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mllemaenad · 5 months ago

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Can you please tell us about Tessa?

Oh - sure, if you like. :)

I don't think you've played any Fallout 76? I'm not really a multiplayer person myself, but I can't resist a look at new lore so ... here I am. In terms of gameplay it's fairly similar to Fallout 4, so it's not too bad. But I tend to find other people running around me while I'm trying to read the terminals very distracting. I appreciate they've as much right to be there as I have but ... oh how I wish this were a single player game.

Anyway: Tessa. Fallout 76's story commences 25 years after the bombs drop meaning that, like in Fallout 4, your character is (or at least can be) a first generation survivor. Tessa was 16 when the Great War began and ended, making her 41 when the vault finally reopened.

Her father was a gifted engineer – he was part the team that worked on the ill-fated Excavator Power Armour project for the Garrahan Mining Company before the war – and her mother was a journalist at the Charleston Herald. She also had a younger brother, Simon. Simon liked baseball and The Silver Shroud, and while he was not as good at school as Tessa herself was, he was a nice kid. Enthusiastic about the things he loved. Kind.

The 2070s were a weird time to be a teenager. Tessa scored well on tests and had read well above her age level for her whole school career ... but tended to go blank when asked what she wanted to do with her life. A lot of kids were like that. There were the food riots and the New Plague, and everyone said that nuclear war was inevitable. Worrying about what you were going to do when you grew up seemed weird when the general consensus seemed to be that you weren't going to. And if you did grow up, what you were probably going to be was drafted.

She was good at maths, and her parents were sort of ... prodding her towards following her father into engineering, mostly because you could sometimes get a deferment to finish your degree, and maybe put off dying on the front lines for a while. But honestly? She was more interested in writing, like her mother, and more and more journalists were being treated as enemies of the state, unless they toed a very fine party line. It certainly wasn't a career that would save you.

When the bombs fell they were "escorted" to Vault 76. For their safety. To be more precise, she and her father were escorted. There was no place in 76 for her mother or her brother, and the soldiers made it quite clear that they would shoot if either of them even attempted to get in the truck. So that was that. She never saw either of them again. No idea if they died in the aftermath of the blasts, or from the Scorched plague, or if they fled Appalachia and are alive and well somewhere else.

Growing up in Vault 76 was a ... troubling experience. All vaults – at least all the control ones, or the ones where the experiment wasn't immediately lethal – must have been odd, because of the tremendous loss of life caused by the Great War. Everyone had to be grieving. But in 76 ... well, her story was far from unusual. Most families ... there was a parent missing, or a sibling or a spouse. There were the people who'd been deemed worthy to live, and the ones who'd been left behind.

Her father died of a heart attack two years after the Great War. There was a lot of that, too, in the first few years. Heart attacks, strokes, conditions that just flared up and took people away. People who just couldn't live with the survivor guilt. A lot of the people who didn't die got really intense about how brilliant they were – probably to justify why they got to live. There's a whole thing about the overseer implementing awards ceremonies to keep people in line.

Tessa herself ... mostly felt like she was marking time. She was brought in as a "gifted kid", but she hadn't even finished high school, let alone accomplished anything meaningful in her life. Sometimes she wondered if Simon hadn't been just days away from discovering some incredible talent, and then he would have been there instead of her. For a while she tried running a little Vault 76 newspaper, about the happenings and accomplishments of the residents, but she gave it up after a couple of years. People would shun her for months for picking someone else for a front page article, and it just wasn't worth the misery. She wrote stories and poetry, sometimes.

Other vaults talk about "Reclamation Day", but 76 was a control vault – so this wasn't just bullshit. Everything in the vault was either killing time, or preparing for the day they would reclaim America. Even the people who had kids seemed to look at it as an investment in the future. She didn't. She wasn't the only one. There was a cohort of residents, mostly people who'd been older teenagers when the bombs dropped, who were just ... distant from all the propaganda. They'd spent all their childhoods thinking they were going to die, and and they couldn't just let it go. The overseer did let it go and mostly let them be; apparently the more enthusiastic residents were breeding like rabbits.

And when the door opened ... well, it's been a long time since I've played. I started from the beginning, and there's content here I haven't seen yet. But I'm very familiar with the first main quest, and it involves following the fates of the people who stayed outside. That's weird for Tessa too. It's like reading the end of a book 20 years after you started it. It's not like she knew Sam Blackwell personally, but she did know who he was; she had met Quinn Carter – it's not like they were close, but she was a lady who worked with her mom. And getting the inside details of how the mining competition really ended? Oh, that was infuriating.

In her heart of hearts, she wishes she'd been able to stay outside. Oh, she knows the plague would have likely got her, or if not that the Christmas Flood, but it feels like these people really lived, while she hid from the world and from her neighbour who was mad that she didn't want to do another story on his fungus experiment.

But on the plus side – well, she's out now. And the world has ended twice. So maybe it's time to start living.

#fallout #fallout 76

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usmsgutterson · 2 years ago

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happy fall!

you’re laying waste to halloween

can i request a nikolai x reader enemies to lovers fic, please? she/her pronouns for the reader :D

maybe one where the reader is a kaelish princess whose family is searching for suitors for her, and nikolai just so happens to be a potential suitor. similar vibes to when they held a ball in king of scars to find nikolai a wife, but its for a kaelish princess! :D

i think it'd be cool if the reader befriended zoya, who tries to get the reader and nikolai to get along. i love the dynamic where one of them's a tease (nikolai) and the other (reader) pretends to hate it, but secretly gets butterflies every time. eventually, they begin tolerating eachother and end up confessing to another. (cue zoya emerging from the corner screaming "i knew it!")

i don't mind how long you make the fic, but i do prefer long ones :]

have a great day!

-velvetarcane

The Ravkan Gardens- Nikolai Lantsov

Okay, hi!! I'm sorry that this took me ages to write out, but I hope you enjoy it as it is! Also, forgive me if the enemies to lovers isn't my best work, it's the first time I've written out the enemies to lovers trope in the context of a fic that was a large one-parter rather than a slowburn multi-parter.

I did do it a bit differently to how you'd requested (the only difference being that, instead of a ball, Nikolai sends out an invite for the reader to stay for two weeks as a sort of like, compatibility test thing? I came up with the concept when I was tired so forgive me if it doesn't make much sense) and I did it in second person because that’s just how my brain defaults to writing requests a lot of the time, but if you want me to rewrite and put it in third, please don’t be afraid to reach out and let me know!

Anyway, thank you so much for sending this in, and though this isn't my longest fic on this account, it's certainly up there with the longest for Nikolai (it caps at 4.3k words) and I really do hope you enjoy!

Fic type- fluff

Warnings- mentions of alcohol (wine and champagne, specifically)

DAY 4/14

Nikolai Lantsov was tall, incredibly handsome, and, in general, a man excellent in the art of charming others, but for some reason, as you took every meal with him, interacted with him more than thrice daily, and generally tried to find something about him that you could’ve liked, it seemed you were almost resistant to those charms.

It wasn’t anything particular about him that you hated—or, anything you could place a finger on—and it seemed that you just weren’t the kind of person who could much like the kind of person he was. He was a charmer, someone who knew exactly what to say all the time, and as much as you wanted to like that, you couldn’t find it in yourself to manage it.

“You’re here for ten more days, Y/N. May as well try to make them a bit more worthwhile,” Zoya said as the two of you walked through the corridors of the Little Palace, heading for the gardens.

You’d been in Ravka of your own volitions, staying there to see if there was any chance yourself and Nikolai could ever be compatible. It felt like something out of some cheesy, royal era romance novel, but if it were truly a romance, wouldn’t the circumstances be better? Wouldn’t yourself and Nikolai be interacting because you enjoyed one anothers company, not because there was the underlying truth that you were both in need of a spouse?

Ravka needed a queen, and you needed an escape from the Wandering Isle, from the place that you hesitantly called home. It seemed like good enough reason to stay in Ravka for two weeks, but four days into your stay, you were regretting having accepted the—largely random—invite at all.

“I’m thinking about going home early,” you said. “Nikolai clearly can’t stand me, and I don’t want to exist wherein my presence is not welcome.”

“The idea to invite you here was his, not mine,” Zoya said as you walked. “Rumors of the replacement of the heir in the Wandering Isle have become rather rampant lately. He figured you could use a break from constantly being told you needed to find someone willing to propose, so he invited you here under the guise of an attempt at courtship.”

“The future king of Ravka invited me to his palace with the intent of giving me a kind of vacation?” You asked, momentarily rethinking all of your prior assumptions, the ones you’d gathered over the days you’d stayed at the Little Palace. “I feel the need to thank him now, I must admit.”

“He also looked at a photograph taken of you during this past summer,” Zoya said. “I presented it to him when trying to find a way to set him up with someone. I think you’re about the only woman he’s ever called beautiful without trying to be a charmer for one reason or the next. Give him a chance, Y/N. You might come to not regret it.”

“I’m here for another ten days,” you said as finally, the gardens came into view. “I’ll do my best, Nazyalensky. For you, if for nobody else.”

Zoya grinned. “If you hate him by this time next week, we’ll drink to it,” she said. “The kitchens have delightful wine.”

“Thank you,” you said with a grateful smile. Genya approached, whisking Zoya away and leaving you to observe the gardens alone.

You stood, idle as you took note of the flowers that were blooming, the apple trees with leaves that rustled in the wind. The view of the gardens was one you would’ve been content to stare at forever, the view itself likely being the only reason you would allow yourself to stay as long as you’d been invited to.

“The gardens are beautiful in their aestheticism,” came the voice of the blonde you’d come to dislike. “If you’ve got a talent for art, I have no doubt that this view on a canvas will go for at least ten or twenty thousand. I’ve seen the versions of it less grounded in realism sell for more than that.”

“And you think a piece depicting exactly what it is meant to look like will, perhaps, go for less?”

“I do,” Nikolai said. “Though, to be fair, I’ve barely known you long enough to form an emotion other than dislike and mild hatred, so I don’t know. I don’t even know if you’re talented in the realms of art.”

“I am not a painter, no,” you said. “You’re right in that.”

“I think you don’t want to be here,” Nikolai continued. “That you’re here because you need a husband just as much as I need a wife, and that if I propose, no matter how much you hate me, you’ll say yes for the good of the Ravkan people.”

“Ah, look at that! You’re correct again,” you said. “I would accept a proposal from you, Lantsov. I would do so to get out of the dreadful place that I call home, if for no other reason.”

“Have you seen the libraries?” Nikolai asked. “I’ve noticed you love to read.”

“Trying to be civil?”

“I can only realize what kind of person you are if civility is something which I decide to give a shot,” Nikolai said. “Getting to know you is my end goal, Ms. L/N. If I jump straight onto the wagon of hatred, we both end up stranded, and that is the last thing that my kingdom needs.”

“I make no guarantees that civility is something at which I will excel.”

“As I look at you now, there are a thousand different insults that come to mind,” Nikolai said. “However, I will not say a word of them. No more insults or jabs. Not from me.”

You said nothing, did nothing, just turned your gaze back to the garden, trying to look for every single one of the details you hadn’t noticed in your mere glimpse. Nikolai stayed with you, standing a few feet off to your right, the two of you watching the garden in silence.

Later, you found yourself in the library, sat in a far off corner with just enough light to allow you to read without difficulty. You were reading a book of sonnets recommended to you by Tolya. The book was called ‘To Love In Spring’ and every single poem was written in old Ravkan.

“Making yourself comfortable?” Nikolai asked as he walked down a row of bookshelves, finding you sitting and reading at the end of them. “You do look a fair bit like you’re in your element here, Y/N.”

“And you look quite so like you’re entirely out of yours,” you said, the quip falling from your lips before you could’ve thought about it. In response, you got a laugh.

“Oh, you wound me,” he said. “Your words cut deep, darling.”

“That’s entirely my goal, Lantsov,” you said, successfully ignoring the butterflies that came to light in your stomach with the use of the nickname.

“Well, it’s not quite working,” Nikolai said with a grin. “I find myself too enamoured by your gorgeousness to be too hurt by the words you use as weaponry.”

“You and your silly little compliments,” you said, once again unable to think before the words had fallen from your lips. “I don’t need, nor do I want, your flattery. I just would like to spend the days I have here as usefully as possible.”

“Is getting to know me not useful to you?”

“To be honest, I don’t think it is.”

“Again, Y/N, you wound me,” but he was smirking as he spoke, running a hand through blonde hair. “How about this: any time in which you decide you hate me less, come seek me out. We’ll learn about each other, see if the hatred that exists now is really as necessary as we clearly think it to be.”

You paused for a moment, thinking about the proposition. Getting to know Nikolai, see beyond his blonde hair and his charm and the fact that he normally seemed quite capable of saying the right thing at the right time, it might not have been something you particularly expected to happen often. It was something you expected to occur rarely, for in the four days you’d been there, you hadn’t hated him any more or any less than you had when you’d arrived and gotten a good look at him, a sense of who he was.

“All right, then,” you said. “You won’t be seeing much of me outside of the meals we’ll take together, though.”

“I’m going into this expecting not to see you outside of those times at all,” Nikolai said. He turned on his feet. “Enjoy your book, darling. I’m not much for poetry, but right now, I could be possibly be convinced to read a few pages.”

“Old Ravkan works, that can be found in the classics section, are quite wonderful.”

“Familiarized yourself with the library already?”

“I’ve only looked where it’s mattered,” you said. Nikolai walked off with that, and for some reason, you couldn’t pull your eyes away.

DAY 7/14

“My favorite color is dark blue,” Nikolai said. It was morning and you were standing in view of the garden, sleeves of the beige sweater you wore rolled up to your elbows, mug of your hot drink of choice tucked into your hands. “Or, the space between dark and light, I should say. Not so light that it is pastel, but not so dark that it’s navy.”

“Space blue?” You asked. “I’ve noticed you wearing a muted version of that color a lot. It suits you, Nik.”

“We’re using nicknames now?”

And, with the way that he points it out and you realize you’ve used a nickname for him, you pause.

“No,” you said after a moment. “It was a one time thing.”

“That’s disappointing, then. I usually hate nicknames.”

“Space blue is your favorite color?” You asked, desperate for a change in the subject and for anything to take your mind off of the embarrassment of having called the man who you’d convinced yourself you weren’t falling for a nickname, let alone one that he said he didn’t hate.

“Yep.”

“My first memory from when I was a kid was running in the palaces,” since it had been made, the deal had changed a bit. Nobody sought anybody out, most of your meetings were by chance. If Nikolai found you, he gave away a small piece of himself, a favorite color, a favorite season. You gave something like a childhood anecdote, a fact about yourself that nobody else knew, and vice versa.

You laughed as you recalled it. “Those palaces, the endless corridors, the vast windows, they used to be my favorite thing growing up. I wanted to learn every room, every place where I could hide when I didn’t want to be found. At twenty-three, I have learned every place in the palaces like the back of my hand, and most days all I want to do is escape them.”

“So why haven’t you?”

“I have yet to find good enough reason to go,” you said. “I’ve had my life threatened when I explained that I wanted to abdicate.”

“So do it,” Nikolai said. “Write a letter of abdication, and stay in Ravka.”

The words as he spoke them almost made you laugh. “Where would I stay, Nik?” There it was again. The stupid nickname that you’d claimed to be a one time thing the first time—though it was such, really.—but, if Nikolai was listening, he definitely assumed that it was more.

“As I’ve gotten to know you, darling, you seem less and less terrible by the day,” he said. “The room here, if you do not marry me but end up abdicating, will always be yours.”

“I appreciate your kindness,” you said. “I shall take it into consideration, Nik.”

“That nickname is going to stick around, innit?” You finally turned, met his gaze, as you brought the mug to your lips and sipped from it. “I really can’t say I hate it.”

“If David used it, would you react the same?”

Nikolai laughed as he thought about your question. “Most likely not, no,” he said.

You began to turn, intending to head back up to your room. You were about a third of the way down the first of many halls when finally, you heard Nikolais voice.

“Three days now,” he called. “I’m not so terrible, am I?”

The question, though clearly both question and quip, was enough to make you laugh.

“Perhaps not, Lantsov,” you said. “We have one more week together. Ask me then.”

“My mother used to say I was infected by wanderlust,” you said with a slight smile as Zoya tipped a book off the shelves in the library. “I always wanted to leave, to go somewhere. I never really got much of a chance.”

“Did she ever realize you don’t want to wander, you just simply want to leave?” You leaned against the shelf, opening the book you’d grabbed whilst glimpsing the classics section.

“I imagine she’ll figure it out when I go back with all of my exciting tales to tell.”

“Oh, yeah,” Zoya said, nodding with her agreement. “All of the details of the garden, at which you looked longingly for hours will be so much fun to regale, Y/N.”

“The books I’ve read will also be mentioned, and the food, and the company,” you said pointedly. “The hours spent looking at the garden will mostly be left out of it.”

Zoya laughed, eyes scanning the cover of the book she’d grabbed before she put it back disinterestedly.

“Wise choice,” she said. “You’ve got one more week here. Are you excited to go back?”

“I’m heading into the city for a week after I leave here,” you said. “I need to think about things, and I need to do it without the prying eyes of the observers, staring at me whilst they try to dissect my every thought. Nobody has ever really seen my face, either, so I’ll go without being recognized while I’m there.”

Zoya looked at you, quirking a brow. “My my, has Nikolai given you something to ponder?”

You grinned, feeling almost a little defeated. “He’s different,” you said. “Different than I thought he would be, is all.”

“You’ve given up on hating him?”

“I still hate him, just less than I did three days ago,” you said. “He’s sensible. Goodwilled, strong. He seems like he cares about the people here, and I just find it a tad bit admirable, is all.”

“So, I was right, is what I’m hearing?”

“Not yet, Nazyalensky,” you said. “I’m learning what about him there is to like, not falling head over heels.” At that point, though, you could’ve guessed that you’d be romantically inclined toward Nikolai by the end of your stay.

“You will,” Zoya said with a teasing sort of grin as she pulled another book from the shelf. “In five days, at least, I’ll be telling you that I told you so.”

You laughed again as she read the cover, deciding to keep that book on her person.

“Thank you for staying,” Zoya said after a long moment of silence has passed. “You could’ve left when you decided you hated him, but you didn’t. Thank you for that, seriously.”

“Your company has made it the most worthwhile so far,” and the views, of course. The food, the excellent wine, the books that lined the shelves of the library and the scent of the roses in the garden. All of it made for a worthwhile stay, but Zoya was what made staying seem like the most logical decision. The truth may have been that you hardly knew her, but even as such, Zoya had become a fast friend, someone you would’ve hated losing. “Seriously. Thank you.”

“I’m glad I could assist in keeping you around,” Zoya said as she opened the book, reading the dedication and skipping the table of contents to get to the first chapter. “I do hope that you’ll find it in yourself not to hate him.”

“I’m learning what about him there is to like. If I do go without the intent of coming back, I promise to write.”

“And I promise to respond,” Zoya said, the two of you lapsing into a comfortable silence thereafter.

DAY 10/14

“I’ve never quite been able to pick a favorite time of day,” you said as you approached. Nikolai was facing a window in a common room within the depths of the Little Palace, hands leaning against the ledge as he looked out on the view from the second floor. You could’ve laughed as you realized that he was brooding, but you didn’t.

“Some days, I wake up early enough to see both sunrise and sunset. Other times, I particularly love the afternoon, when the sun is right overhead. I tend to gravitate towards the evenings, lately. In the past six days, I’ve found myself most at peace after the sun has set, when I can escape the Little Palace for a bit. Did you know that, when you escape the cities, the crowded streetways and the houses that’re lit up like trees at Christmas, you can actually see the stars? On nights where you’re lucky enough, you get glimpses of the other planets that exist within our solar system.”

“That’s the reason I haven’t been able to find you past eleven?” Nikolai asked.

“I go out with Tolya, Tamar, Nadia, Zoya, Genya and David. Every other day. You should come, we’re going tonight.”

“My favorite time of the day is the morning,” Nikolai said. “Everything feels so spry then. I feel ready to get on with my day. Nights always leave me feeling a little empty. I’ve never much been good at handling too much quiet.” You walked up to him, standing to his right. Carefully, you moved an arm so that it was within the same space as one of his. If Nikolai moved his hand just a bit to the left, he would be able to take yours if it was something he so pleased to do.

“Nights won’t feel so lonely if you spend them with the right people, my lovely enemy,” you said. He didn’t look at you, but when you rested your head against his shoulder, he did not move away.

He rested his cheek against the top of your head, neither of you saying a word as he did.

“Do you still hate me?” Nikolai asked.

“A lot less than I used to,” you said. “Let me guess, when you look at me, your heart and mind fill with nothing other than sheer resentment?”

He took your hand in his as he laughed, eyes still on the view of the gardens, apple trees rustling with the wind.

“Not exactly,” he said.

The two of you stood, in relative silence, watching the garden together, much like things had been almost a week before, except the hatred you felt for one another was largely gone, having been replaced by the starts of romance.

Nikolai found you a fair bit later, as the sun was setting and you were standing in the middle of the garden, book in hand. You were completely enthralled in it, and even though speaking was his first instinct—the act of revealing a small part to himself, one of many things that made him who he was—having almost become reflexive after nearly a week, he stopped himself. He merely leaned against the door, content to just watch.

As he did, he found that he was completely enamoured, just as he’d been when Zoya had dropped your photo onto his desk. You were naturally beautiful, a woman who everyone was jealous of. How Nikolai had hated you upon your meet ten days before was something that almost became a bit of a mystery to him as he looked at you, watched you run a hand through your hair as the breeze picked up, seeming to move around you in an almost perfect arc of wind.

“I can feel you staring at me, Lantsov,” you said. Nikolai almost flinched, having been caught off guard, but managed to maintain most of his composure. “Are you ever going to allow words to leave your lips?”

“You leave me speechless,” Nikolai said, turning on the charm before he can even think to do otherwise. “Though, with how beautiful you are, how any man who looks at you isn’t also rendered speechless is an absolute mystery to me.”

“I do not look beautiful,” you said. “Not right now, anyway.” You were wearing a dark maroon shirt with a black skirt, hair styled as it normally was, and between the fact that there wasn’t a day Nikolai had seen you looking anything less than gorgeous, and the fact that he’d let you into his heart, he realized he could’ve been happy to die right there, as he was.

“You do,” he said. “You look absolutely incredible.”

You grinned, and yeah. Nikolai was done for. He absolutely could’ve died happy in that moment.

He stepped forward as you closed the book, objecting to merely hold it at your side.

Eventually, you were standing close, your hand against the side of his face, one of his hands on your waist, the other resting at the bottom of your cheek and on your neck.

“Your company is not nearly as terrible as I presumed it would remain ten days ago.”

He gave you a grin, asked if he could kiss you, and when you said yes, he did.

As he felt your lips against his, he felt, for the first time in a while, the monster as it grew quiet, seemed to step away, and Nikolai felt well and truly happy.

When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against his.

Neither of you had perfect lives, just moments wherein they felt perfect, but it was something neither of you minded.

DAY 12/14

“I knew it!” Zoya shouted as Nikolai pulled away from you, your hands still remaining entwined as the moment you were sharing was interrupted. You were in a common room, having thought yourselves mostly alone, the conversation you’d been having only having been interrupted by a kiss for a split second, though it was one Zoya, Genya, and Tamar had happened to walk in on. “I fucking knew it!”

The common room you were standing in was the one you’d been in in the days before, the one on the second floor with the view of the gardens, walls painted the colors of the royal emblem, light flowing through the window naturally.

“Well, Tolya officially owes me quite the pretty penny,” Tamar said. “Congrats, you two. When did it happen?”

“It’s happened gradually over the past week,” Nikolai said.

“Your first kiss happened five days ago, and you didn’t tell me?” Zoya asked. You shook your head.

“It happened two days ago,” you said. “I guess it slipped my mind.” You shrugged, giving Nikolais hand a squeeze. He squeezed your hand in return as you adjusted, hand slipping from yours a moment later, in favor of an arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“Slipped your mind?” Genya asked. “You both realize this means we have a wedding to plan?”

“Not for another quarter,” Nikolai said. “Saints, Genya. You’re getting too far ahead. I haven’t even thought of proposing yet, and if I do, it won’t be until December. A proposal always tends to go over better during the Christmas season.”

“Or you could propose at the end of this month and we could do a December wedding,” Zoya suggested. “It’s the beginning of October. A month of courtship, a proposal, and then you get another two months of courtship before the wedding.”

“Don’t get too far ahead of yourselves,” you cautioned. “We’re taking it slow.”

“A June wedding could be lovely,” Tamar said. “The weather is warm, lots of guests could come, and a coronation to have Y/N in the palaces as queen could be a lot easier to do around the spring or the summer, I would assume.”

“I’ll start planning the wedding in December,” Genya said. “Zoya, Y/N, you help me every step of the way. Promise it.” She looped her elbow through Zoyas, running a hand through vibrant red hair as she did.

Your gaze met Zoyas, and the both of you burst into laughter as Nikolai pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“Deal,” you said.

“Promise,” said Zoya.

“Tonight, with dinner, we’ll have champagne,” Tamar said. “In celebration of the happy couple, of course.”

You wrapped an arm around Nikolais waste, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his jawline as you did.

“In celebration,” you said, Nikolai nodding his agreement.

It was odd, really. Twelve days before, you’d hardly expected to have anything to celebrate, and yet there you were, with a relationship and potentially a marriage.

AUGUST

You grinned as you caught sight once more of the ring on your finger. It was something you hadn’t gotten used to, even though it’d been two months since the wedding, since your coronation.

“You look wonderful, as always,” Nikolai said as he entered the room you shared. You were in bed, book in your lap, just as it’d been since that afternoon. It’d been a book given to you at the recommendation of Tamar, a fantasy novel that was an absolute page turner. “I’m relieved, personally, that we finally have a chance for a moment away.”

“A trip to Novyi Zem sounds wonderful about now,” you said as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m thrilled about it, really. Being a queen is a lot more than I expected.”

“Well, for the next two weeks, queenly duties be damned,” he said, acknowledging the trip you’d leave for early the following morning. “I love you, my dearest wife.”

“And I you, dearest husband,” Nikolai joined you in bed as you dimmed the reading light you’d been using, eventually putting the book down and falling asleep next to him, just as you’d done since before your wedding, with every bone in your body overflowing with content.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone

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twillightteaparty · 3 years ago

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Can I request headcanons for the Seduce Me boys falling for a chef who owns a popular soul food restaurant?

Seduce Me Boys Falling For a Chef Who Owns a Popular Restaurant!

James

I think he would be pleasantly surprised, like oh you run the popular restaurant everyone has been talking about? that's so cool! but also if you guys ever cook together I can only imagine how amazing the food is- to die for.

At Home dinner dates! candlelit dinner for two, would be the most romantic and enjoyable time ever. great food, great company, what more could you really ask for?

I honestly have to say energy of like the friend groups power couple but also no one really knows when you guys started dating because at some point just happened.

I don't know what else to say I can see it being a very slow burn, very loving, dynamic, and like once again when did you guys go from point a to point b nobody really knows but like it's nice.

Erik

I don't think he realizes he's falling in love, he thinks he just really loves the food. but he eventually realizes that he is absolutely smitten and oh god is he smitten. the charmer has become c h a r m e d.

Most certainly now understands the saying of the fastest way to someone's heart is through their stomach now. is also going to be spending way too much time trying to give them gifts that they'll love because he wants them to feel cherished

would become your house spouse for your food, please.

I also don't have a lot to say, honestly just wants to give you as much happiness as you bring him and will be more than happy to taste test your food.

Sam

would do anything to have some of your food. I mean, anything. the 'friend' that always askes you to make food no matter the situation just like. please <3

Will joke about you one day being a famous chef of like a 5-star restaurant. just wants you to succeed and doesn't realize this is all a very genuine want coming from a very soft spot in his heart.

give him 10-15 business days to figure out his feelings. after that he'll probably try to be as straightforward as possible about his feelings but like, we all know how terrible he is at expressing those feelings in words.

que meme / joke / whatever of 'finally some good fucking food'

Matthew

okay, all I can think of is the Coffeeshop AU vibes even though that's not remotely close to a restaurant but like Coffeeshop AU vibes.

I can imagine he doesn't even realize he caught feels for a little bit and then he's like thinking about it and he's like oh I caught feels and I caught them so dang hard.

will bring you flowers and suggests to go out and celebrate every time something cool happens at the restaurant like it won an award or something.

supportive friend? more like supportive boyfriend! hold his hand right now coward.

Damien

more coffee shop AU vibes, but like it's he's very supportive and like often offer really good advice and suggestions? I think this is a gradual very smooth fall into being completely and utterly s m i t t e n

probably waits a little bit to make sure he is sure of his feelings and that its a good idea and all that jazz. he then will probably very honest with his feelings. super sincere about it.

will help you make food whenever he's allowed or you want. he's just happy to find someone who is passionate about what they do and like is enjoying themselves.

s o f t , all of the soft moments and talks always happen over dinner with you two

---

not gonna lie, had to look up what soul food was. Due to my lack of familiarity with it, I hope that it's okay that I was rather general with it and was just like a popular restaurant instead. I don't want to offend anyone with my ignorance, so my apologies.

me taking forever to go through asks and respond, more likely than I would have thought. I've been a little bit busy recently so it may take a bit longer for me to finish answering things so my apologies Everyone

Signed, Admin Tea

#seduce me #seduce me otome #seduce me james #seduce me matthew #seduce me damien #seduce me sam #seduce me erik #seduce me the otome x reader #seduce me the otome #seduce me x reader #seduce me headcanons #asks open

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themisanthropiclycanthrope · 7 years ago

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hi! merlahad prompt: during the lancelot trials Eggsy and Roxy bet on whether Harry is in a relationship. Eggsy says he's single but Roxy is convinced he has a wife. so they try to find out which one of them is right, but since harry is a private person and merlin for some reason doesn't indulge their need for gossip they don't get an answer. until one day Eggsy comes to harry's for a spontaneous visit and finds harry&merlin being horribly domestic and welp now they both lost their bet.

Hi! Thanks for the prompt! This is mostly Eggsy failing to out-spy the spies, but hopefully there’s enough Merlahad feels at the end to compensate (:

Continue beneath the cut, or read on AO3.

“You what? Harry ain’t married!”

Roxy remained unfazed by Eggsy’s retort,spluttered as it was through a snort of laughter. “I’m sure he is,” sheinsisted. “There’s absolutely no way a man like him could possibly be single.”

“But he’s a spy! I’m pretty sure they haveregulations about that kinda thing.”

“They do, but there are always exceptions.And if ever there was a Kingsman unafraid to bend the rules, don’t you think it’sGalahad?”

Eggsy couldn’t argue with that, but neithercould he quite picture Harry with a wife. Maybe it was because he didn’t thinkHarry would be so unkind as to bugger off on missions with no idea if he’d everreturn home, the poor woman never knowing if she would see him again. Or maybeit was something more tangible.

“But he don’t wear a ring!” He grinned intriumph, certain he had hit upon incontrovertible proof.

Roxy rolled her eyes heavenward, unconvinced.“Of course not, he’s a spy.”

His own argument turned back on him, Eggsyscowled in the face of her logic. She was right; Harry would hardly riskproviding enemies with details of his private life, gifting them potentialtargets.

“And why else would he have been so eagerto hurry home tonight?” Roxy continued, stacking up her evidence with glee. “He’srarely on time for anything, so it must be important. Maybe today’s theiranniversary, or her birthday…”

“Or maybe he just wanted to catch the XFactor results,” Eggsy countered. Roxy’s withering look told him exactlywhat she thought of that suggestion. “Yeah, okay, but you still ain’t gonnaconvince me he’s married.”

“How much?”

“How much what?”

“How much do you want to bet you’reright?”

Eggsy wasn’t exactly flush, but hecouldn’t pass up on a wager with a mate, which Roxy was fast becoming. “Twentyquid says he’s single.”

“You’re on.”

Roxy offered her hand and they shook,sealing the deal.

Proving he was right turned out to be moredifficult than Eggsy had assumed it would be. Thankfully, that meant neitherwas he being proven wrong, which was something at least, and his moneyremained safe. For now.

A naturally private man with years of trainingand successful service as a secret agent, Harry was an infuriatingly hard nutto crack.

“So, how do you spend your downtime then?”Eggsy enquired of him during one of the rare times the candidates were granteda breather.

“How do you mean?”

“I dunno. I mean, you must get the odd daywhen you ain’t off saving the world. Do you watch the footy? Play Xbox? Chillwith your mates?”

“Even if I knew what those things were, I’mquite certain the answer would still be no.”

Eggsy was sure Harry was beingdeliberately obtuse, but every attempt to switch tactics was met with furtherevasion.

After receiving a text from his mum—therewas news of a free sim deal and she’d let him know if she got a new number andhow was he getting on?—Eggsy took one final punt.

“Must be hard not being able to sharestuff with your loved ones.”

“Is that something you think you’ll have aproblem with?”

“Nah, bruv. You know I can keep me mouthshut. But it must suck not being able to talk about it when you’ve had a shitday.”

“We all find ways to deal with the shit,as well as celebrate our triumphs.”

“Yeah? What do you do then?”

Harry smiled a small, private smile. “Itusually involves a nice martini.”

The subtle approach was getting Eggsyprecisely nowhere. Harry was accustomed to withstanding more refinedinterrogation than Eggsy’s clumsy attempts at prying into his private life.Short of coming right out and just asking him, Eggsy was soon out of ideas.

Except one.

“You’ve known Harry a long time, right?”

“I have.”

“What’s he like when he’s not being AgentGalahad? Is he always that posh?” Merlin was just staring at him, faceunreadable, so Eggsy forged on, aiming for casual. “I’ll bet he’s properromantic. Does he have a girlfriend?”

“Why the sudden interest?” Merlin quirkedan eyebrow. “You don’t have designs on Galahad, do you, Eggsy?”

“What?! Fuck no! I mean, he’s pretty fitfor his age and that, I suppose, but I ain’t…” Eggsy trailed off when he sawminute smile twitching at the corner of Merlin’s mouth. “Bastard. I was justwondering.”

“Perhaps you should apply your mind to themore pertinent matter of taking down those targets.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eggsy turned his attentionback to the range and fired his remaining shots. Thanks to his Marine training,this was something he was actually decent at, so it didn’t much matter that hismind continued to wander.

Merlin had been a crap choice of subjectfor information gathering. Their stoic quartermaster was clearly not so easilydrawn into gossip.

But before Eggsy could come up with PlanC, everything went tits up.

When Harry was lying unconscious in theinfirmary bed, he received notably few visitors. The other agents popped in,and Arthur, of course, but the only person who spent more time at his bedsidethan Eggsy was Merlin.

Roxy argued that they probably didn’tallow non-Kingsman personnel on site, but Eggsy was convinced they would makean exception for a spouse whose husband was in a critical condition.

When he woke up, at least Harry had Merlinthere to look after him.

“Guess where I’ve been?”

Roxy glanced up at Eggsy and waited to beenlightened.

“Harry’s house.”

“Oh!” Now she looked properlyinterested. “And?”

“No sign of a wife, I’m afraid.” Eggsytried not to look too smug.

Roxy frowned, thinking over this newinformation. “That makes sense, if you think about it. We were only grantedtwenty-four hours, so she must have offered to go out and give you and Harrysome time alone.”

“Ah, but you didn’t see his house. It’s atotal bachelor pad, no sign of a woman’s touch anywhere.�� Harry’s decor hadperhaps been a little eccentric, but there had been a notable lack of the kindof things Eggsy guessed women usually liked to have around the home. He wasonly basing this conclusion on his own mum, really, and he wasn’t so shallow asto think all women were the same, but he thought his general theory held.

“So you checked the bedroom? The bathroomcabinets?”

Eggsy deflated. Roxy had a point. MaybeHarry’s hypothetical wife shared his taste in the mildly bizarre, but she wouldcertainly have her own set of toiletries and stuff. A grin split Roxy’s face,proclaiming her small victory.

“We was a bit busy,” Eggsy said,defensive. Learning how to make the perfect martini had taken precedence oversnooping through Harry’s underwear drawer, although he was now cursing themissed opportunity.

He soon set about rectifying hisoversight.

Harry had said he was welcome to visit,but turning up unannounced on his doorstep might be a bit rude. Thankfully,Harry didn’t seem pissed to see him, and Eggsy was invited in.

“We’ve already had dinner, I’m afraid, butyou’re welcome to join us for a drink.”

Eggsy perked up at the we, hisheart sinking a little at the confirmation that Roxy had been correct allalong. Nonetheless, his curiosity had been piqued, and he followed Harrythrough to the living room only to pause in the doorway, baffled.

“Merlin!”

Kingsman’s tech wizard looked up from thetablet perched on his knee, glanced at Harry over Eggsy’s shoulder, thenreturned his attention to Eggsy.

“Good evening, Eggsy.”

It was obvious he was confused by Eggsy’sunexpected appearance, but Harry took control, ushering Eggsy to an armchairand fetching another glass to prepare him a drink. He also took the opportunityto refresh his own and Merlin’s before taking a seat beside Merlin on the sofa.

Merlin tapped a few final times on thetablet, then set it aside on the small table beside him, giving his shrewdattention to their guest. With dawning realisation, Eggsy guessed he must haveinterrupted some kind of casual work meeting.

If that was the case, Harry didn’t seem tomind, smiling at Eggsy as he sipped his martini. “To what do we owe thepleasure?”

“I just wanted to say thanks.” Eggsy waswinging it, but went with his heart. “For believing in me, giving me thisopportunity. Not many people have ever done that for me, y’know.”

“I am very pleased my gut instinct provedcorrect, and I have every faith you’ll be equally successful in your next test.Don’t you think, Merlin?”

“He has performed admirably so far, aye,but I’m afraid I must remain impartial.”

“Of course.” But Harry gave Eggsy a lookthat said not to take any notice.

They continued to chat, Eggsy relaxing inthe company and happy not to have seen any sign of the elusive wife. About halfan hour later the conversation waned and Harry yawned with a hand to his mouthand a word of apology.

He was probably still recovering from thecoma, and Eggsy felt a bit of a dick for imposing on his rest. He was about tomake his excuses and leave when Harry leaned across Merlin to place his emptyglass on the end table. Rather than straightening up, he remained pressedagainst Merlin’s side, settling comfortably as if he fully intended to staythere. After a moment, his head dropped to Merlin’s shoulder, his eyes droopingshut.

Merlin froze, awkward, his gaze flickingfrom Eggsy to the man lounging against him. He gave Harry a gentle nudge.

“Perhaps it’s time you took yourself offto bed,” he suggested, tone carefully neutral.

Harry gave a sleepy smile and raised ahand, trailing his fingers lazily down Merlin’s chest, suggestive heat in hisvoice when he spoke. “Only if you’ll join me, darling.”

Merlin grasped Harry’s hand, halting itscaress. “Harry.” The mild warning in his tone was enough to rouse Harry, whoimmediately sat up, aware and contrite.

“Shit, I’m sorry. That was terriblyinappropriate of me.”

The silence that followed was filled for amoment with embarrassed uncertainty, until Eggsy grinned at the pair of them,everything finally slotting into place. It was incredible that neither he norRoxy had figured it out sooner, it just seemed so…obvious. So right.

His reaction must have been enough toreassure Merlin, for he hooked an arm around Harry’s shoulders and hauled himback in, the tension in his rigid posture visibly ebbing. “Come here, you daftbastard.” There was such fond affection in his voice, in the way he looked atthe man curled up against his side, that Eggsy wondered how he had ever thoughtMerlin so terrifying. No doubt he’d be reminded soon enough, but at that momenthe was granted the honour of sharing in their happiness.

It did, however, quickly become a bit toosappy, and Eggsy decided he had overstayed his welcome.

“I think it’s time I was getting back. I’llsee meself out.”

There was a mumble from the sofa as Harryand Merlin bade him good night, quite happy to remain where they were.

As he left, Eggsy took care of one finalpiece of business, snapping a quick photo with his phone and sending it to Roxywith an accompanying message.

Call it a draw?

#kingsman #fiction #merlahad #harry hart #merlin #prompt fic #anonymous #i'm not as fond of this one as the others #i think because it has more dialogue than i usually write #he says when the next thing he's writing is nothing BUT dialogue atm #but hopefully it's not too awful #eggsy unwin #roxy morton #and domestic merlahad feels

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creightonbeatrice1994 · 4 years ago

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