#I’M LOVELESS BUT I COULDN’T THINK OF A BETTER WORD YOU GET IT

[lem-argentum]

what if you were a hater and i was a lover and we were DATING………..??

[agentwhalesong]

One Step At A Time

Words: 1,484

Rating: not sure; contains adult topics, so Mature?

ao3 link

(Tagging @today-in-fic)

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She’d only given in because she was lonely.

Their relationship was weird these days; conversation was never an option. It was just sex, rough sex, against the wall, onto office tables or bent over the back of his couch. Their couch. No, his couch. Her mind used to discern things better when there was only anger in the air, when he wouldn’t accept a single touch of her hand on his. She couldn’t even tell when that anger turned into some sort of addictive lust or who started it all, but now here they were, in a limbo of loveless, hot sex whenever they saw each other.

Was it really loveless though?

His arms around her stomach as he kept on spooning her didn’t indicate so.

Maybe he just forgot they shouldn’t be like this, that two months ago she had built a wall between them by saying ‘no more’ as she rolled her skirt back down her legs and hid her tears.

So yes, she’d only given in this time because she was lonely, not because they had never fallen out of love with each other, even in their darkest days.

She wasn’t supposed to have stayed though. This road was headed to mess town and she wasn’t ready for mess yet. What she didn’t realize — at least not completely — was that she’d long arrived in mess town and was almost a permanent citizen.

Her hand was still over his, stroking it absentmindedly as thoughts ran through her mind at warping speed. Old habits die hard; some old habits never truly die.

Slowly, she unwrapped herself from his arms, not sure if he had woken or not. It didn’t matter anyway.

She picked up her clothes and walked to the bathroom they had once shared, but that she was seeing for the first time in more than a year. As she closed the door behind her, her heart stopped. Her old toothbrush, the one she had forgotten to take when she moved out, was right there in the toothbrush holder, as if untouched.

What was she supposed to think of it? He couldn’t possibly not have seen it. It was next to his, next to the tube of toothpaste squeezed right in the middle — something she had never been able to change in him. Maybe that was the problem, she had tried to change him too much.

She sighed. All these emotions didn’t belong here, in her mind, in his house, in their house, in her more-than-one-year-old toothbrush. Why now? Why had she given in?

It had been the first time they had actually talked; it was why she had given in. It hadn’t been small talk that always led to sex for some unexplained reason. It had been a simple, but meaningful conversation about life and losing time and getting old that had dissolved all of her determination and made her take his hand and follow him upstairs.

“Scully, are you okay in there?” came his muffled voice from outside the bathroom.

It was only then that she realized she had been staring at their toothbrushes for many more minutes than she should have.

She opened her mouth to say ‘yes, I’m fine’, but what got out was completely different.

“Why is my toothbrush still here?”

She heard him sigh, but he didn’t speak.

He didn’t want to answer, that was fine. Why should he? Why had she asked that stupid question anyway? Maybe it wasn’t even her toothbrush, but somebody else’s. Truth was that she didn’t know if there was somebody else. She never thought to ask.

“Can I come in?” he finally asked.

Her reply came in a whisper, but he heard her.

Although she didn’t turn around when he entered, their eyes locked through the mirror.

“I wasn’t expecting you would see it,” he said quietly. “I left it there as a reminder.”

“A reminder?”

“That you left. At the time I just needed to feed my anger and that was the only thing you didn’t take with you. I used to look at it and curse myself, sometimes curse you.”

She averted her gaze to her own reflection, saw her own eyes watering as her heart raced and ached. He continued.

“I threw it away once, that time when you came to check on me and we had sex for the first time before… this, whatever this is, started. I was angry that you seemed to regret what we’d just done, so I threw it in the trash can. I picked it up again a couple of hours later, though.”

“Why?” she asked, not hiding her tears anymore and looking at his eyes through the mirror again. “If this is so painful to you, why do you keep on holding on?”

She knew the question wasn’t about him and her toothbrush, but about him and her, about their inability to let each other go for good. He knew it too.

“Because at some point it stopped hurting. It became hope.”

His words hit deep, crushing her facade at once.

“Damn you, Mulder! You need to stop doing this to me!”

Her exclamation, although said in a low voice, made her body react. She lowered her head, supported herself with her hands on the sink, allowed herself to weep.

She felt his hands gently grab her hair from around her neck and turn it into a sort of low ponytail, before letting it fall on her back, away from her tears.

“I’m sorry I made you break your promise of not sleeping with me again. I’ll leave you alone from now on.” He turned around, but she couldn’t let him go.

“Please, don’t.”

He stopped by the door, turned his body only half around, while she turned completely and walked to him.

Her arms went around his waist so quickly that it took him a while to hug her back. But when he did, it felt like nothing else mattered.

She couldn’t say how long they just stood there in that position or when her tears subsided. She just knew that at some point he whispered against her hair, uncomplicated words for a complex relationship.

 “Let’s just go to bed and pretend it’s like old times”.

She let herself be carried and then cuddled, despite her mind shouting that she should just go home. They had sex once more — a first since chaos started to reign — and that made it incredibly difficult to obey the voices in her head.

She ended up staying through the night because, in the end, they weren’t pretending it was like old times. For once, they were in the present, not trying to retrieve what had been lost. They were the Scully and Mulder who didn’t know exactly how to deal with everything, but also the Scully and Mulder who were at least trying — no matter how unconventional their way of trying was.

She woke up before him the following morning, and when he opened his eyes she was already half dressed. His hoarse voice was what made her look over her shoulder and then turn to face him.

“I thought you were going to stay at least for breakfast”

She shook her head slightly.

“That is not who we are anymore, is it?”

He shook his head slightly also, and then closed his eyes. If falling asleep again or just lost in thoughts, she couldn’t tell.

She was already putting on her shoes when he suddenly broke the silence.

“Who are we now?”

She sighed, not sure what to say, and then sat on a spot beside him on the bed.

“I think we are trying to figure that out.”

She wanted to tell him all the feelings that were stirring her insides, that last night had been sweet and sad and something else, maybe a sparkle of forgiveness from both sides. Instead, she just put her hand over his and stroked it a little, wordlessly.

Then she stood up and headed for the door, already expecting the tears that usually came with the silent goodbyes.

“Scully?”

She turned around, somewhat afraid of what he was about to say. But fear turned into tenderness as he spoke.

“You look beautiful.”

She smiled in spite of herself, the first smile while with him in the past year or so. He smiled back, melting a little more of the ice on that wall of hers.

Without another word, she made her way out of the bedroom and then out of the house. She was already in her car when she realized — the tears she was expecting never came.

Maybe she would call him one of these days. Maybe they would talk again. Maybe they would become something similar to what they had once been. For now, she only held on to the smile on his face and his heartwarming words. One step at a time.

[prototypesteve]

Sent.

Just told the last remaining “I’ve known this guy forever” friend that I’m aromantic and asexual. This friend watched me recover from the first fake relationship (late 90s), and watched me go through the second fake relationship¹ (2005-2008). He’s only known me as someone who assumed they’re allosexual and alloromantic, but who was just really, really bad at it.

The send button used to take me about an hour to tap. And I’d often hesitate and delete the message, and wait a few more days. But with each person, it gets a little easier. It used to be terrifying, but now it’s just really scary.

Anyway, all that to say, it gets easier, but I don’t know if it ever gets easy. Don’t feel bad if there are people you just can’t (or won’t) ever tell. This isn’t something you owe them. This is something they earn.

Whether it’s your sexuality, or an invisible disability, or the special way your family formed, or even just your secret carrot cake recipe, you don’t owe anyone anything you feel they haven’t earned the privilege of knowing.

Invitation Only.

Some friends of mine like to replace the idea of coming out with a different way of seeing it: “Inviting in.”

Sometimes, with certain people and to certain audiences, using the term “coming out” can feel like you’ve kept a secret and you’re admitting to it. It has a lot of cultural baggage. It can feel like confessing to something bad. And fuck that.

“Inviting in” changes the dynamic. Now it’s about exclusivity and qualification. It’s members-only clique or an invitation-only club, and there are standards to be met. You must be this emotionally mature to ride.

For something like asexuality and aromanticism I even use the term “clarifying”. I have friends who’ve only even known me as single, or other friends (like the one I just came out to / invited in) who’ve seen me damaged by a failed relationship, then in a really unsuccessful and loveless one for a few years, then apparently happily single for 15 years. So they know something’s different. Maybe gay? Maybe I’m just traumatized? Maybe I think people of our faith aren’t allowed to remarry? They see the stuff. They just don’t know what’s causing the stuff. So I’m mostly just clarifying.

But whatever you do—come out, invite in, clarify—do it when it’s safe, when you’re ready, and only to people who’ve demonstrated they deserve to know you that well. There’s no timetable, no cutoff age, no obligation to your community.

Footnotes:

¹ “fake relationship” is a slightly harsh way to put what happened. This was when I didn’t know what aroace was, so even though I was aroace I had been raised to assume that as someone who felt male, I was were either straight, gay, or bi, and that everyone needed someone. (Extreme allonormativity, amatonormativity and compulsory sexuality.) The most I ever felt was what we would call Platonic Love, but at the time I assumed what I felt was just my broken version of romance. I wanted to be like everyone else (even my gay friends felt love, FFS, what was my excuse?). So I tried. I really, really tried. And I couldn’t. I could be enjoyable, but I couldn’t enjoy, and that hurt the people I was with. It made them feel undesirable even though really it was me who couldn’t desire anyone. And I hate how that happened. I don’t hate why it happened, but I hate that it had to happen because words like aromantic and asexual were hidden away back then. And my way of dealing with how that hurt is to incorrectly call them fake relationships, for now. I hope there’s a better term out there.

[madame-jupiter]

Prince with the Scalpel Chapter One

Izuku, a renowned doctor and surgeon, dies from an unknown heart condition he had. And ends up waking up in his past life the day after he entered a loveless marriage with King Bakugou Katsuki.

A marriage that a bratty prince Izuku forced upon the king after getting rid of so many suitors vying for Katsuki’s attention and the empty throne beside him. Eventually even scaring off Katsuki’s fiancé that Katsuki had actually loved and cherished.

But Izuku is no longer the same person he used to be.

A prince once more, but the heart of a caring doctor with regrets…

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“Umm, P-Prince Izuku?” a maid watches silently as Izuku just casually sits, a book in hand. “A-Aren’t you going to see his majesty on his walk?”

“Hmm?” Izuku looks up, a gentle smile on his face. “Nah, I don’t want to bother him.”

The maid is flabbergasted, looking at Izuku like he’s a foreign entity. Well, Izuku doesn’t really blame her.

Regarding how his personality was before, it would seem like his personality made a 180 in just one day.

But, Izuku wants to right some wrongs in his old life that he didn’t think he could amend. The books he’s reading is the political and martial affairs of the Bakugou Kingdom.

He’s trying to find a way to peacefully divorce Katsuki that won’t lead to a war breaking out. At least, from his kingdom and his doting father.

Just then, he catches a little head peeking into his room. Red eyes looking at him in curiosity. Izuku gently closes his book, smiling at the newcomer.

“Hello, you must be Princess Eri.”

The maid looks behind her just as the Princess comes out of her hiding spot.

She’s a small thing, her little hands fiddling with her dress. “H-Hello Prince C-Consort.” She does a curtsy.

Izuku smiles more, but the maid gently reprimands her. “Princess Eri, it’s not lady like to stutter. You need more tutelage in ways of speech, my lady.”

Eri flinches, fiddling with her hands again. Izuku glances up at the maid, starting to remember what a bitch she actually is underneath her “niceness”. “Leave us.”

The maid looks at him. “B-But your-“

“I said leave us. And have another maid come in with tea and snacks.” He then smirks. “It’s not lady like to stutter.”

The maid’s face flushes a bright red, but she does as she’s told. Once she’s gone, he gently beckons for Eri to come to him. The little princess does so. Setting his books aside, he gets out of his chair and bends down to her level.

“You know, I used to stutter a lot when I was your age,” he says, Eri looking at him with wide eyes.

“R-Really?”

Izuku nods. “Yes. I couldn’t pronounce peoples’ names right either. Some words were harder for me to say back then.”

He scoops the princess up by her armpits, settling her down on the sofa. Izuku sits beside her. “If you need any help or anything else, then you are more than welcome to come join me for tea.”

Eri looks down at her dress, once again fiddling with it. “W-Will that be okay…? If I-I come see you… when I’m lonely…?”

Izuku pats her head. “Of course.”

Eri gives him a wobbly smile just as two maids comes in with a tea set and some snacks. If they are surprised to see the young princess and prince consort together, they don’t say anything.

Izuku glances at poor Eri. She is sadly a bastard child between Katsuki’s mother and one of her unofficial male concubines. He just couldn’t remember which one since he never really interacted with the previous queen and her concubines.

But the few times he did, he could honestly say it now that he knows better.

She was a two faced bitch.

She mostly ignored Eri and would belittle Izuku under false complements. He also doesn’t remember Katsuki interacting much with his half sister either.

He watches Eri tentatively take a bite out of a cookie, her eyes shining in delight.

Much like the children Izuku would sneak their favorite snacks to back in the hospital he worked at. He pats her head again.

“Enjoy all that you want, Princess Eri.”

He’ll make sure she’ll have a good life this time.

And not die from a disease like she did before…

-

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“It seems like your stalker is busy these days, your Majesty,” pipes up Sero, dodging a blow from Katsuki’s sword. “Haven’t seen him following you around like a lost puppy in days.”

Katsuki grunts, hitting Sero in his unprotected side before the fucker could defend himself. Sero holds his most likely bruised side as Katsuki marches over to an attendant to take his practice sword.

“That bratty prince is nothing but a thorn in my side since this whole bullshit started,” he grunts, taking a towel from another attendant to wipe the sweat off. “Caused so many damn problems. Glad the fucker isn’t around to bother us.”

Just then, Kaminari comes into the training grounds with his arm in a sling.

And a flower crown on his head.

Katsuki glares. “What the fuck is on your head? And why the hell is your arm in a sling?!”

Kaminari laughs, scratching the back of his head. “I had a bit of an accident two hours ago and sprained my wrist badly. The Prince Consort and Princess Eri helped me.”

“Ha?” Katsuki looks at Kaminari like he has lost his mind. “Why the fuck are my sister and that brat doing together?”

Kaminari looks puzzled. “Brat?”

Sero snickers. “I keep forgetting you were away for a while with Shinsou. Midoriya Izuku is known as the Brat Prince.”

“He didn’t seem like a brat to me,” remarks Kaminari, a blush and smile coming across his face. “In fact, if he wasn’t married to our “mighty king” here, I would have taken the kind green haired beauty for myself!”

“I don’t think kind is the word I would use to describe him.”

Kaminari glances at Sero who shrugs his shoulders. “I’ve been stuck with him for a week when his convoy was being escorted here. My Gods, he could complain and wore such expensive clothes too.”

Kaminari blinks. “The clothes I saw him wearing today were what stable boys wear.”

Sero and Katsuki look at him in shock. Then the raven haired knight begins to laugh. “Hahaha! Very funny! The Brat Prince wearing stable boy clothes? You almost got me there!”

“But I’m not-“

Suddenly, some nearby knights scramble to the other side of the training hall where the windows lie. Many have awestruck faces, some pointing in astonishment out the windows.

Katsuki, now irritated, marches over to them. “Alright, what the hell has all of you so fascinated for?!”

A knight strutters out, “T-There’s someone out there riding your horse.”

Katsuki is deathly silent that everyone slowly turns to look at him, waiting for the king’s reaction.

“Someone… is what?!” He hollers out, making the knights jump. “Who the fuck is riding my horse?!” Better yet, who is, besides Katsuki, able ride Inferno?

Inferno, like her name, is a wild one. Katsuki has been the only one in the kingdom to be able to ride her. So who the fuck is-

“I-It’s the… Prince Consort, your Majesty.”

…. What….? How…?!

With the thought of murder on his mind, Katsuki storms out of the training hall and marches his way towards the horse training field. Some squires heading to the hall quickly get out of his way just by seeing the look on his face.

The sounds of other knights and horses reaches Katsuki's ears and he steps onto the field to find himself staring instead of yelling like he had planned on doing.

There he is, the Brat Prince, riding the HIS horse without any difficulty at all. In fact, Inferno looks rather pleased, the prince petting her mane.

"Such a wonderful horse, aren't you?" the prince coos, Inferno eating up all his compliments and Katsuki swears he can see that demonic horse smirking in pride. "She's a pretty horse, isn't she, Eri?"

Eri?

His little half sister is sitting in front of the prince, a smile on her face. In fact, Katsuki doesn't remember the last time his half sister even smiled. She always stood towards the shadows, as to not be seen or heard. Eri glances up at Izuku. "She definitely i-is a pretty horse!"

The prince smiles, one that Katsuki has never seen on his face. Usually the prince's smiles are deceitful and untrustworthy. This smile looks may appear nice, but the king will not let his guard down. Loudly clearing his throat, he gains Eri and the prince's attention.

Eri's smile quickly fades, a nervous look replacing it.

Katsuki doesn't know why, but he feels something bad churn in his gut at her expression. That the moment she sees him, she no longer smiles. The prince, on the other hand, doesn't lose the smile, but it appears forced now.

Like being in Katsuki's prescence is a bother to him.

That the king is nothing more than an eyesore.

Katsuki feels irritated, growling out, "Why the Hell are you on my horse?"

The prince raises a brow, appearing to be feigning ignorance. "Your horse? This sweet thing? Why, I had no idea, your Majesty."

... Your Majesty?

[golvio]

For reference, I don’t have the whole context for the scenes I’ve seen yet, but I feel like I have to put down my thoughts about this or else I’ll explode.

“Uwuuubuuuu Monster Pig Ganon is bad because he’s just a mindless monster because I think he’s ugly and something something Downfall Timeline,” yeah, sure, but have you considered this man loves being an abomination and a crime against the divinely-ordained order of things as decided by Hylia?

It’s not like people really treated him like he was a human being back when he was human! Neither the Gerudo nor the fandom bandwagon were interested in anything about him from the neck up, and the monarchy just wanted a perfect little automaton who endlessly flattered them and went to war for them when useful. He knew the second they realized they couldn’t hollow him out and put a type of man they could actually stand to consume in there, he’d be marked for culling. Why even bother pretending at that point? Why not become something that can’t be killed in any way that matters, instead?

Like…I’m having a lot of feelings I can’t quite put into words about the guy willingly forsaking his own humanity after the one glimpse we got into his early years in a spinoff had his people regarding his child self with this silent, seething contempt, waiting for him to magically change into the sort of man they could desire once he hits puberty and, they presume, put his silly hobbies behind him so he can become properly interested in girls and starting a family.

Sure, who he grew up into wasn’t a cute, cuddly Likable person, but…to spend your life knowing people reject you by default, will reject you once they get to know you, that they don’t want You but someone who looks just like you but with a “better” personality and totally different priorities…it’s not surprising to me that he’d grow bitter about that and desperately yearn to become Something Else Entirely, who those concerns couldn’t touch. Why he’d be so desperate to throw away that body that everyone desired but also regarded as something Made For Them to devour, to the point where they practically treated the person it was attached to like livestock, ignoring his wishes and prodding him when he moved in directions other than the one they were going. It’s not surprising he’d come to see such a body as a prison and want to escape it. And, like…I sense the sorts of impossible expectations that the people he grew up around placed on him to grant their wishes and satisfy their fantasies when they literally gave up on men entirely when he inevitably disappointed them and walked out.

And, after being told by the order outside that nevertheless dictated his entire life that he was inferior because destiny said so, no matter how important and special and talented he was in the place where he was born. That he should accept his lot in life and devote himself to a life of servitude to the Superior People, the One True King, the One True Goddess, etc. That he should give up on his ambitions and dreams and sleepwalk into a loveless political marriage devoted to siring children like a prizewinning bull for women who don’t even want to try to understand him, or to be ogled by the court ladies and gentlemen like an exotic zoo exhibit, a trophy and symbol of the new monarchy’s reach and influence… It’s understandable, that fantasy of becoming something that can just…bypass all that. Something that can no-sell all attempts to restrain or control it. Something so much more than any of the pitiful fools who try to shackle it in servitude. Something that can put out the eyes of anyone who looks at it without the respect it deserves, or turn them into deer and have them torn apart by their own hunting dogs.

And that shot of him looking at his own mutated hand, sodden and dripping with Gloom, where he flexes his hand and then starts to laugh with joy and wonder, as opposed to breaking down and lamenting the loss of his humanity, What Have I Become, etc. He doesn’t care if the god he ends up becoming is one of betrayal, revenge, consumption, the cycle of waning and decay and resurrection that all creatures of the land were beholden to before their home was invaded and the Shrines were built to stop it. So long as he is transcendent, that is all that matters.

It’s…I don’t know what it is, quite yet. I’ll know more when I have more context and see every memory all the way through.

I spoiled myself on a few plot details, and I’m actively looking forward to seeing Ganondorf be a transhumanist piece of shit who loves being all fucked up and stygian.

[daybreakx]

✄ pairing: frenemie’s ex! Seonghwa x gn! reader.

✄ genre: strangers to lovers, angst, fluff.

✄ summary: when you agreed to go on a blind date, you didn’t expect it to be with your friend’s ex, and to make things worse, you didn’t expect to like him that much.

✄ word count: 4.9k

✄ warnings: it is said mc dates both men and women, mentions of food and drinks, hospitals, a broken wrist, mc being called names. this is unedited, please bear with my mistakes.

✄ a/n: this is for the leftovers collab by @dulceamar​! this was so much fun, please do check out the other participants’ works!♡ also i am so so sorry this was so late. 

✄ rule #2

You are being stood up on Valentine’s Day.

It’s not a big deal, though. Or so you try to make everyone think every time they sneak a glance at you, that ‘oh no, poor thing’ look on their faces before they whisper to their companion. You are being stood up on Valentine’s Day and so what? 

Okay, maybe it is a big deal. Because everyone is staring at you, and you know that no matter how many glasses of sparkling water with lemon you order, the server is going to ask you to give up your table if you don’t order actual food. It doesn’t matter how bad they feel for you.

You want to kill San. That’s what you think about as you crush the little pieces of the free bread between two fingers, letting crumbs fall on your lap. To hell with keeping up a good appearance, who’s going to compliment you on it now, anyway? Certainly not San’s friend, the one who was supposed to be here thirty five minutes ago, attending the blind date which the former set up for you two.

Things always go wrong when you accept your friends’ attempts at getting you a partner. You had fallen victim to this project more than a couple times, when they promised they had found ‘just the right person’ for you. The first one was a guy who couldn’t and wouldn’t stop talking about himself at the dinner Mina set up for the two of you—which he made you pay for, along with his Uber back home. And then texted you that you weren’t as good looking as Mina had promised, so it was better that you never spoke again.

The next time it was a girl. She was pretty and you had a lot of things in common, she was funny and thought you attractive as well. But, she was also extremely in love with her ex. Yes you were attractive, but her ex had the prettiest eyes. Of course you were smart, but her ex had published articles in important magazines. And then she cried about her break up while you held her hand and ordered ice cream delivery for both of you. 

But at least neither had put you through the humiliation of being stood up on the one holiday that celebrates love and looks down on people like you: single, loveless people. 

“I am so sorry I’m late there was–” there’s a guy standing opposite you, one hand gripping the back of the chair tightly while he holds a small bouquet of half withered roses in the other. “y/n?” 

You look up from the very angry, already three paragraph long text you’re writing to San. You guess he knows your name because San had to tell him, obviously. But there’s that particular way he says it that immediately has your eyes widening. There has to be thousands of people who share your name, and thousands who share his. So what are the chances that the guy who is standing in front of you, your date, is your friend’s ex?

“Oh,” you mutter, standing up awkwardly. Suddenly overly self-conscious about your crumb-filled lap. “Hi, Seonghwa.”

You understand why San has no idea why this is a problem. He barely knows Eunhee, he never saw her with Seonghwa, probably… He wouldn’t do this on purpose. Even you barely saw Seonghwa with Eunhee. Their relationship was lightning quick and pretty intense, if you are to believe Eunhee, who has a flair for the dramatic, and maybe to threading bits of lies in the big panorama of what actually happened. 

You know Seonghwa from the couple of times he picked Eunhee up at work. The exchanges between you being a couple of ‘Hi, how are you?’s on too long lift rides to yours and Eunhee’s shared office. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he repeats, the same recognition shining in his eyes. “I–there was a lot of work to do and–” Seonghwa doesn’t like throwing out excuses, but it’s the truth. And he already feels bad enough about making you wait.

“It’s alright,” you soothe, “I know.” 

Seonghwa is on his way to become a Cardiologist, which already keeps him busy enough. You remember Eunhee complaining about it, how the only thing that matters to him is the hospital and other people’s hearts. Not hers. 

You're surprised he’s even out of the hospital on Valentine’s Day. Guessing the doctors who have a higher ranking than he does are the ones who can leave. 

He hands you the flowers, wincing as a few pink petals fall to the ground in a flutter. This is a mess, he knows. “Please,” he gestures to the chair. 

“Actually,” you say, your lip moving slightly to the left, in a wince. This is inappropriate, isn’t it? There’s some kind of rule somewhere that says you’re not supposed to date your friends’ exes. The thought that those kinds of rules only apply to people in High School flashes through your mind, but you know it’s not like that. And Eunhee would never forgive you for this. “I think I should go.”

The people around you, the ones who have witnessed the night unfold, pause. They’re not even discreet about it, leaving the food halfway to their mouths to give you an ‘are you serious right now?’ look. They saw you on the  brink of tears, drinking your sorry sparkling water and chewing on small pieces of bread, only to have a perfectly good looking guy finally show up and reject him. 

You finally stare back at them. Because you’re not embarrassed anymore and frankly, they need to start minding their own business. It’s Valentine’s Day for goodness sake, can’t they focus on themselves? There’s probably an engagement ring hidden in tiramisu out there, you’re not supposed to be the main focus. 

Seonghwa doesn’t think of himself as a mind reader. If he did—or if he was one— his personal relationships wouldn’t fail as often as they do. But he knows what you’re thinking even before you voice it: Eunhee. He is Eunhee’s ex, and you are Eunhee’s friend and there has to be some kind of rule somewhere that says you two can’t fraternize. 

“Please stay,” he pleads gently. He’s already done the most to ruin your night, and he doesn’t want you to go without making it up to you at least a little bit. And he knows wilted flowers are definitely not the way. “Let’s have dinner,” he finally notices the way the customers around are staring at the two of you and another pang of guilt goes through him. “Friendly dinner.”

You half-smile at his words, knowing he’s trying to take any implication off this whole situation. This is stupid, you’re grown-ups, these things are not supposed to matter, right? But then again, you remember Eunhee holding a Kleenex box against her chest while she told you about the break-up on your lunch break. 

 “Sure,” you finally sit back down, leaving the flowers on one side of the table, more petals flying down to the ground. You can only guess how many hours Seonghwa has been working judging by how tired he looks, he deserves a break and a nice meal. “The bread’s really good,” you nod towards the almost empty basket between you two, a small on your lips again. 

This elicits a laugh from Seonghwa before he gives you an apologetic look from above his menu. “I’m so sorry I was late.”

You shrug. “I only accept apologies—” ‘in cash’ is the ending that you tend to use with Mina and San. “–In dessert.”

Sure, you can be friendly with Seonghwa. Being friends is not the kind of thing that’s forbidden. Plus, he is friends with San. How come you never actually met him if he’s friends with San?

“Deal,” Seonghwa smiles, and before anything else can be added, someone actually finds an engagement ring hidden in the tiramisu, and the restaurant is flooded with clapping. The world falls back on course. It’s Valentine’s Day and love is to be celebrated.

“So,” Eunhee plops down in her spinning chair, eyes barely leaving the screen of her phone to look at you, hinting she’s in fact talking to you. “How was your blind date?”

“It was okay,” you smile, still typing on your laptop. “It actually–”

“You’ll never guess what?” she interrupts, spinning once. “Yena invited Seonghwa to her Valentine’s Day party.”

“Oh,” you know your turn to tell your story is over before it has begun, and you’re somehow glad especially by the immediate mention of the ex-boyfriend you saw last night. “Did he go?”

You want her to say no more than anything. Because what if that meant he was late to your dinner because he was at said party? One that Yena and Eunhee made a point of speaking about in front of you constantly, only to never extend an invitation. 

“It’s so painfully obvious they want us back together. Like, why would you invite him otherwise?” 

“But did he go?” You question again, the typing finally stopping. 

“Well, no,” Eunhee lets out a sigh, rolling her eyes. “He was probably at that stup– at work.”

“Right,” you nod, fingers hovering above the keys on your laptop. “And do you want him? Back I mean.”

Eunhee seems to consider this for a second. Enough for you to feel a rock drop from your throat to your stomach, settling in there with the weight of guilt. 

“Do you know how much money doctors earn a year?” She questions, eyes back on her phone as she taps away rapidly. 

“A lot?” You try, wondering where this question comes from. 

“A lot,” she nods, puckering her lips in a thoughtful gesture. “And I think it’s time I start looking out for my future, you know? You never have enough money.” 

She’s right, though. Money can never really be enough, especially if you come from a middle-class family and you’re neck deep in school debt. Which is not her case, at all. Eunhee’s family is New Money, her mother created some magical skincare line when Eunhee was a child and the rest was history. But you guessed she kind of felt that, if she became rich overnight, the opposite could happen just as fast. 

You shrug. “I guess, you’re right.” 

There are two knocks on your door and Yena’s head pops through before either of you can tell her to come in. 

“Are you ready to start working?” She tells cheerfully. “It’s my turn to be on the video.” 

You groan internally. Not because Yena wants to be on the video, but because you hate making them. However the boom of those silly short videos did earn you a bonus a couple months ago, so you keep them coming for the sake of also keeping your job.

“Let’s do it!” Eunhee joins in Yena’s excitement, both smiling mischievously at you. “Come on y/n, the long face won’t look good on camera!”

“I don’t want to be on camera,” you whine, taking your phone from the desk. “But let’s go.” 

You have a few unopened messages, from San and Mina and one unregistered number. You decide to deal with all of them later, especially with San who you’re having lunch with to discuss last night.

“Well, I don’t see what the problem is,” San shrugs, looking over his shoulder to check if your food is finally on the way. “Did you like Seonghwa?”

Of course you liked Seonghwa. He was sweet and attentive and paid for the whole dinner. After the initial awkwardness there wasn’t another such moment, he spent a good twenty minutes drawing a very accurate depiction of the human heart on a napkin to explain the latest case they got at the hospital, and when it was your turn to talk about your job he didn’t treat it as anything other than the most interesting thing he could possibly think of. 

“It is a problem, because it’s kind of a rule” you groan again, not surprised he doesn’t get it. “Just like, you can’t date your best friend’s brother OR your brother’s best friend.”

“That’s stupid,” San rolls his eyes, “Those are rom-com rules, y/n. They’re needed for the plot, this is real life.”

“Those kinds of things still apply,”

“We’re not in high school,” San shakes his head, already over this conversation. “Look, I had no idea he was your coworker’s ex. If it bothers you so much, then don’t see him again. Even if this was the only date that has worked for either of you in a while.”

“What did he tell you?”

“I’m not going to tell you if you’re going to be in your teen drama episode,” he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Fine. Teen drama episode is over,” you smile, raising your eyebrows. “What did he say?”

Seonghwa doesn’t have the greatest luck when it comes to dating. Sure he’s had his fair share of partners, from high school to college, to residency…Well, that doesn’t matter. The point is he doesn’t have good luck. His relationships always end. Whether on good or bad terms also comes with a tendency, which inclines towards everything being his fault.

Whether it’s his job, or that lack of connection that eventually leads to trouble, he hasn’t managed to maintain a relationship for longer than 6 months. 

Eunhee was not the exception. 

Seonghwa had been extremely attracted to her when they met. She was nice and sweet, and beautiful, of course. But as their relationship progressed, Seonghwa realized they might not be as compatible as he thought at first. He didn’t like it when his relationships failed, but at some point, when the ultimatum came and Eunhee told him it was either her or his career, he had to choose the one he’d known the longest. 

He felt bad about it of course, especially with all the heat he’d gotten from her and her friends on social media about how he only cared about his career and never about other people’s feelings. He’d stepped away from the dating scene enough to let San convince him of going on a blind date, and surprisingly he had loved it. 

But you hadn’t called him back. 

He’d sent you flowers the day after the date and texted you after getting your number from San. Seonghwa felt like giving you a call directly may be a little invasive so he’d suggested you let him know when you could talk. But it hadn’t happened. 

Maybe karma was finally reaching him, he’d liked you a lot, and now it seemed like you didn’t like him one bit. 

Then, what were you doing at the hospital he worked at?

“y/n?” 

You look up from the ground, eyes lightening recognition. “Oh, hi Seonghwa,” 

“Are you okay?” His thoughts about your date finally flying away. “Are you hurt?” 

You are in the ugly yellow chairs in the waiting room, hands wrapped around your phone as your foot taps on the ground. “I’m fine. I’m just here waiting for someone,” your eyes wander to the ER room, where Gaeun is.

The intern at your publicity company is hardworking enough that, trying to finish the job as fast as possible, she fell from a ladder and broke her wrist.  And you had to join her on the trip to the hospital because you were the only one who wasn’t too squeamish about her broken hand. 

“Is everything okay? Do you want me to ask for an update?” Seonghwa suggests once again, scanning you as if to prove you’re not really hurt. 

“It’s our intern, she broke her wrist today at work, an unfortunate accident while cleaning up a set.” You explain calmly, giving Seonghwa a faint smile. 

You’re grateful he’s offering, but you’re also a little anxious about his presence. Mostly because you’re embarrassed about ghosting him. It wasn’t on purpose, though. After Valentine’s Day, the company wanted you to hurry and go on to the next campaigns quickly, Spring and Easter were a lot of work. 

“Do you want a coffee while you wait?” Seonghwa offers next, hands going inside the pockets of his white coat. You don’t really want to take his whole appearance in detail, he’s dangerously handsome as it is. “The cafeteria is not bad at all.” 

“Aren’t you busy?” You question, but you’re already getting up from your chair. You could use the caffeine and the company, even if you’re afraid it might be awkward. 

Seonghwa shakes his head before gesturing for you to lead the way down the hall. 

*

Your nerves ease as you sit on the steel chair and Seonghwa deposits a cup of black coffee in front of you. Gaeun is getting a cast and her sister is on the way to the hospital, things are starting to look up.

“Sorry about your friend,” Seonghwa says, emptying a sugar packet on his coffee. “Must have been scary.”

“It was. But she will be okay, right?” you raise your eyebrows at him and he nods with a small smile. “She’ll be getting a few days off too.”

“That’s great,”

“Look, Seonghwa,” you start, your mouth in a slight wince, “I’m really sorry about completely ghosting you. The job excuse is lame, but it’s true, I’m just flooded. It’s February 18th and we’re already behind.”

“It’s okay, really. I know I didn’t make the greatest impression at our date,” he cringes, looking down at the table. “I’m really sorry about it.”

“I had a great time, it wasn’t that,” you assure, smiling at him. “I also really liked the flowers, Eun—” you stop yourself from mentioning Eunhee a little too late. She was obsessed with the flowers, taking around 20 pictures to post on her Instagram. What she didn’t tell you is that she wanted to get a reaction out of Seonghwa by doing so.

“I’m glad you liked them, and that you had a good time too, even after how messy it started.” Seonghwa chose to ignore the mention of his ex-girlfriend.

San said Seonghwa enjoyed the date too, and insisted on how ridiculous it was that you let a former relationship, one that hadn’t even lasted long enough, get in the way of getting to know Seonghwa more. 

“It’s okay, I understand.”

You don’t  want any more blind dates, you don't want to go through the whole process of getting to know someone and finding out your friends had got it wrong again, or matching with a person on a dating app just to realize they’d been lying about their real personality all along.

“Would you like to have coffee another time? Outside of here?” you ask, leaving your now empty cup on the table. “Don’t get me wrong, the coffee is good, but I don't really like hospitals.”

Seonghwa chuckles. “I would like that, yes. I promise to be on time.”

“Just promise to try your best,” you shake your head in amusement, “And remember apologies come in dessert.”

You tell yourself you keep it private because everything in the world is already public enough as it is. People can see where you went to school just by finding your Facebook profile, they can know your real time location via Instagram, they learn some of your deepest thoughts if they scroll through your Twitter likes. 

But this is just Seonghwa and yours. 

It’s mid May now, and you’ve been seeing each other nonstop after sharing the hospital coffee. He tries his best, just like he promised, to make it on time every time you have a date and you try your best not to forget to text him back. And so far, it’s working out perfectly fine. 

“Oh y/n, please let us use it!” Yena begs, touching a red petal with the tip of her index finger. “We will get it back to you in one piece.”

“I don’t know, they seem fragile. I would like to keep them here,” you try to sound as reasonable as possible, which isn’t enough to get through Yena and Eunhee once they have an idea in mind. 

They’re both on their way to become influencers and finally leave this job. Eunhee has the upper-hand with her makeup tutorials and the sponsorship from her mom’s company, but Yena isn’t too far behind. And they’re both always looking for free props to use on their videos. 

“Is this still the guy from the blind date?” Eunhee asks, cocking her head to observe the flowers up close. It’s the fourth bouquet you get at work. “Seems like that worked out pretty well.”

You nod, scrolling down the proposals you have for the next campaign. “I really like him,” you say absentmindedly.

“So can we use them?” Yena insists, “It’s just a couple pictures!”

“I’d rather not,” you say again, “Please just leave them where they are.”

Yena sighs in defeat. “Alright, thank you y/n! They’re beautiful, so I get it.”

Gaeun, who still holds her hurt wrist against her chest, knocks on the door. “y/n, the boss wants to see you.”

“Coming,” you smile at her, you feel somehow guilty that she’s still injured although it was you who told her to wait for someone to hold the ladder for her that day.

When you come back to your office, your red roses are gone, in their place there’s the note written by Seonghwa himself half-opened and a free sample from Eunhee’s mom’s skin care line. 

You don’t even know how to react to this other than throw Eunhee’s ‘gift’ to the other side of the room. She always gets what she wants, it doesn’t matter how many times she’s told no. You don’t even linger on the fact that she read your private note, and wasn’t even decent enough to pretend like she hadn’t. 

This is the first time you relish the fact that you are dating Seonghwa, and not her. No matter how much she wants him and how much she still tries to get his attention, he’s yours. The thought grosses you out right away, you’re not like this. 

You keep your relationship private because it’s the right thing to do, but also deep down, you still want to spare Eunhee’s feelings. 

As if she deserved it.

+++

“What’s wrong?” Seonghwa asks as you lie your head on his lap, the thing about really strong emotions is that they give you a headache, and all you want is to close your eyes and not think about work, or Eunhee, or anything other than your boyfriend’s hands on your hair.

“Just a bad day at work,” you mutter, lowering the volume on the TV. Your apartment is closer to the hospital than his, and he’s frequently here after his shifts. “How was yours?”

“It was okay,” he shrugs. It’s what he does when he’s had a hard day too, probably a complicated case with a bad ending. “What do you want for dinner?”

You sit up, stretching. “I don’t know, pizza?” you yawn. Once your eyes stop watering, they focus on the red roses across the room. They’re far less than Seonghwa sent you this morning, and you have no idea what happened to them. Maybe Eunhee tossed them in the trash, or simply ripped the petals apart and kept them somewhere. 

Seonghwa didn’t seem to notice this, or if he did, he said nothing about it, probably guessing that the trip from the office to your house had been what mangled them. 

“Maybe we should go out,” Seonghwa suggests, resting his chin on your shoulder. “That should clear our minds a little,” 

You smile leaning against him. “You’re right.” But you don’t want to change, you're already in your house attire of a faded shirt and extremely loose pants. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Seonghwa laughs, “We’re getting street food and then coming back, and you look gorgeous anyway.” 

You let out a low whine, but you feel too lazy to change, and the promise of warm fish cake already has your mouth watering. Also he just called you gorgeous and there’s nothing else that will convince you to change. “Let’s go then.”

You wish the trip on the elevator was a little longer as you lean against Seonghwa and he presses his lips to your hair. But sadly, it comes to an end and you have to settle for holding his hand as you walk down the street to your favorite street food stand.

The night is warm and you don’t need to be standing so close together, yet you huddle up while chewing on your food. You are glad to have Seonghwa, and you still regret the ugly thought you had earlier. You like him, it’s not because him being with you means he’s not with Eunhee. You should have never thought about that. 

“What are you doing?” you laugh as Seonghwa points his phone towards you. “Stop!”

“I’m taking a picture of you,” the sound of the camera can’t be heard above the traffic, and Seonghwa seems immediately satisfied with the result, so he doesn’t shove the phone in your face again. “There, I sent it to you.”

Your phone buzzes, and you know it’s him but you don’t want to check it right now. “If I look ugly…” you begin, but he cuts you off with a gesture of his hand. 

“You could never look ugly.”

You are shunned the moment you step into the office. Even Gaeun looks awkward when she tells you there’s another impromptu meeting happening today before she runs to the coffee corner, to fill Eunhee’s pink mug with extra sweet coffee. The rest of the employees around, who normally say ‘good morning’ or ‘nice to see you’ are too quiet as you walk between their cubicles on the way to your office.

Yena is the first one to see you as you arrive at the door, and with a bitter face, she rushes to close the door in your face. But Eunhee, between what seems like a sob and hiccup stops her. 

“What’s going on?” you ask, stepping inside. Although you are starting to have a pretty good idea about it. Your phone buzzed nonstop this morning, but you were running late for work and honestly, had it been a matter of life and death, they would have probably called.

“I cannot believe you have the guts to show up like this!” Yena yells, throwing both arms in the air. “And pretend like you don’t know anything, seriously, y/n? Are you that much of a jerk?”

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” you let the wave of annoyance pass through, you cannot engage so quickly. You need to find your footing first. “Are you okay Eunhee?”

“What do you think?” Yena bites again, “After you stole her boyfriend, what do you think?!”

Eunhee lets out a wail once again and wipes her eyes with the tissue she’s holding in her hand. “How could you?” she sobs.

“There are rules, y/n. I can’t believe you are such a scum!” Yena is yelling again, and with the door open half of the people outside turn to stare at you.

“Hey!” you finally raise your voice too, “Don’t ever call me that again.”

“That’s what you are, how could you do this to Eunhee? You know how much she loves Seonghwa, you are the worst.”

“They weren’t even dating anymore,” you say in a low voice. There are rules, you know there are rules. “I thought–”

“You just wanted to take him for yourself because you’re jealous of me,” Eunhee gets up from her spinning chair, still holding the Kleenex box against her chest. “You are so jealous of me, it’s obvious. You always want everything I have.”

“Listen, Eunhee–”

“No, she doesn’t have to listen to you! You did this out of spite, you’re a horrible friend.”

It wasn’t only Eunhee and Yena you had kept your relationship from, the rest of your friends knew too that you were seeing someone but only San knew who it was. Because you were afraid that, once they learned about Seonghwa and Eunhee’s history, they would call you that: A horrible friend. And maybe that’s what you were. 

“And where the hell is Gaeun?” Yena scowls, wrapping one arm around Eunhee. “Come on sweetie, let’s wash your face and I’ll see where that girl is with your coffee.”

“Eunhee, I didn’t mean–” you start but Yena cuts you off again by shoving the palm of her hand in front of your face.

“Save it.”

Eunhee’s shoulders shake as Yena leads her out of the room, but then she stops on her tracks, sending Yena on her way to find Gaeun. 

“Eunhee, can we talk about this?”

Her reddened eyes fixate on you, but no more tears fall. “You always wanted my leftovers, y/n.” there is a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “So enjoy them, while they last.”

Seonghwa’s instagram is open on her laptop, and you see the picture he took of you last night with some lyrics about how life is brighter by your side as the caption.

You can’t bring yourself to smile, not when you feel 10 pairs of eyes on your back. Not when you’re the newly exposed villain. 

Rules exist for a reason, at least that’s what you told San, but you couldn’t follow a simple one.

[usernamerenn]

a loving proposal

pairing — haitani rindou x f!reader

summary — it’s about wanting you to be happy, not you loving him back

note — spoilers, toxic relationship, cheating. this is a sequel to “a loveless marriage.” likes and reblogs are always appreciated

“Rindou, this is my fiancée,” Ran introduced, gesturing to the figure that stood beside him in a beautiful lilac kimono. “Darling, this is my younger brother, Rindou.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said quietly, your movements refined and graceful as you politely lowered your head in greeting.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Rindou replied indifferently.

When he had first met you, Rindou remembered thinking that you were nothing special. With the exception of your family name, you were just another pretty face, someone who was meant to marry his brother and consolidate Bonten’s power and influence. In Rindou’s mind, you were simply his brother’s future wife, nothing more and nothing less.

And yet, as you silently stood next to his brother, Rindou couldn’t help but take notice of your eyes. Your eyes were admittedly beautiful, but there was also an indescribable, melancholic quality to them that bothered him. What would your eyes look like if you were actually happy, he wondered. Would your eyes look even more beautiful than they were now? Would you look even more beautiful? Rindou, however, was quick to remind himself that you were his brother’s fiancée, nothing more and nothing less. He wasn’t stupid enough to fall in love with you.

“Honestly, you Haitani brothers,” you spoke disapprovingly, clear exasperation in your voice as you wrapped a bandage around Rindou’s bloodied and bruised torso. With each sharp pull of the gauze, Rindou would wince, but he said nothing as he allowed you to continue addressing his injuries. “There, done.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, only to harshly glare at you once he noticed your staring. “What?”

“Nothing. I just find it funny that despite being famed as a skilled fighter like your brother, you still somehow got this injured,” you replied with an amused smirk.

“Well, I’m sorry that I can’t be like my brother,” Rindou scoffed, referring to the minimally injured Ran who had just left a few minutes before. Although he was used to being compared to his brother, it still angered Rindou that you had bothered to mention it.

“Don’t get so offended,” you told him while putting away the first aid kit. “I think it’s a good thing. It means that you’re human like the rest of us, unlike your arrogant and supposedly perfect brother. I like you just the way you are, Rindou.”

Your statement had Rindou blinking in surprise, fighting back a blush as he tried to process your words. For most of his life, he had always been regarded as the inferior brother, constantly having to live in his Ran’s shadow. Ran was the charismatic one, the stronger fighter, the better leader. While Rindou most certainly loved his brother, he was also quite jealous of him at times, yet here you were, telling him the complete opposite of what he had come to think.

“Should you really be talking about my brother like that in front of me?” Rindou asked quietly, trying to ignore the strange feeling that was starting to unravel in his chest.

“I’m not scared of Ran. What? Are you going to tell on me?” you challenged with a taunting tilt of your head. “I thought you Bonten men hated traitors.”

Rindou stared at you for a few seconds more before chuckling under his breath, smiling in full once he noticed the subtle smile that you had sent his way before you turned to the window and gazed out at the orange-painted sky. He almost forgot how to breathe in that moment, as you looked simply beautiful against the light of the evening sun. The more Rindou stared, the more he began to terrifyingly realize what he had been feeling earlier. He had fallen in love with you.

“And that concludes today’s meeting,” Koko suddenly announced, bringing Rindou’s attention back to the screen of his laptop.

Silently reading over the document in front of him, Rindou couldn’t help but sigh in annoyance. It had been a two hour meeting, yet he had only managed to type up a few lines of notes, too busy reminiscing and distracted by the memories of you to actually pay attention. Shutting off his laptop, he was about to leave the meeting room when the door was violently thrown open, causing everyone to turn and stare at you as you angrily marched toward Ran.

“You,” you addressed murderously, sharply glaring at your husband as he stood next to Rindou with a fake, welcoming smile.

“Hello, darling. What brings you-”

“Save it, Haitani! I can’t fucking believe you!” you snapped, looking as if you were one step away from finally killing your husband. “I said that you could do whatever you wanted in this marriage, but I also told you to never, ever, bring another woman home to our house. Do you know how angry and embarrassed I was to have my own mother find one of your whores sleeping in our bed this morning?!”

“I warned her before leaving for work that you’d be coming home from your trip today,” Ran responded with an indifferent shrug. “It’s not my fault she-”

“Be silent,” you demanded coldly, and to Rindou’s surprise, his brother actually listened. “I’ll be spending the next few days at my family’s estate. Don’t let this happen again.”

With one final glare, you left as quickly as you had arrived, leaving the other Bonten executives to nervously glance at one another as they all stood there in awkward silence, not knowing what to say. No one said a word until a single voice spoke up.

“Ran,” Mikey addressed lowly, gazing at the older Haitani with an unreadable expression. “I don’t care about what goes on in your marriage, just make sure that it doesn’t interfere with Bonten’s work.”

“Certainly, boss,” Ran confirmed with a charming smile.

Nodding his head in approval, Mikey soon left with Sanzu following right after him. Rindou was the next person to leave, feeling angry and annoyed as Ran tried to converse with him as if nothing had happened. He supposed in Ran’s mind, nothing had happened, as his brother often considered his arguments with you to be rather unimportant and trivial, but this only helped to add to Rindou’s anger.

“You want to get some lunch with me?” Ran asked.

“I’m busy,” Rindou mumbled, refusing to meet his brother’s eyes.

“Since when?”

“Since now,” he replied pointedly, causing Ran to fall silent for a second.

“You’re going to go see her, aren’t you?” Ran asked with an accusatory, knowing frown. “Don’t think that I don’t notice the way you look at my wife, little brother. She’s not worth it, Rindou. It’s just business.”

“I’m done with this conversation,” Rindou stated before walking off in the direction of his office. He soon found you sitting on the couch of his office, your arms protectively wrapped around yourself as you stared up at him with tears in your eyes, the sight of which broke Rindou’s heart.

“I-I can’t do this anymore, Rin,” you cried, your usually calm and stoic mask now gone.

It was always like this, he thought somberly, with you crying after a fight or argument with Ran and him trying his best to make you smile again. It was clear how much of an effect Ran truly had on you, and Rindou absolutely hated it. He hated seeing how much his brother broke you.

Placing his laptop on his desk, Rindou quietly took a seat next to you on the couch, resting a cautious hand on your shoulder before he gently pulled you into a comforting embrace. Even with you crying, he couldn’t help but think that you looked hauntingly beautiful.

“Don’t cry,” he said before shooting you a wry smile. “That idiot’s not worth your tears.”

“I-I really can’t do this anymore, Rin,” you told him sorrowfully. “Mother blamed me this morning for being an inadequate wife, and I’m so tired. I’m tired of being the only person in this marriage to ever make an effort. I love Ran, but all he does is constantly hurt me.”

“I know,” Rindou acknowledged. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you mumbled in response, looking exhausted and defeated.

“I wish it could’ve been me,” Rindou selfishly admitted a while later.

“I wished it could’ve been you, too,” you replied sadly. You had known about his feelings for quite some time now. After all, he looked at you the same way you looked at Ran. Maybe in a different life, you could’ve fallen in love with and married Rindou. You were sure that the two of you would’ve been happy together.

Another moment of quietness passed before Rindou spoke up again, his tone solemn as he said, “You can’t keep going on like this. You’re clearly suffering, and you deserve to be happy.”

“Rin, you know I can’t. My family-”

“Wanted you to marry a Bonten executive,” Rindou interrupted with an unimpressed frown. “I know. That’s what it said in the contract, but it doesn’t have to be Ran.”

“What are you trying to say?” you asked quietly.

“Leave Ran and marry me,” Rindou offered, sounding absolutely serious and resolute as he made his request.

“Rindou,” you said in exasperation, thinking that he was simply joking. You were about to break away when he suddenly lifted his hands to lovingly frame your face, making you stare at him in complete shock as he spoke his next words.

“I love you,” he stated without a second of hesitation, gazing at you with all the love and adoration in the world. “I love the way you passionately talk about your favourite books and plays. I love the way you’re always so focused when practising on your shamisen and how you’ll hum along to whatever song you’re playing at the time. I love the way you give silly names to all the bonsai plants around your house and how you love Japanese sweets but aren’t willing to admit it. I love your smile, your grace, your beauty, your intelligence and confidence. I love all of you. You don’t ever have to love me back, but please, I just want you to be happy.”

“R-Rin-”

“Do you trust me?” he asked suddenly, offering you that handsome smile of his that always reassured you that you were going to be all right.

“I-I do.”

“Then trust me.”

“I-I’m scared,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you held onto his hands in fear. “What if you end up hating me? You deserve to be with someone who loves you back, someone who’ll make you happy. You deserve to be with someone better than me.”

“You’re already the best,” was Rindou’s simple response.

After a few seconds of anxious silence, you finally agreed, a shaky yet hopeful smile beginning to appear on your face. “All right. I trust you, Rin.”

“Thank you. I promise that I’ll make you happy,” Rindou said sincerely as he kissed the top of your head, silently vowing to himself that he would never break this promise to you.

taglist — @aejoan​ @holytrinixty @ur-moms-car

[lola-lightwood]

EvaJacks Fic - Deleted Scene 🦊

soooo remember when Jacks and Eva are leaving the Fortuna house...

We get to see their carriage ride to the Fortuna house but not from the Fortuna house. So, I wrote something that I thought could go down :))

Mostly Eva POV but some Jacks POV at the end. 

These are Jacks last words to Eva before this scene:

“You’re getting better at the meanness, Little Fox. But you have to have a working heart for it to break. I do not. I can keep Apollo under this spell for eternity. So you can either marry him and save him from a life of misery, or you can try to prevent a dusty prophecy that you don’t even understand.” 

Evangeline’s mind whirled over Jack’s last words. Would Jacks really leave Apollo to suffer if Evangeline didn’t marry him? His smile when he spoke had seemed cruel enough. Evangeline decided she didn’t have a choice. She didn’t think she could live with the possibility of Apollo being heartbroken forever…and all because of her.

Evangeline picked at her nails, dutifully ignoring Jacks across the carriage, even as her thoughts strayed in his direction. What could Jacks want with her and the Valory Arch? The Matriarch seemed fearful that Evangeline would fulfill the prophecy. Strangely fearful. So much so that she’d broken from the spell of Evangeline’s kiss. Evangeline couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach that she was falling right into Jack’s plans. It felt like hanging off a cliff with a dark abyss under her. She could feel a terrible fate coming but couldn’t seem to figure out what it was or how to get out. 

She stole a glance at Jacks. Her eyes widened in surprise as she found him already looking at her. Something tingled in her stomach and traced its way to her hand in a delicate dance. 

She hadn’t expected to find him staring at her. Even after the events of today, Evangeline couldn’t stop likening Jacks to a tortured but breathtaking angel.

“Staring at me again?” Jacks crooned.

“You were staring at me first.” Evangeline pointed her finger at him. Jacks finally tore his gaze from her eyes to glance at her pointed finger. He smirked and spoke again.

“Little Fox, I was merely observing. I wouldn’t stare at the future princess of the North. You’re promised to another.” 

“Only because you’re forcing us to.” She retorted.

“Yes, that is true, isn’t it.” He murmured so low she almost couldn’t make out the words. Maybe she imagined them because his next words carried his arrogant, cold tone. 

“Amazing how quickly you moved from your ‘true love’ to another man. Richer and handsomer.” His cruel gaze slid to her. “I suppose that’s all it takes to pull your gaze.”

The heat rushing through Evangeline switched from delicate dancing to a raging bonfire. Jacks would think the worst of her. She’d lost Luc twice and was heartbroken over it. Ending up as Apollo’s fiancé had never been her plan. She was just making the best of her situation. 

“You’re being cruel again, Jacks.”

“I’m just considering the facts. Not even a few months difference. Do you even know what heartbreak is?” Jacks continued. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I was hurting.” She wouldn’t let him tell her differently.

“Then you have a misguided definition of love and loyalty. True love doesn’t look like that.” His tone was cool, guarded and emotionless, just like his expression. And those words hit a truth Evangeline didn’t want to admit—that maybe Luc didn’t truly love her.

“Just because you’re loveless and broken, it doesn’t mean you have to throw it onto other people.” Evangeline retorted. She was tired of his cruel, too-close to-the-truth words.

 But Evangeline’s fire burned away when she saw his eyes flash with pain. He covered it up quickly. She doubted she would have seen it if she hadn’t been looking straight into his eyes. Once she voiced the words, she felt inexplicably sorry. Even if he was harsh to her, she hadn’t meant to hurt him. Honestly, she didn’t think she could. 

“Jacks.” She spoke his name softly, her tone apologetic. 

“Little Fox, I couldn’t—“

“No.” She pushed a finger up against his mouth. Gosh, this finger had a mind of its own today. How she ended up with her hand on his lap, her finger against his lips, and her body leaned halfway across the carriage she had no idea. She was almost afraid to meet his gaze. So she focused on where her finger laid against his mouth. 

He hadn’t so much as breathed and neither had she. She let out a shaky breath. 

“Don’t reply with another cruel response. We don’t need to be mean to each other.” She spoke to his lips. “I’m sorry.” 

She finally raised her eyes to meet his. 

Those eyes. 

The arresting blue held a shocked expression. A small part of her rejoiced that she’d surprised him. But another part wondered at the other half of his expression that was almost vulnerable. Like she’d surprised him so much that the walls around his being were still slowly building up. His lips twitched beneath her fingers, drawing her gaze back to them. 

His full lips were flushed, promising and just perfect. Without a smirk or a cruel smile, Jacks looked like the definition of kissable. Then, she had the terrifying thought that it’d be so easy to just close the last few inches. The thought of tasting him and pulling him close brought a brilliant flush to her cheeks. Even for a moment, if she could forget his curse and kiss the cruel outer layer away.

When she raised her head, she found him staring at her—but not her eyes. Far worse, he was staring at her lips—as if he was considering the very same thing. 

And then she was falling into his lap. 

The carriage had lurched to a stop pushing Evangeline completely on to Jacks. Her hands bracketed his face on the back wall and her face fell on to his shoulder. 

But her legs…

Evangeline realized in horror that she was halfway on to his lap with one leg tangled in his. “Oh gosh, I…” She began to leave the precarious position when the carriage began again and threw Evangeline off balance. She would have fallen backwards onto the cushion if Jacks hadn’t grabbed her waist with both hands, pulling her tightly to him. 

Now, she was fully on his lap. Evangeline was raising her head to look at Jacks, almost afraid of what she was going to see in his expression, when the carriage lurched to a stop again. This time, Jacks’ arms saved her from falling. She was vaguely aware of some noises outside the carriage. She may have even heard her name. But she couldn’t focus on anything else besides Jacks cold but firm fingers holding her in place on his lap. 

Well, until the carriage door was thrown open and the bright afternoon sun filled the space. The light temporarily blinded Evangeline from seeing the figure standing at the entrance. This person had the largest bouquet of flowers she’d ever seen and…oh my god it was Apollo. 

A gasp left her mouth as she pulled herself harshly out of Jack’s cool but oh so inviting body. 

“Apollo! It’s so good to see you.” 

“Is it?” Jacks murmured to her left. 

Apollo looked lost for words. He seemed to be struggling between a happy smile at seeing Evangeline and a confused expression at seeing her wrapped around Jacks.

Evangeline stuttered through her words. “This…I wanted to…”

“It seems my carriage driver is in need of better control.” Jacks finally stood up and brushed off his knees. He met Apollo’s gaze with a confident smile. “It took a lot of my effort to keep her safe, for you.” He added with a gesture in Apollo’s direction. “Now, if you’ll take your fiancé from my presence, I’ll be off on my way.”

Apollo seemed to think that was a suitable answer. His expression lifted and filled with a brilliant smile. Evangeline couldn’t help giving one in return. Truly, this man looked at her as if she was his universe. If only his feelings could be real. Deep down that was what she wished for. A love that was steadfast and honest.

As Apollo lead her back towards the castle grounds, Evangeline turned to look at Jacks. He leaned against the carriage toying with a bright red apple she hadn’t noticed before. He seemed calm but even in that tiny glance, Evangeline could tell something was bothering him.

Just then, Jacks head rose and met her gaze. He allowed a small smile to show on his lips. Evangeline felt it was the most genuine thing Jacks had ever given her. Too bad it was short lived. 

“I have the most perfect dinner planned.” Apollo tugged on her hand firmly. Evangeline turned around to plaster a thin smile. She couldn’t muster the words or energy to reply. There’d been too many revelations today.

~~~ Jacks

Jacks toyed with the apple in his hands, needing to fidget to counteract his thoughts. He’d lost control of the drivers today. He couldn’t tell whether it was a slip in his concentration or a weakening of his powers. It had never happened before. And for some reason, Jacks felt his Little Fox was tied to it. Perhaps, she truly is magical being. 

He glanced at her disappearing figure and immediately shook his hands, trying to rid the feeling of her body on his hands. She turned around then--looking for him--as her fiancé led her away. Jacks felt the corner of his lips lift. 

He couldn’t lie to himself. For a moment, he’d wanted to kiss her. He didn’t think much of it though because it had been happening to him for years. Any girl he found remotely attractive, he’d be persuaded beyond reason to close the distance. The hardest part was knowing he could make their dreams come true. His kiss would always enchant them, leaving them with a feeling of bliss and happiness like no other. And, in that carriage, he wanted to give that to Evangeline.

Except she would die. And that’s usually what stopped him from giving in.

No, this interaction wasn’t odd. She was just…attractive. Anyone could see it in those bright blue eyes and soft pink curls. Perhaps, her strive to see the good in people is also endearing for some people. 

As he pushed himself into the carriage and commanded the drivers to move, he lost himself in their previous conversation. He hadn’t meant to be so cruel. He had lashed out when it wasn’t even true. Her only crime was caring for someone who didn’t give her the love she deserved. 

Jacks ran a tired hand over his face and hair. He had other things to focus on. Today was a complete disaster. The Little Fox found out more information about the prophecy and Jacks knew her curious mind would not let go of this inquiry so fast. But, if she married Apollo then everything would be on track. And with her golden heart and his threats, he had little doubt she would.

[mymoodwriting]

Request for Anon (Yandere King Hendery) 4.8k, yandere, near-death experience, poison, drowning, angst

“Are you alright, my love?”

“As if you care.”

    One minute you were in the library reading peacefully, when suddenly you began to feel ill. You stood up to call for help, and that’s when everything went dark. Now you were regaining your senses, finding yourself lying in bed, Hendery at your side, holding your hand. Once you were properly conscious you pulled away from him, trying to sit up.

“What happened?”

“You tell me, my love. Don’t try to get up.” Hendery said. “You’re still recovering.”

“From what?”

“I’m not sure. There hasn’t been word yet from the physician, but do tell me, what happened?”

“I don’t know. I was fine, and then I wasn’t.”

“One of your ladies found you collapsed on the floor, seizing up a bit.”

“I don’t remember any of that.”

“My love, you are burning up with a fever.” Hendery forced you to lay back down. “You need to rest.”

“No, I need-”

“Your majesty.”

    The royal physician entered your chambers, along with your lady, Misu. She came over to your bed side, checking you over as the physician spoke.

“My examination shows that her majesty was poisoned. Something in the food perhaps-”

“Poison! Who would dare harm my queen?”

“I do not have those answers. All I’ve discovered is that the poisoning is possibly a result of two ingredients mixing together in the food. This could be a coinci-”

“Perhaps. I need to know exactly what type of poison this is.”

“Given that her majesty did not finish her meal, the effects were minimal. She’ll make a full recovery.”

“Very well, continue looking into this and report to me any new discoveries.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

    At that time the royal physician took their leave, although you were still processing. You couldn’t believe someone had actually tried to kill you, after everything you’ve been through.

“Leave.” Hendery stated. “Now.”

    Misu only hesitated for a moment before quickly removing herself from the room. You were lost in your own thoughts until you felt Hendery reaching for your hand. You pulled away and glared at him.

“I never thought you’d resort to such methods.”

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing to you.”

“Is that so?” Hendery chuckled. “You can’t escape me that easily, my love.”

“Excuse me? Do you think I tried to kill myself?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve tried to leave me. Perhaps you thought to try a more permanent method.”

“As if I would leave you my kingdom.”

“And how many times have you tried running from it now?”

“Seven, and I wasn’t running away from my kingdom. I was trying to gain my freedom so I could come up with a proper plan to get rid of you!”

“And you expect me to believe that? To me it just seems like you miscalculated something.” Hendery smiled. “Lucky me.”

“I did not try to kill myself! Someone just tried to kill me! Shouldn’t you be actually concerned here?”

“My love, as if anyone would dare to do such a thing. You are beloved by your people and me, no one holds a grudge against you.”

“Don’t you?”

“The two of us have what you would call, tough love.”

“Loveless is a more accurate term.”

“Regardless, it seems I must be keeping a closer eye on you.”

“What?”

“Once you’re feeling better you shall be moved to my chambers. It’s best you stay close to me so I can make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

“Someone tried to kill me! You should be investigating!”

“You want me to frame someone for your crimes? No, no, no, none of that.” Hendery took your hand. “We’ll just say you had an allergic reaction and move on.”

“I did not try to kill myself! And I’ll prove it.”

“Very well, if that’s what you wish to entertain yourself with as you recover, but it doesn’t change my mind.”

    Hendery called for Misu, telling her to bring you some medication so you could get some rest. Once she returned he excused himself. Misu made sure you took your medicine and helped you get comfortable. You slowly drifted off, even if you were worried about someone making a move again, you were certain Hendery would at least do well to keep an eye on you. When you woke up later you saw that the sun was still out.

“Your majesty, how are you feeling?”

“Uh… the same… has there been an update?”

“Not yet. Although his majesty requested you be moved to his chambers once you woke if your situation had not worsened. There are guards here to escort you.”

“Of course… he’s persistent.”

    You needed help getting out of bed, but you managed to stand. There was no way you were going to walk, so Misu helped you, another one of your ladies helping you as well. It was annoying and not helpful to be moving rooms, but you didn’t need Hendery throwing a fit. You settled into his bed, remembering the time when you slept here willingly. Although you didn’t want to think about that, you had other things to worry about.

“Misu, I need you to do something for me.”

“Yes, your majesty, what can I do for you?”

“I need a list of all the kitchen staff, along with their duties and years of experience.”

“The entire kitchen staff? That’s going to be a long list.”

“I know.”

“Very well then, I shall gather that information for you as quickly as I can.”

“Thank you.”

    Even if your recovery was important, you needed to find out who tried to kill you. They had failed in their attempts, so they could try again, and most of all you knew Hendery’s words were true. You couldn’t see your kingdom hating you, as far as you knew no one had a problem with you, which made this all the more concerning. You stayed in bed, thinking things over when the smell of food interrupted your thoughts.

“Feeling better, my love?” Hendery entered with some servants. “You need to eat to recover your strength so I thought I’d join you.”

    You had help sitting up, a tray was placed on the bed so the food would be easily accessible to you. Hendery watched you for a moment, not speaking until you two were alone.

“Are you not hungry?”

“Someone tried to kill me, they poisoned my food. Why would I-”

“On this again, are we?”

“I’m not lying.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Clearly, it’s starting to make me think you tried to kill me.”

“Why would I ever do that?”

“Because you got what you wanted, no reason to keep me around.”

“I went through a lot of trouble to get you, my love. All I wanted was you, the kingdom was a bonus.” Hendery offered you a smile. “It was very fortunate your father accepted me as I am. I feared he wouldn’t as I had nothing to offer, but my love. I suppose that’s what won him over in the end.”

“How unfortunate for him, and me.”

“My love, I know you don’t hate me. We would not be here if that was the case.”

“I’m here because of your lies.”

“I’ve never lied to you. My feelings remain the same even if you blame me for your parents death.”

“I know you killed them, and you’re trying to get rid of me too.”

“My love.” Hendery got up, a smile still present on his lips as he grabbed your face, looking down on you. “As much as you wish to blame me for the tragedies of your life, you have no proof I did anything. I love you even if your heart is confused at the moment. You’ll come back to me on your own, one way or another, so don’t look at me with hateful eyes. I would never make an attempt on your life, so get that idea out of your head.”

    Hendery placed a kiss on your head, letting you go. He took a bite of your food and sat back down at your bedside.

“See, the food is fine. Eat.”

You were still weary, but also hungry at this point. Although before you made an attempt, Misu returned.

“Your majesty I have-” She quickly stopped, realizing you weren’t alone. “Apologies, your majesty, I didn’t realize-”

“What do you have there?”

Hendery held his hand out and Misu handed over the list of kitchen staff. He looked it over with a chuckle.

“You’re really going to look into this?”

“You said I could while I recover, or in your words, entertain myself.”

“I see, but you do realize this is pointless.”

“What?”

“We eat the same things everyday, my love. Even if we aren’t together. The food we have is cooked in the same pots and pans. If the food has been poisoned in the process of being made, then I would have been affected too. I’m fine so-”

“It was a targeted attack… which means someone added something to the food after it was prepared.”

“Like yourself.”

“Or the poison was meant for you and it was added to the wrong plate.”

“…”

“Are you starting to believe me?”

“I’m not sure… Misu, come here.”

“Huh? Me?”

“Now.”

    Misu stepped closer to Hendery, flustered and shy. He held his hand out and she eventually understood to give him her arm. She did so and he pulled her close, checking her pulse.

“Look at me and tell me, did my queen ask you to do anything bad?”

“You can’t be-”

“I’m not speaking to you right now, my love.” Hendery grabbed Misu’s chin and had her meet his eyes. “Did you do anything bad?”

“Nu… no, your majesty.”

“My queen didn’t ask you to do anything vile?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“I see. You may go.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

    Misu hurried out of the room, and you made a note to check on her later. You were certainly annoyed now.

“That was unnecessary. Did you even get your answer?”

“I’m not certain… regardless, the royal physician informed me they could not identify the poison as your food has already been disposed of.”

“You-”

“Are on your own for this. I don’t believe anyone would try to hurt you, or me, but if you’re going to blame anyone you better have solid proof.”

“Fine, but let’s make one thing clear. Just as you say you wouldn’t try to kill me, I won’t be leaving of my own will. I’m going to take my kingdom back, and watch you burn.”

Hendery scoffed. “I’ll look forward to that. Now eat. I oversaw the whole process so I assure you nothing is wrong.”

“…”

“Or do I have to feed you myself?”

    You were still upset with him, practically always, but you ate with him. If he said it wasn’t poisoned, you could believe that from his twisted love. 

“See, that wasn’t bad was it. Take your medication and rest.”

“You said you oversaw this being cooked, right?”

“Yes, my love.”

“What happened when it was finished?”

“Hm… our plates were prepared and placed on a tray. From there the servants grabbed them and followed me to my chambers.”

“The servants were on standby?”

“Yes.”

“Are they always like that?”

“I can’t say. I was only there today.”

“And they grab the trays as soon as the food is ready?”

“It seems so, why?”

“Then if something was added to the food, it was done once it left the kitchen, and before reaching me.”

“You’re very cute with your investigation. So don’t cause trouble.”

“No promises.”

“Of course.”

    Hendery kissed your head and excused himself. A moment later the servants came in to take the dishes, Misu checking over you.

“Misu.”

“Yes, your majesty?”

“Are you alright? He shouldn’t have-”

“I’m alright, your majesty. I was a bit caught off guard by the request, but I did not lie.”

“I still must apologize, you shouldn’t be treated that way.”

“I’m okay, just worried about you.”

“I must also apologize, as I need you to do something else for me.”

“How can I help you, your majesty?”

“You went through the trouble of getting the kitchen staff list, but it seems I’ve miscalculated.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s no way of knowing what kind of poison was used on me, but it wasn’t the food itself that harmed me. Therefore the kitchen staff is most likely not the culprit, meaning it’s another servant.”

“I don’t believe I follow.”

“The kitchen is already so busy as it is, so it’s highly unlikely one of them did something… do you think you could figure out what servants came in contact, or near my food the other day. I know most of the have certain roles and routines to follow. I want the names of those, and maybe ask around to see if anyone saw anything odd.”

“Ah, I will do my best, your majesty.”

“Thank you.”

    With that set up you took your medicine and laid down to rest. The next time you opened your eyes, you realized it was dark out, and you weren’t alone. You found yourself wrapped up in Hendery’s arms, his warmth keeping you comfortable and calm. Although upon realizing this you squirmed out of his grasp, waking him up in the process.

“Are you alright, my love? Do you-”

“Don’t touch me.”

Hendery sighed. “It’s late, lay back down and sleep.”

“Not with you.”

“I said I would be keeping a close eye on you. That includes the night.”

“We don’t have to sleep in the same bed.”

“But we do.” Hendery pulled you back down. “And I’ve missed you.”

“I haven’t.”

“Lies, my love, and you know it.”

    He cuddled you, spooning you and holding you close. He was still warm, just as before. You hated how your thoughts drifted to the past. The nights like this, as he’d drown you in soft kisses to help you sleep. His words of love slowly turned to whispers and fading to mumbles as he fell asleep. You thought he was everything, and now you just felt so alone.

“You really think I tried to kill myself?”

“Who would dare harm you?”

“Everyone has secrets.”

“But not just anyone would be bold enough to poison the queen. If you really think someone did that, you can’t just look for evidence, you need to know why.”

“Add this to the list of reasons you’re a terrible husband.”

“What else is on that list?”

“Your lies, your manipulation, you-”

“I did what was best for you.”

“I disagree.”

“So you’d prefer an arranged marriage with a man you didn’t know? Simply for power? I don’t think I could allow that.”

“It was not your job to look after me.”

“But I’ve done so.”

“If that was true you’d look for who tried to kill me. Before they try again.”

“You get lucky once, and they blew it. I won’t allow them another chance, even if that someone is you.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you can rest easy in my arms.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Yes you can. Like I said, I won’t let anyone harm you. I will always love you, no matter what.”

    You didn’t want to sleep, but your illness, and his warmth just made it so easy to drift off. Even if your mind was logical and understanding of your displeasure for your husband, your body and heart remembered him well, and could only accept him. When morning came you were still in his arms, snuggled against him like old times. The realization quickly made you move away. It seemed that Hendery had been awake for a while, watching you sleep and waiting for you to wake. He had you stay in bed as he went to oversee breakfast, returning later.

    You felt better, but not entirely back to your old self. So you remained in bed and carried out your investigation from there. You’d take your medicine, and Hendery always returned to share your meals, assuring you each and every time the food was safe. Misu got you the list you had requested, along with some information to narrow down the suspects. You needed to speak with each of these people, to get a better idea as to whether or not they were guilty. You would move down to the main hall to conduct these interviews, taking notes of anything you felt odd.

“Still entertaining yourself I see.”

“What do you want?”

    Hendery found you in the main hall, bringing over a chair to sit at your side, peeking at your notes. He still found what you were doing amusing.

“Any suspects?”

“Not particularly. Everyone seems to be hiding something, not surprising as the castle is huge, but no one seems that nervous around me.” You sighed. “I got nothing.”

“Just-”

“Don’t make a comment about me trying to frame someone.”

“I was going to say, just take a break. I’m sure something will come to mind once you look at it with a clear head.”

“Are you gonna help?”

“This seems to be your personal mission. I don’t want to interfere.”

“Of course not.”

    It took you two days to get through your list, and you felt like you had gotten nowhere. To add to the despair, you weren’t really feeling better. You could get out of bed and go about your day, but you’d get headaches and fatigue quite fast. If anything, it told you that whatever was used on you had lasting effects, so maybe the assassin hadn’t entirely failed.

“Your majesty, the bath is ready.”

“Thank you, Misu.”

    The warm water did well to sooth you and make you feel better despite everything. You felt you hadn’t gotten anywhere with your investigation, and had no idea what to do next. Still, for now you should rest and try again later. You closed your eyes and let yourself feel the warm water. It was really relaxing, and the aroma in the room was soothing as well. You could feel yourself falling asleep and sinking into the water. A half baked thought surfaced, making you aware of the problem, but you didn’t have the strength to do anything.

    Slowly the water rose until you were completely under it. You felt like you were floating, and it was quite peaceful, until you ran out of oxygen. You couldn’t do anything to call for help, merely trying to reach up to the surface, but your vision was already going black. You thought this might be it, starting to accept that when your vision was suddenly white and you were inhaling a mixture of water and air. You coughed up the water, realizing you had surfaced, shaking from the shock.

“I got you, I got you.”

    It took a moment to realize Hendery was holding you, Misu making a fuss about him getting wet and also helping to get you out of the water. She handed Hendery a towel and he wrapped you up with it, trying to dry you off. He ordered Misu to get the physician, staying with you and trying to warm you up.

“You’re alright, you’re alright.”

“I… I…”

“Sh, don’t speak, just breath, nice and easy. You’re okay.”

    You were still coughing up some water, trying to regain your breath and sense. Hendery merely held you tight, gently rocking you and assuring you were alright. You had no idea what happened to you, besides the fact the assassin had made another move.

“Hendery…”

“You’re alright, my love.”

“Do you still… think it was… me…”

“I never did.”

“Huh?”

“Sh, just focus on your recovery, you don’t have to worry about anything else.”

    You had questions, but you couldn’t quite articulate them. Once you were good to move, Hendery picked you up and took you to his chambers, setting you down on the bed, not caring if you were still soaked. He got another towel to help dry you up properly, finding some of your clothes to dress you and then wrapping you up in a blanket. You were still shaking, not from the water but just everything. Your thoughts led to fear, and you didn’t feel safe with anyone besides Hendery, the only person you could trust wouldn’t do anything. You didn’t even want to see the physician, and Hendery had to tell them to leave.

“My love, you need to-”

“No… no one…”

“I need to be certain you’re alright.”

“You do it…”

“You trust me? I thought you hated me?”

“You’re… you’re the only one… I can trust… right now…”

“Then please give me a moment to figure out what I need to look for.”

“Okay…”

    You pulled the blanket around you tighter once Hendery left, quietly counting to yourself to distract yourself until he returned. He did best to check all your vitals and make sure nothing was wrong.

“What happened?”

“I… I don’t know… I was fine… then tired… and… and…”

“That’s enough. I’ll have this looked into and find the culprit.”

“So you… you believe me…”

“Of course. I just need more evidence.”

“Then… you… used me… as bait…”

“The first time was too clean. There was barely any evidence left behind. I would have lost you if I hadn’t been so fortunate.”

“Why… why…”

“Sh, don’t concern yourself. I’ll handle everything. Here, I went down to prepare you some tea so you can sleep.”

“You won’t leave… right…”

“No. I will stay right here, my love.”

    Hendery helped you with the tea, making sure you had every last drop before laying you down. He tucked you in under the covers, lying down at your side. You curled up, still thinking about what happened. The first incident you had no idea what was happening, but this time around, you could feel your life slipping away. Hendery could see the gears turning in your head, reaching over to gently pet you.

“You’re okay, everything’s okay, no one’s going to hurt you.”

“You’ll find… who did this…”

“I will, I promise.”

    Even if you didn’t really want to sleep, the tea and your own exhaustion was starting to wear you down. You slowly drifted off to sleep, only able to rest for a bit before waking up in a  fright. You thought you would be alone, but Hendery was right at your side, pulling you into his arms. He gently rocked you in his arms while rubbing your back, once again assuring you things were alright.

“I see the tea didn’t work for long.”

“I’m fine…”

“I know, I know.”

“I don’t think I can sleep…”

“That’s alright, we can just stay up together.”

“Okay…”

    It was getting dark out, but you didn’t feel tired. Hendery asked for some books, and his own things to be brought to his chambers. You both stayed on the bed, quietly providing each other company. Even if you were on high alert, you didn’t expect Hendery to stay awake for long, eventually finding him asleep on the bed. You watched him for a moment, your hand unconsciously reaching over to run your fingers through his hair. You quickly stopped yourself when you realized what you were doing.

    A near death experience, your second, should not be a time to rekindle old feelings. Let alone considering all he had done to become king and take your kingdom from you. He wasn’t someone to forgive. You were still decent, cleaning up and making sure he could rest comfortably. You did your best not to wake him, just remaining at his side and trying to read, your thoughts drifting off to what happened. Before you knew it the sun had risen, and a new day had begun. You were staring out the window and you didn’t realize Hendery waking up.

“My love…”

“You’re awake.”

“Did you not sleep?”

“I couldn’t.”

“My apologies, you should have woken me.”

“One of us should rest.”

“I suppose. You must be hungry, I’ll have breakfast prepared.”

“I’m not hungry…”

“I know that’s a lie. You may have no appetite but your body needs to remain healthy.”

“…”

“Then do you want to wrap this up?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

    Hendery helped you dress in something comfortable, disregarding usual clothing traditions, and going down to the main hall with you. He had yet to tell you anything, but you were just waiting quietly. If he was going to tell you something he should have done it in his chambers where you had privacy, so this did concern you. Although it was just the two of you as he had the guards leave the room.

“You asked to see me, your majesty.”

    Misu quietly entered the room, bowing to both of you after a slight pause. When she entered you looked over at Hendery, but he just had an amused look in his eyes.

“Why did you do it?”

“Pardon… I don’t-”

“What poison did you use?”

“Wa… what?”

“Answer me.”

“Hendery.” You hissed. “What are you-”

“My love, you are quite beautifully naive. There is only one person who could hurt you, but you never even considered the possibility because you trust them so much.”

“No, no, you-”

“You figured out it couldn’t be the actual kitchen staff, so it had to be someone who had access to your food after it was prepared. None of the servants you spoke to raised any concern, and none would have a reason to harm you.”

“And why would Misu? She has been my faithful servant since I was a child. Why would she-”

“Why indeed, that’s what I would like to know.”

“You can’t-”

“Misu is the one who’s supposed to try the food to make sure it’s safe, isn’t that right, my love?”

“I…”

“If you had finished your plate you would have surely passed, and it wasn’t Misu who found you, was it?”

“No…”

“Everyone has their secrets as you said, and when I interrogated Misu her heart was racing. Not because of my questions, but something else. Do you care to explain yourself?”

“Your majesty, I don’t-”

“Do not lie to me!” Hendery rose to his feet. “You are lucky to be breathing right now. I should have struck you down already, but you are alive right now to explain yourself. So tell me, why did you dare to harm my queen!”

    Misu was at a loss for words, looking between you and Hendery. You weren’t sure what to believe, trying to make sense of all the pieces Hendery had just dropped in your lap. Although you didn’t have to ponder for long as Misu fell to her news, bowing down.

“How could I not do something, your majesty!”

“Mi… Misu… what…”

“I do not know the reason why the queen has grown to hate you, but I cannot stand it!”

“Ah… do you… have feelings for me?” Hendery questioned. “Are your actions some declaration of love?”

“She does not love or cherish you, it’s unfair for you to suffer in such a manner.”

    Hendery chuckled, slowly walking over to Misu. He knelt down, grabbing her chin so their eyes would meet.

“I can see love in your eyes. I always thought that was admiration, I am your king after all, but this is something much deeper. You’d do anything for me, huh? Even kill.”

“Your-”

“It’s a shame. You could have been useful, but you chose to harm my queen, and I cannot allow you to live any longer.”

“Your majesty, please.” Misu begged. “I did poison the queen, but the incident with the bath was not my doing, I am not-”

    Hendery was no longer listening, returning to his throne and grabbing his sword. Your eyes went wide, having not realized he would be taking matters into his own hands like this. You thought to stop him, but when you stood, the shock of everything cause you to collapse.

“Hendery-”

    You closed your eyes before you saw anything that could never be unseen. You were shaking again, scared to open your eyes. You heard the sword clatter to the ground, a presence slowly approaching. You felt Hendery caress your cheek.

“Look at me, my love.”

    You slowly opened your eyes, locking your gaze with his. You didn’t want to see anything else. He had a bit of blood on his face, but he seemed content.

“Are you alright?”

“I… I…”

“You don’t have to worry anymore. I took care of everything, like I promised.”

“But… but…” Misu’s last words started to hit you. “She said she didn’t… the bath… if she…”

“That’s nothing to worry about. She was just saying whatever she could to save herself, but her fate was sealed the second she hurt you.”

“Did you… did you have something to do with-”

“Sh, I know this was probably a lot for you, but I needed you to know that you’re safe. I’ll get you a new maid, and make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”

“I… Hendery…”

“It’s okay, everything’s okay now, my love. You’re safe.”

“… am I…”

“Of course, you have me, and that’s all you need.”

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

only ones who know

Summary: fairy tales portray love as a saviour, the key to escaping a miserable place. Stuck in the Red Room, the reader wants to try it.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, aroace!reader

Word Count: 1994

Warnings: Breakup, internalised aphobia from the reader, Natasha’s a little bit mean in the middle

A/N: omg I suck at summaries, but uhh, aroace reader who idealises a romantic relationship before they realise they’re aroace. (Kind of loveless aroace too). And based on ‘Only Ones Who Know’ by Arctic Monkeys

—————————————————

In a foreign place, the saving grace was the feeling That it was a heart that he was stealing

Widows don’t remember their lives before the Red Room; that was a rule. Your parents gave you up; the Red Room saved you. You’d heard that line countless times. 

But you had dreams. 

Whether they were memories or imagination, you couldn’t tell, but it was nicer to believe in the former. To believe you had kind parents, parents who would tell you a story as they tucked you in every night; a story of their own imagination. In your dreams, their stories centred around love and troubles; no matter the protagonist’s situation, finding their true love brightened their life, gave them hope, and made life worth living. 

The Red Room was worse than any situation your parents could think of, but you hoped the stories held some truth. Perhaps it could be your saving grace.

Oh, he was ready to impress and the fierce excitement.

Natasha Romanoff. The most ruthless Widow and yet also the most caring girl in the Red Room. She remembered her mother’s advice and shared it with everyone: “don’t lose your heart.” You told her your dreams in return.

Natasha was the one to ask you out, and that was an offer you couldn’t refuse. When she set up a date, the excitement dropped to your stomach; you were so eager to impress her… to show her why you were dating. It was nerve-wracking. 

 The eyes are bright; he couldn't wait to get away. And I bet that Juliet was just the icing on the cake.

Love was not the magical cure your parents’ stories had portrayed it as. Neither hope nor love could save you from the Red Room. The bright eyes of a new lover diminished rapidly, pain and punishments wearing you down. The relationship had been perfect; Natasha had been perfect. It just didn’t live up to expectations. You realised it never could.

Years passed before hope returned to your eyes; it was brought about by one thing only: the plan to get away. Planning with Natasha was just the icing on the cake. You would finally be free of the Red Room and able to live a free life with your partner of so long. So why did the second half fill you with so much dread?

Make no mistake, no And even if somehow we could have Shown you the place you wanted Well, I'm sure you could have Made it that bit better on your own.

“You used me.” Natasha’s scathing reply stung you, but you understood the justification. 

“I didn’t-”

“We dated for years, we made plans, I helped you escape, and now you’re saying it’s not love?”

Thoughts flurried in your mind, all too loud in your head, and her voice too loud in your ears. After a lifetime in the Red Room, you thought you had become desensitised to being yelled at, it happened daily, but you never expected it from her. Why had you said anything? She was right, and you did care for her, but was it love? You should have kept quiet; life with her would have been all you’d dreamt of, but something would have always felt off.

“I’ve shown you everything you ever wanted. Love, a relationship, the outside world? I loved you, Y/N. I still love you. But no, I’m sure you can make it that bit better on your own.”

Natasha was always the one constant in your life, but you were losing her. You could have toughed it up, but you hadn’t, and now the pain was your fault. You deserved to feel it. Everything was too much right now; your heart was pounding and breaking; your thoughts couldn’t clear enough to speak. You didn’t even notice your vision blurring until you blinked and the weight of a tear clung to your face, trying to resist the inevitable pull of gravity. 

“Natasha-”

“-I don’t even want some half-hearted explanation, Y/N. I don’t want to see your tears when I’m the one who was fooled into thinking this was something.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she told you bluntly, emotionlessly, “but we’re the only ones who know what it was like. Once I’m over this, I’ll stay in touch.”

And I bet she told a million people that she'd stay in touch Well, all the little promises, they don't mean much

That was five years ago, and you hadn’t heard a word from her since. Your life had moved on, just as you imagined hers had. You took to the small town life, a little village in rural Ireland. You had a farm and a dog, you knew your neighbours. Yet you still kept to yourself.

The Red Room felt like another world; it still haunted you, but it was too far removed from the life you now led. It was peaceful, nothing like the life you had dreamed of. 

You had no idea what Natasha’s life was like; her final words rang in your ears whenever you thought of her, dissuading you from finding a way to contact her. Then she appeared on TV, saving the world, and you were thrust right back to the nights in the Red Room; two children planning their escape.

The Red Room had forced both of you to grow up, to act mature. You saw now that it was no substitute for true maturity. When you fought and when you separated, you had still just been children. You’d had no clue about the world. You had grown up since, and it was time to get back in contact. 

 When there's memories to be made And I hope you're holding hands by New Year's Eve.

Natasha had no public contact information; the only way to reach her would be through the Avengers or SHIELD. This felt too private to do that. However, you were raised to be a spy, which had its upsides, letting you find Natasha’s number with some effort. 

She asked to meet you within minutes of you sending a message, even sending a private plane so your dog could accompany you. 

Natasha was there to greet you upon landing; she seemed happier now, more relaxed than you’d ever seen. She smiled at you, a sign that all was forgiven; she had moved on. You smiled back. It was nice to see her, but undoubtedly awkward; what was there to say after all this time?

In years gone, you wouldn’t even have to say anything. There would be no question of whether you should greet Natasha with a hug or a wave or nothing. You both used to know the right thing to do, but those days were the past; memories had been made in between; new years had passed with the two of you apart. 

 They made it far too easy to believe That true romance can't be achieved these days

Romance had never been something you were looking for, not since Natasha. Others talked of crushes and attraction; it was nothing you could relate to. You wondered if it was the Red Room upbringing; they had seen love as a weakness, weeding out anyone who showed it. 

You believed you hid it too well, a weed of love masquerading as a flower to get by, but perhaps that had never been the case. 

They had let you believe it, but had you ever felt love? Not within your memory. The instructors had allowed you to live then, for you were already a product of their training. Everything you had strived for, all the work you had done to be free, and yet the Red Room still took this part of you. 

Every Widow would be like this, you assumed. The Red Room made it far too easy to believe that true romance can’t be achieved. But, as always, Natasha would be the one to prove them wrong. 

You found out she had a girlfriend when said woman approached to hug Natasha from behind, murmuring things you could barely hear into the woman’s ear; you weren’t sure you wanted to listen in either. They seemed like natural lovers, the presence of the other calming them down; it had never been like that with you and Natasha. 

 And even if somehow we could have Shown you the place you wanted Well, I'm sure you could have Made it that bit better on your own

You never officially joined the Avengers, choosing to remain at your farm, but they still texted you, and you got on with them. Sometimes you visited them, attending a few of Tony’s big parties where they would try to set you up with whoever they could find, hoping to find your ‘type’. You hoped they could find someone too, just to prove you could escape the Red Room’s grasp, but you couldn’t feel a thing for any of your ‘dates’. 

Their set-ups would only make you feel worse, so you stopped attending the parties. Instead, you took missions if they were near you; you could see your friends in a setting where they couldn’t suggest any dates.

On one of those missions, you met a familiar face, Yelena. She was difficult to subdue, but you couldn’t harm her, and you knew Natasha would want to see her. You worked with Tony to trap her, and while you attempted to talk her out of the Red Room conditioning, Tony was on a call with Bruce, ensuring an antidote would be ready upon arrival. 

Natasha rushed aboard the quinjet when you landed, but her sister showed no sign of recognising her,  not until Bruce arrived to jab a syringe into the blonde. 

Even after that, it took weeks to catch Yelena up on the present day; the mind control took chunks of her memory that could never be filled in, and her last memory of you and Natasha was from your final date, where you snuck both sisters to the roof with you to see the stars. 

—

Within a few months, Yelena had integrated into the team and, just as they had with you, they soon began to recommend friends for Yelena to date. 

However, unlike you, Yelena had a term to describe herself, and she did not hesitate to use it: Aromantic Asexual. 

When she explained the meaning, Tony jokingly commented on how similar it sounded to you, yet he didn’t quite make the connection. Natasha and Yelena, however, saw the look of realisation wash over your features and found you later to talk it over. 

They came to you in the library, where you’d isolated yourself to think it out and to do more research; the terms fit your experience, but it was impossible to know if they were accurate or just a product of the Red Room. 

The sisters came together; they sat with you as you talked, letting you explain every related thought you’d had. “It’s up to you to determine your identity,” Yelena said, “but my experiences are similar, and even if the lack of attraction is due to our upbringing, we still don’t feel it, and it’s still valid.” 

Silence fell over the room. Until you broke it.

“I think that’s me. I’m not attracted to anybody, and I don’t want to be. Life has been much nicer on my own.”

Natasha and Yelena expressed their pride in you acknowledging it. Yelena offered to be there for you if you had any further questions before she left, leaving you and Natasha alone. 

“Even if I could have shown you the place you really wanted…well, you could have made it a bit better on your own.” She smiled, standing up and offering you a hand to stand with her. The echo of her parting words had brought you guilt for years, but now, they had a new meaning.

You are the only ones who know.

[starsscribble]

Broken Doll

Summary: Steve and Bucky have to now live with the consequences after they have broken you. Broken. That’s what you were. That’s what they wanted. Or at least that’s what they thought. Because here you are now. There’s no fighting. No hateful looks. No spiteful words. You are obedient. Following every command without question. You don’t even do anything when they are gone. Just sit in your room staring out the barred window. They left the doors unlocked. Keys to one of the cars. But you don’t try to leave anymore. You're resigned to this life you were forced into. You only move to use the bathroom. Maybe even to cook. But it’s loveless. It’s lifeless. Not like when you lived at the compound. There is no music. No cute little dance. No off-key singing. It’s just nothing. You’re a perfect doll. The doll of their making and they hate it.

Returning home late at night Bucky stays in the living room as Steve goes to your room. He doesn't knock. Just gently push open the door. You’re still awake. Still sitting on your window bench. Eyes fixed on the raindrops running down the glass pane.

“Y/n?” Steve calls, making you turn around. You stand. In the early days, you used to throw things at him and Bucky. Forcing them to clear the room out of anything you could throw. Now the room is filled with things once more. In the hopes that you will interact with them. Like the Switch. You loved video games when in the compound. You used to play with Peter in the common area all the time. But the console is still on your dresser. The box hasn’t even been touched. He feels your lips pressed against him. Blue eyes looking down at you. You forced a smile as you welcomed him back home. He sighs. He can’t stop comparing you to before.

“Come with me.” He says turning away from you. He doesn’t see the fear in your eyes. Worried that you upset him somehow. Scared that you will be thrown into the basement once more. But you follow him into the living room where Bucky is.

The brunette-haired man is holding something in his arms. Steve clears his throat making Bucky look away from whatever is there. He smiles at you as he moves closer.

“We got you something. Something that you will love, doll.” At least they hope. Both men watch you as Bucky pulls out the white kitten from his jacket. You used to talk about how you loved cats. How you befriended all the strays wherever you went. You wanted to get a cat when you lived at the compound. You begged Tony. For a whole year. But he never once gave you the ok. Bucky gently hands you the kitten. They watch as you stroke its white damp fur. For a second they can see your old light shining in your eyes. But all too quickly you snuff it out. Handing the kitten back to Bucky you speak.

“You can take it to the shelter tomorrow. A young kitten like that will find a home in no time.” You turn away from them and head to the kitchen. “Are you hun-”

“The kitten is staying,” Steve speaks through gritted teeth. Bucky was sure this would work. They were sure it would help give you your spark back. You stop and turn back to both of them.

“If that is what you want Steve. Who am I to argue?” Y/n! He wants to scream. You are Y/n. You argue with him all the time. Or at least you used to. The arguments were not big. Just which cereal brand was better. They were stupid and silly. And he just wanted them back.

“Now are you hungry? I didn’t cook since we have leftovers.”

The cat. Who’s name you had no opinion on. Even when they asked. Almost begged you to name the white furball. Got named Alpine. She seemed to love you. She would meow at your door. You would feed her. Change litter. On some of the rare occasions, the boys caught you petting her. In your room. When she sat in your lap. It was more than what you were doing before. It was a start hopefully in the right direction.

It’s just Bucky at home today. Steve is away on a mission. Alpine was curled up beside him as he scratched her head. He muted the tv when you entered the living room. You have willingly left your room. He hadn’t called you. You were here by choice. Maybe it was because Bucky was always the softer one. He dished out less punishment in the earlier days. Maybe you felt more comfortable near him. He moved over on the couch to give you space as he pats the cushion beside him. You take a seat. Alpine is in the middle; acting as a buffer. Bucky studies you. Your hands pull at the shorts you have on.

“Did I do something?” You ask not looking at him. His brow furrowed. You haven’t done anything wrong. You listened to their every word. So where was this coming from?

“Why do you think that pretty girl?” He brushes some of your hair behind your ear.

“Steve is mad at me. I know.” He sees the tears run down your cheek. “Please!” You beg. Head finally turned to look at him. “Please tell me what I did! So I can fix it. I don’t want Steve mad. I….I…” Your sobbing cuts you off. Bucky reacts. Alpine is forced from her spot as he pulls you into his arms. You did nothing. It was them. They had broken you. Broke you so much. Broken you into so many pieces. That they are trying to put you back together. But they don’t know-how.

“I’m scared.” You cling to him. “Steve is upset. And if I don’t fix whatever I did I’m going in the basement.” Your grip his shirt tight. “I don’t want to go back there, Buck. Please. Please tell me what I did.” Your begging breaks his heart. Gently he pulls you away. Right hand resting on your cheek as he brushes tears away.

“You’ve done nothing wrong. And as for the basement, I won’t let Steve put you back there.” He doesn’t know if you believe him. He doesn’t know what’s on your mind. Not anymore. But you nod. You allow him to wipe your tears away. Allow him to hold you. Rocking you back and forth until all the tears stop. You stay with him. Watching whatever is on. Until dinner where you get up to cook.

Steve comes back a few days later. Bucky had sent you to bed. Even after he reassured you multiple times you still worry. Scared that when Steve got back you would be punished. Bucky greeted his lover at the door. They talk. About the mission. About the team. About how they had finally marked you as dead. It had been two years and the Avengers finally gave up your search. It should have made Bucky smile. No one could take you from them but a frown stayed on his face. Steve looked towards his partner.

“What’s wrong?” He asked sitting his boots to the side of the couch to be put up later. Bucky takes a breath. He doesn’t want to fight with Steve. But he also wants to know why you think he was upset.

“Did you say anything to Y/n before you left?” He watches as the blonde thinks back on their last interaction. Nothing stuck out. He told you that he loved you. That he would miss you. Kissed you on the head before he left. But that wasn’t what Bucky was talking about. And he knew it. So he shook his head. The brunette nods. A sigh leaving his mouth as he sits to face Steve.

“For some reason, Y/n thought you were upset at her. That she had done something wrong.”

“She hasn’t!” Steve exclaims. Bucky nodded.

“I know. But Steve. She’s…” He looks away from the blonde. She’s broken. He wants to say. But Steve already knows that. “She’s sensitive to changes. It could have been your tone of voice. Or body language.” The blonde groans.

“She never used to be like this. She-”

“She used to be whole.” Steve simply nods in agreement. He couldn’t be mad at you. You learned to predict their moods. Try and make them happy to lessen the damage done to you. It was on them. Not you.

[lovelyrocker]

Staying’s Worse Than Leaving

~ RPF

~ Charmie

~ Timothée x Armie

~ Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, doubt

~ Word Count: 818

Tears fell from Armie’s eyes as he packed his things in his suitcase. His wife of 10 years, Liz, walked into the room and saw him. She paused with confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you last night I couldn’t do this anymore, Liz.” Armie told her, wiping his face.

“You’re kidding, right?!”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” He glared at her.

“You are really gonna throw away 10 years, Armie?”

“No, I’m throwing away constant arguing, lying, cheating, and toxicity.” He zipped his bag. 

“That’s just us. It’s how we are.”

“And we are toxic together.”

Liz scoffs. “If you walk out on this family, you are a pussy.” She tells him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I am not walking on this family; I'm walking out on you.” He clarifies. 

“So, all of the couples counseling was for nothing?!” She throws her hands up in disgust.

“Oh, come on. Liz! Therapy was a joke! We both stopped loving each other a long time ago!”

“So that’s it?! You’re just gonna leave?”

“Yeah, because the kids don’t need to hear us arguing every other day. The bad outweighs the good. We don’t have enough good days in between the bad ones.”

“You are such a fucking prick!” Liz snaps. “This is about your little fuck toy, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah right! I’m not stupid, Armie! I know every time you take off you are with him!”

“So why do you want to be with someone who is clearly cheating on you?! It’s not because you love me!” He spreads his arms in emphasis. “You cannot stand me most of the time. I walk into a room, and you roll your eyes in disgust! We never touch or kiss or anything unless we are both half drunk! Do you think that’s good for the kids to see?!”

“So, you think it’s better for them to see their daddy leave their mom for someone else? For a man?!”

“I am not leaving you for him!” He tells her, demanding her attention. “We aren’t even seeing one another!”

“Oh.” She said, raising her brow then a patronizing laugh. “So, this is him giving you an ultimatum. Leave me or he walks.”

“No!” Armie shouted in frustration. “That’s not what this is!” He turned, facing her. “He did point out that I’m treating him unfairly, though.” His voice lowered. “He deserves better than only half of a person. It made me realize that I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t want my kids growing up thinking that it's okay to be in a loveless marriage where all you and your partner do is argue. I don’t want them to see us getting pissy and annoyed with one another for entering a room and thinking that’s normal.”

“So instead of trying harder you just want to walk?”

“There is nothing left here to fight for!” His frustration was getting the best of him. “There is nothing here that I want!”

“You are such a selfish asshole!” Liz yells in his face.

“No, staying is selfish. Putting the kids and myself through this is selfish. Will it hurt? Yes! Will I second guess the decision? Absolutely. We spent 10 years of our lives together. But I would rather that, then regretting this and resenting you later. I want to be able to look back at our marriage and say it was great but not forever. I don’t want to think about it and have it be one of the worst time periods in my life. And that's exactly what will happen if we keep this going.”

“I’m so sure!” Liz rolled her eyes, turning away.

“If you need to make me the bad guy to make this easier for you, that’s fine. Do what you need to.” He shakes his head. “You think this is gonna eventually get better and it’s not. It’s just gonna get worse. We tried hard but it’s just not working anymore.”

“If you think I’m gonna just forgive you when you come crawling back, you’re wrong.” Liz spits out as she walks out of the room.

Armie grabbed his bag and walked down the hall, pausing at the kid’s bedroom. He pressed a kiss to his son and daughter’s head with tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He knew this was what was best for them, but it didn’t make it any easier.

Armie stood with his bag outside of the door with fresh tears welling in his eyes as he gently knocked. The door opened and Timothee stood there, his mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Can I crash here a few days?” Armie asked in a low voice. “I left Liz and I just need a couch til I figure out my next more.”

Timothee pulled Armie into a tight hug and held him as he sobbed in his arms. 

@ queenvpr  @martinfreemanismyaesthetic 

[infinitefandomimagines]

Thin Ice - Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

WARNINGS: mild angst, cursing, arguing, clingy kuroo cause i think he's adorable, hurt/comfort

-

SUMMARY: after an intense fight with kuroo, you resign to the couch for the night. however, kuroo still needs his nightly dose of cuddles and is determined to get them

-

"Whatever Tetsurou, I'm too tired for this anymore. I'm done." The two of you had been arguing into the late night hours about God knows what at this point. So much had regrettably been said in the past hour that you couldn't even tell who was in the wrong anymore. It was just one thing after the other. Your cheeks were damp with the few tears you'd been unable to hold back and your head was pounding like a drum. You were absolutely drained.

Not that Kuroo was fairing much better, dark bags hung under his blood shot and glossy eyes, causing his face to look a little more hollow than it actually was. If anything, he looked even more exhausted than you were.

It was rare to see him like this. Usually he'd cover up his hurt with a quick joke or comment, but his stressful day at work had eroded away at his walls, leaving him completely vulnerable.

"What do you mean done?" He asked, fully preparing for the worst. Was this it? Were you about to leave him? No. You wouldn't, the two of you always worked things out.

"I mean that I'm done with this argument, I can't do this anymore. I'm going to bed, and I suggest you do the same." You started gathering pillows and blankets from the various pieces of furniture in the living room, setting them up on the couch to form a makeshift bed.

"You're not actually sleeping out here are you? Kitten-"

"Don't call me that, not right now! Just leave me alone Kuroo, I don't want to see you until the morning." You sounded a little harsher than you intended to. But your own stubbornness refused you the chance to take it back.

Kuroo let out a scoff, "Oh so I'm Kuroo now? Whatever Y/N, sleep wherever you want, I don't care." He didn't mean that, not in the slightest, but the need to get in the last word had overcome all sense of logic he had left. So with clenched fists and a tense jaw, he stormed out of the living room before you could utter another word. The slamming door of your shared bedroom finally allowing you the privacy to let loose the flood of tears you'd been holding back.

Unfortunately for you, the close proximity of the living room and master bedroom created by the quaint one story house allowed for the muffled sobs of your boyfriend to reach your ears. Your heart hurt at the though of him curled up all alone on the large mattress, but again, you were too headstrong to do anything about it. Everything was so overwhelming that your body ended up giving out. Your eyes falling shut as you hugged a throw pillow close to your chest.

It was around 2:30 a.m. that you were roused from your slumber by the sound of shuffling feet. Sleepily rubbing at your eyes, you looked up to see a large, dark figure looming at the foot of the couch. You nearly jumped ten feet in the air, your heart rate quickening to an unatural pace. The sharp yelp you let out was followed by the figure flicking on a light, revealing that the figure was in fact your, very exhausted looking, boyfriend.

"Woah, Kitten it's just me!" He stretched out his arms in an attempt to calm you.

"Tetsurou what the fuck? You scared the shit out of me!"

He grimaced, mumbling out an apology. That definitely wasn't his intention.

"What do you want?" You asked sharply.

"I couldn't sleep, not without you." His voice is pleading as he looked at you expectingly.

"Well maybe you forgot, but we're not exactly on cuddling terms right now." You weren't even all that upset anymore, most of your sour emotions fading away with the few hours of sleep you'd gotten. Nonetheless, a few traces of bitter hurt and anger still remained. It was the principle, the fight the two of you had was still unresolved, and being woken up so suddenly didn't exactly help much with your current mood. He really expected you to just come to his beck and call because he "couldn't sleep?"

"Can we just forget about it until the morning? Please, I need you." He sounded a little more desperate this time. Now that you thought about it, he seemed on edge and antsy. He kept shifting his weight from side to side, the backs of his heels lifting up as he did so.

"No, Tetsurou, go to bed. I don't feel like being around you right now. Just give me some space and we can talk in the morning." You dramatically slung your blanket over yourself, making it a point to toss over to your other side, turning your back to Kuroo.

There's an annoyed huff, and suddenly your blanket has been rudely ripped from your body. Before you could protest, a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, hoisting you off the couch and over Kuroo's broad shoulder.

"I didn't want it to come to this but you've forced my hand."

"Kuroo Tetsurou put me down!"

"Sorry Kitten, but I need you, so we're doing this the hard way." It seems as though his defense mechanisms have built themselves back up, as this time his voice holds a more teasing tone to it.

Despite your protests, he carries you back to your shared bedroom, gently tossing you onto the queen sized mattress. You're quick to make your next move to escape, but before you could move more than a few inches, Kuroo plops down on top of you. His chest is pressed up against your torso and he's already nuzzled his face into the side of your neck, pinning you down with the full weight of his body.

"Tetsu, get off!" You squirm under him, grabbing at his back. You hadn't even realized that you'd resorted back to calling him by the nickname he loved so much. But he surely did, his chest warmed as the name rolled off your tongue. He took it as a sign that you weren't really as mad as you were letting on to be. The two of you were okay.

His breath tickles your neck as he let's out an exaggerated sigh. His hands move to either side of your head, giving him the leverage to prop himself up just enough to lift his head while maintaining the ability to hold you down with his weight. His face is now centimeters away from your own, his nose brushing against yours as his hot breath fans your face. Did this smooth mother fucker really brush his teeth before he came to talk to you?

"I'll let you get up if you can tell me why we were even fighting." His voice is low and gravely. He knows he's got you by the way your eyes refuse to meet his, and he can't help the smirk that crawls it's way onto his face.

Based on the way he's looking at you, you're expecting him to spew out some teasing comment, but instead he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. It's sweet and innocent, a contrast to his usual eager and cocky displays of affection.

"I'm really sorry, Kitten." He whispers, and you know it's genuine. "And I should have said it earlier instead of storming off. I don't want us to end up like my parents, going to bed angry and never fixing anything."

There it is. That's why he was acting so desperate when he'd come to wake you up. His parent's rocky and loveless relationship imprinted on him at a young age, showing him everything he wanted to avoid in his own relationship. His worst fear was being unable to break the cycle of heartbreak set by his parents, and your unresolved argument scared him.

You couldn't help but feel a little guilty knowing that you were to blame for the pain he went through tonight. You instinctively reached up to cup his face in an attempt to comfort him, the pad of your thumb gently running over his cheek bone. Any anger or bitterness you'd felt had melted away with his heartfelt apology. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for just a second as he let out a relieved sigh.

"I'm sorry too, Tetsu." He let out a soft hum as your hand glides down to the back of his neck, finger tips scratching at his nape and playing with the soft tufts of hair. "We're okay, I promise."

Kuroo's previous smirk had now melted into a soft lopsided smile. Leaning down, he presses another kiss against your lips, this time a little more confident and eager.

"Okay, now can you get your fat ass up so I can breathe?" You mumbled against his lips. The sudden snarky comment has Kuroo putting back up his signature smirk. A deep chuckle reverberating through his chest. "Are you gonna stay?"

You nod silently and that seems to be enough to convince him.

Although you'd made quiet the fuss about it, you actually miss the pressure and warmth provided by his body as he lazily rolls off of you, now laying on his side. But the warm feeling isn't gone for long, because next thing you know Kuroo's arms have already snaked around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. He's got you pressed flush against him, one arm holding your waist while the other tangles itself in your hair. His chin rests comfortably on top of your head, every now and then tilting it downward to press soft kisses to your hair.

It isn't long before his breathing is already starting to even out, the exhaustion finally catching up to him. The feather light circles you're tracing into his back only speed up the process.

"You're lucky I love you," you joke, but you're sure he gets the hidden message in your words. Although, the response you're waiting for never comes. There's no way he's already asleep, he's definitely toying with you.

Your fingers halt their movements on his back. Impatient with waiting for his response, you dig your nails into his back, just hard enough to get his attention.

"Hmm? I was sleeping, did you say something, Kitten?" You don't miss the subtle taunting that laces it's way into his words. Oh, he's definitely toying with you.

"You are on thin ice Kuroo Tetsurou."

With your ear so close to his chest you hear the soft vibrations of his chuckle. "I love you too, Kitten."

[italiangothicwriteblr]

Friday Kiss Tag Game

Tagged by @aohendo! Thanks for the tag!

Tagging: @rose-bookblood @evethenovicewriter @pluttskutt @lockejhaven @the-void-writes @flowerprose @bloodlessheirbyjacques and @memento-morri-writes (because I think you’ll appreciate this)

Sequel to this

TW for some intense kissing

“I hear you want a divorce.”

Niccolo’s voice betrayed no emotion. His words were cold and detached, like he was conducting a routine business deal.

“This isn’t about what I want.” Enrico’s voice shook as he responded, and he turned away so Niccolo couldn’t see the tears in his eyes. 

Why was Niccolo making this so hard? It’s not like he would suffer--Enrico was the one about to walk down the aisle with a madman, and Niccolo would lose the stain to his reputation that came with being the husband of a traitor. If anything, Enrico was stunned that Niccolo hadn't petitioned for divorce earlier.

“Please. You’re one of the most powerful men in the world. Everything is about what you want. Suppose I’m not good enough now that you’re Imperatore. What exactly persuaded you to accept Nero’s proposal, Your Majesty?”

He spat the honorific like a curse. 

“It’s not you! I didn’t think you’d care! He told me that the Consiglio might like me better if I married an heir, and I figured my life can’t get any worse, so why not? Why are you so upset?” 

All of Enrico’s energy was now being put into not breaking down in front of his soon-to-be former husband.

“Didn’t think I’d...what the actual fuck?! You don’t need him! I can be all of that for you! Wouldn’t you rather have the heir to the oldest house? I was Leandro’s Rex for a decade, surely I could garner you more respect than a universally hated man, despised by everyone except himself!”

Enrico knew all of that, of course he did. But he couldn’t bear the idea of Niccolo coming back to him for the sake of politics. He would rather spend the rest of his life in a loveless union with a man he despised, than to have the love of his life with him out of duty.

“I...It’s not...” Enrico managed to stammer out, before losing the battle with his emotions and starting to weep.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell,” Niccolo said, momentarily forgetting his heartbreak and anger to wipe the tears from Enrico’s face.

As embarrassed as he was to be crying, Enrico wasn’t eager to stop. Not if his tears meant Niccolo would touch him. He couldn’t help but savor their last moments together.

Once he’d calmed down, Enrico said: “Sorry about that.”

“No need to be,” Niccolo appeared to be considering something. He had the furrow in his eyebrow that usually indicated he was plotting a genius political strategy or military tactic.

Before Enrico could think anymore, he was being tugged into a bruising kiss.

As shocked as he was, he responded immediately, wrapping his arms around Niccolo’s neck and kissing him back with equal fervor. Even after so much time apart, they still fit together so easily.

Enrico felt himself being pressed against the wall, as Niccolo moved from his mouth to his neck.

When they finally came up for air, foreheads still pressed together, Niccolo whispered: “If this is about love, tell me. If you want him, I’ll let you go.”

“Of course I don’t! It’s only ever been you for me. I won’t marry him if you’re upset enough that you felt the need to do this.”

Enrico might not understand Niccolo’s opposition, but he knew he would do anything to make him happy. He just wanted to stop hurting the people he loved.

“You still don’t get it, do you? I love you! I’ve been off in the country pining for you like a lovesick fool, and you get engaged to my enemy without even asking for a divorce in person! Of course I’m upset! I know I’m humiliating myself by coming here, I just needed to see you, see if this is really what you want.”

“None of this is what I want! You think I wanted this crown? A constant reminder of my biggest failure? No, but I’m stuck with it anyway!” Enrico finally lost his temper.

“I thought,” Niccolo started, “that if you were in trouble, that if it was this bad, you’d have come to me. I told myself that you had to have done it on purpose. But I should’ve known. You were alone in this snake’s nest, suffering, and I was feeling sorry for myself. I understand if you can’t forgive that, but darling, I always want to be there for you.”

Enrico felt tears welling up in his eyes again at Niccolo’s pronouncement.

“Stay,” was all he could choke out before the sobs started.

Niccolo pulled him into a comforting hug.

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.”

[mountswhore]

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 — mason mount

summary: you’d grown tired of mason putting everything else before you, but he wants you to stay.

notes: requests are open

“Please don’t make me choose.” + “I can be your reason why.”

“I have training today,” Mason grumbled against your skin, holding you tighter as if it would stop him from all responsibilities today. But you just smiled, still half asleep after Mason accidentally waking you up. He’d gotten a text from one of his Chelsea teammates, and a string of profanities had followed, waking you up in pure confusion. 

“Come on, bubs.” You replied, now turning over to cuddle into his chest. “You know you can’t miss training.” And just like that, he was okay with going. You always reminded him how important the things in his life were to him, even in moments of doubt and exhaustion.

But these past few weeks had been weird. He’d have training, come home briefly, before leaving for the night. He’d mumble that he was going out with Dec and some of the other boys, but get home at gone 1am, most of the time drunk. The first few days it was fine, he wanted to have some fun during the rare days off between games, but after a week of him just about kissing your cheek before leaving, it was eating at you.

You began to think you were the reason why he stayed out late every night — was it something you were doing wrong? You didn’t even have the time to confront him, because you’d gone to bed before he came home, and you’d be up for work before he woke up. You’d only catch glimpses of the other as they slept, barely having time for conversation.

The only time you’d had a full conversation, was the argument you’d had with him. He’d gotten home from training, throwing his training gear beside the washing machine and heading upstairs, where you laid in bed with a book. You patiently waited for him to shower and get into bed with you, but he didn’t. He’d gotten dressed up nice, answering to phone to Declan, saying he’d be out in five minutes.

“Where are you going now?” You huffed, your attitude shining through the tone of your voice. Mason just sighed and turned to face you, moving to the bedroom door to exit for the night.

“Out.”

“No shit. But for the third time this week, Mase? It’s Thursday night.”

“Does it fucking matter?” Mason complained, running his hand through his hair and pulling at it gently.

“Yes, it does. Because every time I think we’re going to have some time together, you’re getting ready to leave. It’s been everything but me recently, and I don’t usually mind because you’re a busy man. But I’m getting to the point where you need to choose.” You argued, throwing the book to the side of you, forgetting about the lost page and focused on the shocked expression on Mason’s face.

“Please don’t make me choose.” He hummed quietly, not wanting to argue or ruin his night. You just scoffed and picked up your book, flicking through to find a familiar block of words. Mason had just quietly left, something he’d been doing a lot recently.

But you’d found the perfect time to reconnect with your boyfriend again. Your anniversary was fast approaching, and you were giddy every morning you’d woken up. Putting yourself through long hours of work was worth it, because you’d saved enough to buy him a watch he’d been wanting for months but never bought it for himself.

On the evening of your anniversary, you’d gotten out of work early and given yourself a pamper. His favourite dress, favourite heels he’d bought you, your hair just the way he likes it. And the watch in a small bag beside the meal you’d cooked. And you waited. You knew he wouldn’t be dressed for the meal immediately, he’d have to go and have a wash, but he’d run over his confirmed finishing time of 6. As every half hour had passed, you’d felt the tears sting your waterline. Not only had he not shown up, but he had clearly forgotten. It had gotten to 9pm now, and you were on the couch in your pyjamas with a bottle of wine to accompany you.

The whole bottle was finished when he finally got home at 10.14. He’d smelt the food as he walked in, dying to taste whatever you’d made, but you weren’t there. Just two plates sat at the island, burnt out candles and a wrapped up box between the two plates. He quickly reached for his phone, seeing he had just over 90 minutes before your anniversary was over. He’d completely forgotten, and he couldn’t make an excuse.

He huffed, checking the living room, only to find an empty wine bottle and the tv still playing quietly. The house was dark, eerie even. He’d jogged up the stairs, finally finding your shaking form in your shared wardrobe. You had a suitcase open, throwing your clothes into it carelessly as you sobbed. To him, it was just a missed anniversary. But to you, it was the death of your relationship. Clearly it was going nowhere and there was no reason to stick around.

“Bubs,” Mason spoke, his voice shaking as it raised. He tried to remain firm, but with the thoughts rushing through his head, it was hard to do so, “where are you going?” You ignored him, still shoving clothes into your bag and finally zipping it up. You didn’t know where you were going — friends, family, even your car, anywhere was better than here. In this loveless house.

You finally barged past him, dragging the suitcase downstairs. “Bubs, answer me. Where are you going?”

“I don’t know.” You sighed, shoving your feet into your shoes once your suitcase was safely on the lower floor. “I don’t want to be here anymore, Mase. I can’t be here anymore. Why should I keep doing this to myself?”

He was losing you, it was obvious to him now. All those late nights he’d spent with Dec, Reece, Ben and Kai. Having fun. Whilst you were at home worried sick about him. “Please don’t go, we can talk this out. We can make this work. Just stay here, Y/N.”

Your name was rarely used by him, only pet names were thrown around to get your attention. But by the look on Mason’s face, he was 100% serious. He wasn’t letting you go this easy. You just stared at him, the man who used to make you cereal at 5 in the morning when you didn’t want to get out of bed, the man who would take you on late night drives because you couldn’t sleep, the man who wouldn’t go a day without telling you he loved you. It was different now.

“Why should I stay? There’s no reason for me to stay with you, Mason. We’re barely a couple.” You admitted, pulling the door open. But Mason grabbed your wrist, making you stop in your tracks. You didn’t think you could look at him anymore, you were putty in his hands when he pulled out the puppy eyes.

“I can be your reason why.” He stated, pleading with you to stick around. To give him the chance he so clearly didn’t deserve.

[ichorai]

the devil's queen ; k.yr

pairing ; forest queen!yeri x devil!reader (gender-neutral)

summary ; in which the queen of the forest seeks out the devil’s help after accidentally turning her husband to stone.

themes ; fantasy, slight fluff and angst, royalty au, devil au, magic au, forest au (?), forbidden love au

words ; 4.2k

warnings / includes ; devils obv, mentions of divorce and a loveless marriage, uhm yeri turns her husband into stone, one mention of angels, teasing banter, an absurd amount of description because yeri is gorgeous and i can't help myself, both yeri and reader are little shits, kissy kiss kiss at the end </3

a/n ; my first gg fic :D i'm rlly excited for this one !! i'm literally in love with yeri so i'm so happy to finally post this ! thank you to @doievoir for beta reading <3 also thanks to @subways-stuff and @koocycle for being gay with me :(

masterlist. | milestone celebration.

The stone of the balcony’s railing beneath the forest queen’s fingertips was just slightly cold to the touch, mellowed by the night’s sweet breeze. Her face, dappled by the moon’s gentlest luminescence, bore a somber expression, only managing to mask the panic she truly felt by a thread of her being. Pale was her dress, and paler her skin became as she grew clammy with unease. The sheer, opal chiffon of her skirts grazed the balcony floor with faint kisses in accordance to Yeri’s ceaseless fidgeting. And because of her restless movements, the intricate leaf crown propped atop her temple was now slightly askew, placed awkwardly amongst her perfectly-curled tendrils.

From where you were standing, watching the queen, worry etched into her soft features, you almost felt a shred of pity. The keyword being almost. Devils rarely ever felt remorse.

You took this opportunity to look around the queen’s chambers. After all, it wasn’t every day that you’re summoned by a woman of such importance, much less the queen of the forest herself. Gorgeous vines twisted up marble columns, white flowers scattered across the greenery. Every which way you looked, there were at least five potted plants ranging from minuscule succulents to large ferns longer than your own arm span. Even the bed had a canopy of iridescent petals and glossy leaves.

“You must really enjoy nature,” you quipped, taking slight amusement in the way Yeri jumped at the sound of your voice, spinning around with a hand on her chest. “Looks to be bordering on obsession, actually…”

The queen, having come down from her initial shock, looked upon you with a quizzical eyebrow. “I called you to help me, not to make comments on my lifestyle.” She waved her fingers in the air, conjuring a thick vine that wrapped around her waist as if it were a snake. “Besides, I’m the queen of the forest. It would be more bewildering to find my chamber void of natural elements.”

A toothy grin so wide it made you look sinister graced your lips, and you bowed your head slightly. Yeri, much to her dismay, couldn’t tell if the action was genuine or mocking.

“I like that you feel the need to defend yourself against the devil. Makes me feel somewhat of importance,” you uttered the words with a simple-minded hum, eyes glowing with mirth. “Which brings me to ask… why have you called me here?”

The silence was suffocating as she strode up towards you, an almost defiant look glazing over her irises. She was so close that you could detect a hint of her sweet scent; an intoxicating concoction of apricots and grass and the slight tang of the air just before it rained. A tad too refreshing for your taste, but it suited her well.

On the other hand, Yeri found that you were as warm as a walking fireplace, and smelled as if you had doused yourself in cinnamon and musky cologne. Though it wasn’t necessarily an awful aroma, it was most definitely strong and caught her off guard. Who knew the devil would radiate the odor of a popular dessert spice?

Yeri’s steps slowed down once she was just in front of you, near enough that her soft skirts brushed against your dress pants. You noted the way her breathing seemed to hitch, teeth slightly tugging at the plushness of her bottom lip in hesitancy. What was she waiting for?

And with a deep exhale, she reached somewhere behind you with the speed of lightning, as if she wanted to get this over and done with. Her fingers curled tightly around a fistful of white cloth cloaking a large mass, tugging on it with a mild grunt. You spun on your heel with an arched eyebrow, watching with suppressed curiosity.

As you beheld the sight, expression unfaltering, Yeri buried her face in her hands, practically vibrating in stagnant shame. You wondered if she was crying, but found that her face was dry when she pulled herself away from her palms. Either she was trying too hard to feel the comforting weight of sadness, or she was lying to herself about caring.

It was most likely the latter. The thought brought a smile to your face.

A chiseled statue stood in front of the both of you. Opal in color and sculpted with perfect body proportions, your smile melded into an intrigued frown.

“I know,” Yeri whispered without turning back to look at you. “I’m a monster.”

“Don’t call yourself a monster in front of the devil, it’s unbecoming,” you snorted in contempt. Then, you gestured limply towards the statue. “I don’t even know what this is. Did you call me here to show off an artsy escapade of yours? I’ve got far more important things to do, you know.” ‘Important things’ really meant watching two crows fight over a moldy baguette down in the village streets. You might’ve been the devil, but that didn’t necessarily mean you were busy all the time.

Disdain colored her words as she hissed out, “I turned my husband to stone,” rouge laced her cheekbones as she quickly added on, almost an afterthought, “by accident.”

Oh? You clasped your hands together behind you, rocking back and forth on your heels. Now you were starting to see the resemblance, recalling the forest queen’s marriage to a man whose only facial expression seemed to be stoically indifferent. “My, my,” you crooned glibly, “what an interesting turn of events. Are you sure it was an accident?”

The forest queen clearly didn’t take your teasing lightly.

“I didn’t even know I could,” she said in an icy tone, glancing down at her hands, one still fisted in the coversheet. After a moment’s pause, she spoke up again, turning towards you. “But I need him back.”

A guffaw slipped past you as you wrinkled your nose in distaste. “That’s no fun at all. You want me to bring him back? Your moronic oaf of a husband? I’m sure you could find a new one with the snap of a finger. Besides, it’s better to keep him this way. He seems far more intelligent as stone.”

Having said your fill and satisfied with the fuming look Yeri wore, you spun on your heel, about to head out of the castle and run your other devil errands.

A bright flower of consternation unfurled within her ribcage, and the forest queen found herself hurrying forward, curling her fingers around the wrist of the subject of her torment. Almost immediately, she let go, partly from shock at her own actions, but mostly from the fact that your skin was borderline scalding. You are the devil, after all. Yeri should have been more careful.

“Do you forget who I am?” she hissed nonetheless, glowering at your unturned back, her tone swimming in a pool of severity.

At her question, you whirled around to look upon her in bemusement.

“I’m the queen of the forest!”

You nodded just slightly. “So you’ve mentioned.”

Mouth agape and nose twitching slightly in an attempt to contain her umbrage, she whispered out, almost bristling in hostility, “Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Finally catching on, I see.” You flashed her wink, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning forward. “Let me make one thing clear. You may be a queen, but you are not my queen. I haven’t forgotten who you are to the mortals, but I feel you’ve forgotten who I am.”

A genuinely wounded look found its way sprawled across her soft features. She struggled to find her voice for a minute, before turning her head away to gaze upon the moon in shame.

“What can I do to convince you?”

Though the words were quiet, you could still detect the stubborn tenacity interwoven through the question.

Instead of answering her inquiry, you retaliated with one of your own.

“Did you love him?”

Her face snapped back to you, frozen in incredulity. “What?” she asked, furrowing her perfect brows.

“Did you love him?” you repeated, this time rolling your eyes to the leafy canvas obscuring the ceiling. “You need not lie to me. I’ll know.”

With a shred of hesitancy clinging onto her, she uttered lowly, “No. It was a diplomatic marriage… he’s the crown prince of the ice mountains. And I need him back before anybody notices. You understand why I have to have him back, don’t you? This could cause a war.”

“A little foolish of you to ask a devil to prevent a war, don’t you think? We live for chaos,” you susurrated into her ear, circling her like a predator would their prey. Yeri flushed at your words. “Pray tell, why didn’t you ask an angel? Why come to me?”

She drew herself to her full height, almost as if sizing you up. You grinned at that. What an interesting character she was. “I was ashamed of myself. I didn’t want an angel to know of my mistake. Angels judge, and devils are used to despicable acts far worse than what I did. Of course I had to go with the latter.”

It was silent for a moment, the leaves rustling with the cold breeze. “Smart girl,” you hummed, impressed. Yeri cleared her throat, evidently flustered.

With a flick of your hand, the statue’s marble hue slowly faded away, color returning to the forest queen’s husband. A gasp left her throat, and she scurried across the room, almost tripping over the wisps of her skirt in the process. The prince of the ice mountains fell to the floor just as his feet loosened up, and he looked as if he had woken up from a horrid sleep, a dumbfounded expression masking his usually stoic features.

He looks stupid, you thought to yourself as Yeri knelt down beside him. Why would she choose him of all people?

“Have fun being married to somebody you don’t love,” you called out to the couple.

Yeri glanced upwards, a ‘thank you’ just on the tip of her tongue. But when she looked towards where you had been standing, there was nobody there. The wind whistled in your absence, and everything suddenly felt cold.

The forest was quiet as Yeri stormed through. The leaves stopped whispering, the birds halted their chirps, and the rivers grew muted. She was livid, so much so that small wildflowers the color of winter unconsciously sprouted in her furious trail. There were tear tracks forming rivulets down the apples of her cheeks, but they were long dried. She was too angry to cry now.

You danced your fingers along the bark of the branch you were sitting on, swinging your legs in bemusement as you watched the Queen bask in her fury.

Your landing from tree to ground made naught a sound, but Yeri seemed to sense that you were already there, for her shoulders squared and her chin lifted. Perhaps she wanted to look as if she had at least some semblance of her life put together in front of you. You weren’t quite sure why she bothered; you already knew she was in shambles.

Today she wore a plain sage button dress, the fabric flaring softly at her hips and arms. The skirt reached just below her knees; a considerate choice seeing as she was trudging through mud and foliage of all sorts. A white cloth was tied about her temple, keeping gorgeous locks of dark ebony from falling into her tempestuous eyes. She was a stunningly beautiful woman, and seeing her angry conjured a queer elation within you. What’s gotten her so riled up this time?

With outstretched arms, you beamed at her scowl. “Regretting asking me to free your husband from his stony confines? I did warn you against it, did I not?”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Forgive me for choosing not to trust the devil.”

“You’re a hypocrite,” you said in a sing-song tone. “You chose to trust me the moment you asked me to fix your poor husband. What is it you want from me now? Did you call me to turn him back to stone this time?”

An affronted look colored her already-miffed features a twisted hue. She seemed to relax just slightly when she realized that you were just jesting, as you always were.

“He wants me to move out of the forest. Permanently.” She angled her face away from you so you couldn’t see the turmoil raging within her. It was fruitless, because you saw right through her words. “Says the icy mountains are far better than this infernal place.”

The unexpected sensation of your warm hands on Yeri’s shoulders conjured what felt like an inferno raging within her ribcage. The devil was touching her. Why wasn’t she mad about it?

“Divorce him,” you said, almost nonchalantly. “You don’t love him. Why stay married?”

“I told you,” she shot back in exasperation, trying her damned hardest not to look down at your hands encasing her shoulders, just a thin layer of green fabric separating bare skin to skin contact, “for diplomatic-!”

“Oh, screw diplomacy. You don’t even want to go outside of the forest. What’s the point of staying married to him?” Your words were sharp, a dagger of truth cleaving right through her skull. It was a good point you made, and it made the queen furious to know that you’ve got her beat.

Yeri was starting to think that your ability to constantly put a damper on her mood was a mastered talent. Have you had a lot of experience belittling people? She presumed the answer was yes; the devil didn’t belong only to her, this was undeniably so. Sin was an attractive flavor to mankind. Was it greedy to want the raw form of wrongdoing all to herself?

Plunged into a cavern of her own agitation, she didn’t even notice you releasing her to pace circles around the forest queen. “He doesn’t love you either, just so you know,” you whispered from behind, causing her to startle with a wince, “especially not after that rocky stunt you pulled, hm?”

Something akin to amusement danced in Yeri’s gaze as she turned her head to peer at you. It flickered away just as quickly as it came. “You’re mean,” she said dryly.

“I know, it’s kind of my job.” You rocked back and forth on your heels, leaning against the trunk of a large tree. “So why did you call me back?”

Yeri dithered for just a moment. “I don’t have anybody else to talk to.” With such a shameful statement, you were pleasantly surprised to see how she managed to say it in such a leveled tone.

“And so you came to the devil for mild chit chat?”

She bowed her head. “I did, yes. Do you have an issue with that?”

You shook your head with a slight smile. It was a truthful response; you quite enjoyed studying Yeri’s mannerisms and turmoils.

A stoic expression crossed her elegant visage as she nodded at you, and then proceeded to turn away, striding out of the forest with naught another word more, tendrils of hair fluttering airily with each step.

News of the forest queen’s divorce to the prince of the ice mountains spread quicker than a royal archer’s arrow. Some said she did so in a spectacle of dramatic tears and ring-throwing. Others gossipped that she slipped away into the woods with only a mere note to inform the prince of what was going on. And the most popular story going around was Yeri proclaiming the divorce void of any emotion, ignoring the prince when he dropped to his knees and begged her to stay.

Knowing both parties of the couple, you were sure that all three spin-offs were far from the truth.

Your suspicions were confirmed when Yeri called you back again, this time with a hint of a grin tracing her lips, a startling contrast to the previous two times she’s called you over. The duality of this woman, you thought with a shake of your head.

“What is it this time?” you asked with an annoyed facade, though it was clearly only skin-deep, for the curiosity swimming in your irises betrayed your true stand.

The queen in front of you was wearing a dress of black silk, flowing and cinching in all the right places. A white and canary flower hanging loosely from her ear, a vast juxtaposition from the darkness of her ensemble. She was the true epitome of allure.

“Black to look like you’re mourning to the simple-minded common folk,” you observed, “but the daffodil symbolizes a new, hopeful beginning. You’re not at all upset about your divorce.”

The corners of her carmine lips curled upwards. “Smart devil,” she replied, referencing back to when you had called her just the same. Devils weren’t ones to be flustered, but you supposed that was the closest thing to how you were feeling at the moment. Masking was a true talent of yours, however, because Yeri seemed not to notice at all. “I called you because I’m lonely.”

“It’s one thing after another with you, huh?” Your words lacked any bite, and you found yourself chuckling while threading your fingers through your hair. “Looking for an affair the same day you get divorced isn’t usually customary for humans. I’m not complaining, though,” you mumbled with a roguish grin, stepping closer to her and gently running the tips of your fingers against her forearms. You pointedly ignored the way the saccharine apple aroma she practically dripped of made you dizzy.

She drew a mock gasp at what you were insinuating, placing her frigid palms on your shoulders to push you back in a playful manner.

“So is it me you want or would you like me to brainwash someone to come and take pity on you?”

Dark irises rolled the leafy ceiling of her bedroom. “What if I asked you to stay?” Despite you barking out a laugh, she continued on. “I don’t need somebody else.”

Eyes flashing something dangerous, you drew yourself up to full height. “Don’t jest.”

“I’m not jesting.”

You knew she wasn’t, but you took a step backwards anyways. Much to your astonishment, she boldly rivaled that with her own foot propelling her forwards. Closer, ever so close.

“Why do you want to fraternize with the devil?”

“Why do you keep coming back whenever I call you?” she shot back quickly, leaning forward just as your spine brushed against a poster of her canopy bed. “I’m not giving you anything in return.”

The words had you reeling for some sort of witty comeback, but for the first time in your eons of life, a human had you dumbfounded. Why were you coming back?

“I…” you gaped at her earnest countenance. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” she echoed your words, almost smug.

Quiet unease filled the silence between you, and you narrowed your lids into slits. With but a gentle whistle of wind, the devil dissolved into a mass of shadows and glowing clementine-hued embers, leaving the queen alone in her chambers once more.

When the seasons change, it wasn’t a shift that happened overnight, but a feat that came with the patience of moons. Earth took its time in conversion, as did everything else. Time was a universal language everybody understood; unchangeable, solidary in its flow, ruthless and unforgiving.

Devils were no exception.

It took you time to come back to Yeri. You weren’t very sure how long. The stars shifted and the sun dipped past the horizon countless times while you waited for an answer to a question you never had the courage to ask. Quite pathetic of the devil, wasn’t it?

When the forest queen called for you a fourth time, you were tempted to decline.

But you found yourself teleporting without a second thought, materializing in a haze of dull light by the corner of her cavernous chambers.

Yeri watched from across the room. The beige turtleneck she wore clung to her like a second skin, a sheer corset cinched about her waist, embroidered flowers dancing across the fabric. A grey skirt fluttered with the wind that blew through the doorway to the balcony, singing a song of the forest. Golden jewelry dangled from her neck and ears, glinting sweetly in the fading sunlight. Her curled tresses had little wildflowers woven between the strands, rolling over her shoulders in waves. She was beautiful, and she wasn’t yours.

It took her no time to stride forward, bare feet padding silently across the smooth floors towards you. You didn’t move, standing your ground and eyeing her with indifference.

The grazes of her fingers against your blistering hot cheeks shouldn’t have taken you aback. Your pride was wounded the last time you saw her, and all a devil really had was their pride. Should you be mad at this woman for diminishing you down to a mess of discombobulated emotions and lost purpose? A twisted part of you was proud of her for doing so. Besting a devil at their own game wasn’t quite the everyday act.

Yeri hummed a pleased little sound when you grabbed at her wrist. Not to yank her away, no, but to pull her ever so close, breathing in her earthy scent. The walls of fire you once held up to closely guard your devilish heart, now doused by a simple pale of water. The forest queen did that. And you, quite frankly, were so very afraid of what she’d do with it now that it was hers.

“Took you a while to come back,” she whispered. You looked oh so bewitching in this light, a glimpse of heaven doused with the fits of hell, and Yeri found it hard to concentrate. Especially not with your searing fingers wrapped firmly around her forearm.

“Certainly didn’t take you a while to call,” you snorted, raising a brow at the queen. “You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you?”

Even the flame-lit candles were envious of her radiance when she smiled, for they flickered and warbled at her mischievous beam. “I’m not ashamed to admit so. You look awful, by the way.”

“That’s a lie,” you teased, so close now that your nose brushed against her cheekbone. If an outsider were to walk in now, they would’ve thought the two of you were two lovers intimately dancing to a ghost’s silent song.

“You’re right. I lied. Thought you might enjoy that since you’re the devil, and all.” The queen looked at you with hooded eyes.

A breathy chuckle slipped past your lips. “I enjoyed that very much, yes.”

“I’m going to do something,” she uttered lowly, vague hesitation weaving through her words, “and you’re going to have to promise not to freak out.”

An off-hand sound of acknowledgement rumbled in your throat as the tip of your mouth quirked upwards. “My queen, I’m the devil. Of course I’m going to freak out. I live for chaos.”

Just as you took your time to come back to her, it took Yeri time to unfurl the folds of her heart, baring herself raw and unshielded. She trusted you with her life, and it was probably the most foolish decision she could ever think to make.

Her lips brushed against your jaw first, tentative and testing. Then the kisses trailed to your cheekbones, over to the lids of your fluttered-shut eyes, down to the bridge of your nose. When she melded her lips over yours, you knew you were done for. It was almost natural, how your arms snaked around her midriff, clutching at the threads of her corset with a yearning you’ve never felt before. The hands that cradled your jaw slid in different directions; one went to clutch at your arm in a fruitless attempt to ground herself, and the other gently scratched at the back of your neck, earning a pleased noise from you.

This was so wrong, and that was why it felt so good. If she was the fruit, you were the parasite. If she was the wine, you were the poison. If she was love, you were hatred.

When she pulled away from you with a dazzling smile reserved just for you, you swore the stars shattered and the moon collapsed and the sky broke into two. For this trembling certainly can’t be coming from you! Devils don’t tremble, for crying out loud!

“You called me your queen,” she observed, amused at your playful narrowing of eyes.

“A devil never lies, my queen,” you jested. The laugh she was about to bark out at your witty jab was stolen away from her as you kissed her once more. “I wouldn’t dare bow to somebody with a soul, yet it seems you’ve given me yours. Just what am I to do with you?”

Your words were paused to press a lasting kiss onto her cheek, right below her wide eyes, nervously awaiting your response. Studying her with mirth dancing in your irises, you crooned in acceptance, fondly nudging your nose against her supple cheek. She was yours, and you were hers. A white rose blooming amidst a tumultuous storm.

“And my, my, what a powerful pair we make, my queen.”