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earthtooz · 1 year ago

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x : AVOIDANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: falling for blade was not on your agenda, so naturally you decide to distance yourself. however, the last thing you'd predicted was blade being upset with the sudden space.

warnings: 2.3k wc, FLUFF, ooc!blade probably bc i'm still trying to figure it out, kafka meddles with the two of you, gn!stellaron hunter!reader who has a past lol, NOT PROOFREAD, idiots in love bc i love that trope, bad writing

a/n: thank you to the anon who gave me this idea :D much appreciated, i had a lot of fun with this one when my angstier fics were draining me af. i hope you enjoy, apologies if it's a little low quality, but it's my child <3

when you first joined the team of stellaron hunters, you didn’t expect to get much out of it, especially since the team looked so cold, calculating, mischievous, and unforgiving, greeting you with vicious smiles and muddy eyes. preemptively, you assumed the most you would receive is acquaintanceship.

however, time has proven you wrong, because on the contrary, you have found comfort, friendship, and stability in the form of this mismatched group.

you never expected to find love either.

but you did, and it might be the worst decision your heart has ever made.

“y/n, there you are. kafka and i are thinking about going out to lunch. want to join?” silver wolf’s voice interrupts your train of thought, disrupting your peace in your private spot amongst the gardens.

“oh, hi silver wolf,” you murmur, shutting your book after shoving in a bookmark. “who else is going?”

“kafka asked blade and he agreed.”

the genius hacker doesn’t notice the way you tense upon hearing a certain swordman’s name. instead, you play it cool by opening up your book again, scanning the pages in hopes of ignoring the racing of your heart.

“i think i’ll pass on this one. thank you though,” you mutter.

“really?” the silver-haired asks, popping her gum before shrugging. “whatever you say. i’m off!”

“bye!”

hearing her footsteps fade, you slump in your seat, your memories with blade hauntingly eminent in your mind. you don’t recall when you fell for him, or why exactly, all you have in your recollection is a series of moments that you look back fondly upon with a full heart, love slowly seeping in to you and causing your affections to grow to the size that they reside at now.

when you had realised, the love had already grown too big to deflate, and dejection struck moments after; a big bang of butterflies in your stomach that all disintegrated straight after.

how brutal- perhaps this was an indication that blade was rubbing off on you too much, and you need to cleanse yourself of his influence.

love, although fickle, was not something that you avidly rejected. despite having lived like a hunted deer, your experiences have been fleeting, building your delicate heart for a life of meeting, falling, then leaving when you least wanted to, needing to run before an arrow pierced you- and certainly not cupid’s one.

but with blade, everything is different. there is no arrow to run from, not in the life that elio has foreseen for you. for the first time in your life, you can stop running away and try fall into the arms of love with little remorse.

it's just ironic that you fall into the arms of a man who should not be touched.

“y/n’s not coming with us today,” silver wolf reports after meeting up with the other two stellaron hunters.

“oh?” kafka hums, “usually y/n’s always willing to hangout, why’s that?”

“busy or something, i don’t know, i didn’t care to ask.”

the slight scrunch of displeasure in blade’s expression passes by the keen eyes of both kafka and silver wolf. if either of them had noticed then perhaps it would have been a topic of interest, but for the time being, the pair move on (faster than the third member), your unusual absence dismissed in favour of where to get food.

as the days turn into nights and elio issues more missions and mumbles more futures, blade feels as though he sees you less and less.

it’s not intuition more than it is you purposefully ignoring and evading blade in your everyday, though.

“good morning,” kafka’s voice greets when she walks in to the cafeteria, where you were eating breakfast alone. setting down your phone, you regard her with a mouth full of bread. “gross. at least swallow first.”

“screw off,” you murmur. “how did you sleep?”

“fine fine, i woke up in the wrong position though and my neck is killing me, but what about you? seems like you’ve been up a while.”

“i’ve been up since asscrack of dawn.”

the purple-haired regards you with amusement. “why’s that?”

“body clock or whatever,” you lie, staring down at your glass of water.

“i see,” kafka hums half-heartedly, as if seeing right through you. “well, i’m going to get some coffee, i’ll be right back.”

“mk.”

you’re left on your own for only a few minutes, waiting patiently in silence for kafka to return. the morning is cool and pleasant, and the smell of rain is still heavy in the air as the morning dew lightens the atmosphere. the weather will surely get hotter as the day matures, but for now, you enjoy the gentle caress of sunlight on your back.

or rather- you were enjoying the gentle caress of the sun, but the methodicalness of it all is ruined when you spot a certain figure with dark, long hair beside kafka.

suddenly the last thing you know is peace and calm, and the abrupt, painful scraping of your chair against the floor symbolises that.

“going somewhere?” kafka asks.

picking up your scraps, you avoid blade’s gaze. “yeah! i- uh, realised that i have some documents to drop off for elio by twelve or whatever.”

“won't you stay to keep us company for breakfast,” the purple-haired tempts, “it feels like it’s been so long since we’ve spent some proper time together.”

“has it?” you laugh nervously and kafka easily picks up the pitchiness of your tone. “i’ll make it up soon, i promise, i’ve just been overflowed with things to do.”

“alright. you be off then. don’t work too hard.”

“i won’t. my head is remaining tight on my shoulders, don’t you worry!” you reassure before scrambling away, feeling like your legs could not be any slower as you retreat away from blade’s scrutinising gaze. when you round the corner, you sigh a breath of relief.

it’s laughable and simultaneously admirable how dedicated you are about dodging every interaction possible, but for the record, you think you’re doing quite well. not that space was doing many favours for your heart, but persistence is key.

whoever believed that distance makes the heart grow fonder just clearly didn’t try enough, because yours feels like it’s about to hammer out of your chest with how fast it is racing, and the sensation is equivalent to something like pain rather than fondness.

“i’m worried,” blade mutters, gaze lingering on where you’d just disappeared. “and why does y/n talk like i’m not right here?”

“aww, are you upset?” coos kafka, taking a seat. the swordsman mimics her.

“why wouldn’t i be? it feels like y/n has been ignoring me as of late.”

kafka hums thoughtfully, swirling her coffee cup around.

“do you know anything about that?”

“nup. nothing at all,” she answers, feigning ignorance to the many suspicions that are bubbling around in her mind. the last thing kafka is, is blind, your unusual behaviour has not bypassed her perceptive eye at all, but she believes she has uncovered the reasoning as to why; said reasoning being a certain swordsman.

the revelation is definitely interesting, and she might just be able to give the push you both need.

“y’know what, bladie? if it concerns you that much, i’d say you go check up on y/n later,” kafka suggests.

“why not you?”

“i’ll be busy, but i think some support in dire times is just what y/n needs.”

“okay. fine.”

when blade gathers the courage to check up on you, like kafka recommended, the time is nearing 5pm. the sun is beginning to cool, the animals are retreating into their nests, and the big, bad, intimidating stellaron hunter is roaming around the archives, where you’re situated to work, hoping to locate you.

it takes a few laps around to finally find your placement because you’re fast asleep, only identifiable to blade by the jacket you hung on the back of your chair.

the sight of you hunched over your desk over a multitude of forms and papers causes a wave of concern (however much he can feel) to wash over blade, and suddenly, he does something completely foreign to him: dote over someone.

gently lifting your jacket to cover your shoulders, he stills when you shift a little, your eyebrows furrowing in your sleep. deciding to leave you alone, all blade spares is one lasting look at your vulnerability before leaving.

he wonders what it is that could be making you so frustrated.

(if only he knew).

a few days later, kafka confronts you about the suspicions that’s been creeping to the forefront of her mind.

“did you do something to piss a certain bladie off?”

kafka’s saccharine voice is laced with mischief as she leans towards you, chin resting on the palm of her hand. she certainly does not miss the way you tense up at the mention of the swordsman’s name and her smirk widens when you shuffle away, subconsciously turning away, as if avoiding the subject.

“i can’t think of why i would have,” you murmur, crossing your arms. “why?”

“oh, nothing, he’s just been complaining and crying a lot recently.”

“he does that all the time.”

“so he does,” your fellow stellaron hunter hums. “except he’s mentioning your name a lot more nowadays.”

you freeze. “what?”

“hm? did i say something peculiar?”

inhaling a deep breath, you steady yourself. you know what kafka wants out of you and you’re not going to give it to her despite how innocent and pretty she spins the web to look. after all these years together, you hope to have learnt a thing or two about how to avoid her snare.

“what is blade saying about me?” you quiz.

she blinks at you. “why so curious if you haven’t done anything?”

“can i not ask about something that involves my name? besides, he’s my friend, i want to know what he’s saying,” you lean against the back of the couch, trying to calm the involuntary shake in your legs. you despise that the slightest mention of blade can cause a bottomless pit to form in your stomach and it’s not because of how intimidating or threatening he is.

no, it’s because you’ve fallen for him, hook, line, and centre.

and blade would have to die before you ever tell him.

“mostly just grumbles about wondering where you are,” kafka expands, waving her hands about to match her words. “he asked silver wolf and i if you’ve been talking to us and when we said ‘yes’, he looked pissed! when i asked why he was being a sourpuss, he just stormed off.”

“so temperamental, that man,” she sighs. then, she looks back at you with those half-lidded eyes that have always gotten her what she wants, and in this case, they’re answers. “so tell me, y/n, what did you do to our bladie to have him all riled up like this?”

“nothing. absolutely nothing.”

“are you sure?”

“positive.”

“positive?”

you avoid her curious gaze. “positive.”

“maybe i phrased the question wrong. has bladie done something to you instead?”

panic settles within you. “no,” you lie through your teeth. “he hasn’t.”

“so if i asked you why you left breakfast so abruptly that day, you wouldn’t say that it’s because of him?”

“i had work to do, kafka, you know how busy my job gets.”

“i know, i know,” she persists, “then why weren’t you in a hurry before blade arrived that morning?”

you don’t know how to refute that, letting silence speak volumes instead.

“and why did you skip out on lunch with silver wolf and i? was it because we also invited a certain someone?”

“okay! fine, you’ve got me. what do you want to know?” you explode, tossing your phone on the couch in frustration.

“so it is about blade?” questions your coworker.

“yeah. it is.”

“what about him? did he do something to hurt you? you know he’s accidentally mean sometimes-”

“it’s not that, he’s nothing but a sweetheart.”

“so what’s the problem?”

“that is the problem! he’s just… he’s him.”

“is that bad?”

“for my heart, yes.”

“oh my- so you like him?”

you exhale exasperatedly, “don’t act like you haven’t already figured that out, kafka.”

the cheshire smile she then flashes sends shivers down your spine. for whatever reason, an oppressive feeling grows in your gut, resembling something like a warning.

“you’re right, i knew,” she flaunts. then, her gaze cuts to look behind you. “but i don’t think blade did.”

your heart lurches out of your chest with enough force to pull you off the couch and you stumble around to see that, lo and behold, blade was indeed standing in the hallway. the expression he wears tells you enough; he heard you, he knows.

kafka somehow sneaks her way out of the room, leaving you alone to deal with the face of rejection. it’s daunting being in the same space as him after so long, you almost forgot about the intimidating pressure that blade naturally exudes and projects in every space he enters.

“hi,” you start, looking away.

he stalks over to you, footsteps soundless before stopping a feet in front of you. instead of saying something, the swordsman merely gazes down at you whilst you keep your eyes glued to the side.

“can you reject me already? the silence is kinda killing me,” you snap after a few seconds, crossing your arms protectively.

instead of obeying to your request, blade does something completely unexpected; he very gently lifts your chin with his hand, and red eyes bore right into yours. is it odd to feel seen in your demise? because blade is looking- no, surveying you with such immense focus and clarity that your heart stills, frozen in position because it wants him to see the most picturesque part of you.

(he sees it, but he wants to know more of you. the pretty, the ugly, the likeable, and the unwanted.)

“would you like to go on a date?” he asks.

#this was awful </3 #blade x reader #blade hsr x reader #ren x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x gn!reader #blade x gn!reader #blade fluff #blade x reader fluff

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pursuitseternal · 23 days ago

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“A Life for an Unlife:”

Act 1 Astarion x f!Reader | E | 4K

Summary: The Rogue of your group has been a flirt, he’s asked you for a night of passion… but you know there’s more to him than just the vampirism he’s kept secret. After you make a reckless decision in battle, there’s more than a fever’s heat between you as he tends your wounds.

CW: Act 1 AU romance, wound tending, temperature play, hurt/comfort, feelings confessions, first time as pair

📸 by @casualya

Prompt fill for @wtv-my-current-hyperfixation

Ao3 Link | Astarion Masterlist

Goblins. Why did it have to be goblins? So many and all at once, they seemed to come from every nook and cranny in this Selûne forsaken temple. Panting, you scan the carnage, a few echoing clangs of blades still come from across the great big space, the crumbling walls bouncing grunts and metal strikes. Heart racing in your chest, you try to follow it, feet slipping in the slicks of blood as you round the corner.

Astarion snarls, daggers in hand, disarming the Bugbear he has before him. “You’re mine!” he growls, plunging his blade up into its throat. Then he smiles, pulling the knife free, bloodlust shining like glee in his crimson eyes as he turns towards you.

Gods, he’s glorious all spattered in gore, the crimson on his face and in his hair making those matching eyes of his almost glow. He smirks, drawing himself up, hiding the way his chest heaves from exertion. “Like what you see, darling? I could hardly blame you… If I had known it was violence that got you going, maybe I would have asked you to my bed under different…”

His voice continues to purr, even as he saunters slowly towards you. But movement above on the wall catches your eye. “Astarion!” you gasp, staring right at a wounded goblin, his ugly drawstring bow aimed right for your vampire.

Quicker than a breath, he grabs his own bow, reaching for an arrow… only to find his quiver empty. “Bloody hells,” he growls, those hands twitching as he turns. Then you see it, the look of fear in his red eyes. The faintest sound of the goblins bowstring tightening thunders in your ear even at a distance. And those red eyes widen as he braces himself for the shot. His body is already exhausted, bloodied and bruised. And you think with your instinct, with your magic. With your heart.

Magic flares from your hands, your body rushing in the dank dark air of the ruins as you teleport. His place becomes yours, that arrow meant for him, thus, also becomes yours. Pain slices into your chest, numb at first, the shaft in your chest barely registering to your brain. Just an ache and warmth covering your breasts as you begin to bleed.

You hear your name faintly, distorted to your ears, but definitely called from those lips you long to kiss. Astarion yells for healing, cursing for the Cleric to come. The world narrows to the wet ache in your chest and the fading sound of Astarion’s voice in your ear. Suddenly you’re on your back, the sky above you peeking through the broken temple ceiling is so beautiful you think… and the last thing you see is a pair of crimson eyes and a fluff of bloodied silver hair as a face swims into your line of sight.

Then the world goes black.

You wake to a cool wet cloth pressed to your head by a corpse-cold hand.

“Godsdammit,” you hear that silken voice no longer silken cursing above you, “get up, damn you.”

That wet cloth passes down your cheek, the sound of water wringing into a metal pan pierces the haze of your delirium. “Hells damn it, why did you have to use your blasted magic on me, idiot,” the snarl is rough, distant, his handsome face turned away as he curses your selfless stupidity.

Something presses to your lips. A smooth glass bottle neck, the tingling taste of healing potion dripping into your mouth. “My last healing potion,” he mutters, “all because you were a damned fool to take that arrow just to save my sorry hide…”

“…it’s a handsome… hide,” you mutter, lips half-stuck together as you swallow the potion. You’re not even sure he could understand what you said let alone hear it. As you come to, you realize your skin is damp with water and sweat, your body wracked with shivers. Your skin is hot and cool all at once. Fever.

His hand clenches the bottle, those sure fingers shaking as the glistening red liquid dribbles down your chin.

“Hells,” he curses, wiping it away with the calloused pad of this thumb. “You’re awake?” He clears his throat, “I mean… of course you’re awake.” His gaze narrows, flirtatious and self-assured. “With these skilled hands attending you, you’ll be right as rain in no time.” He wrings the towel in the dish to press it to your brow. “Back on your feet and being foolish and selfless in no time.”

A few swipes of cloth, and he tosses it back in the basin. He turns his back, one hand reaching around to press awkwardly behind him, fingers digging through the worn fabric of his shirt. A strange motion, one you think has more to do with his internal dialogue than the one between you. You part your lips, voice dry and rough. “Astarion, I…”

“Save it,” he snips, “I can help tend your wounds, but I can’t fix stupidity. Foolish, selfless hero. Did you not get enough heroics killing goblins? Not enough finding the Archdruid and wiping out a Hobgoblin and a Drow? You just had to save my sorry ass too?”

His voice grows shrill. That collected purr, the one that rumbles deep in his chest and makes your thighs clench, has disappeared. He sounds frantic. Manic.

Afraid.

You never once imagined you’d see a vampire afraid before. You open your mouth once more but he just shakes his head and interjects again. “The gith went to hurry after the fabled Halsin to bring him here to heal you properly. Even Shadowheart’s powers could only do so much.” He grumbles, annoyed and irritated. He’s… sulking. As if he was the one shot.

“The hells is wrong with you?” you manage to grumble through your parched throat.

“You should have let me take that arrow.” He snarls, voice pressed and quiet. “I was the one dumb enough to run out of arrows! I was the one unaware of my surroundings! But no, you had to save me… to make me look like a fool.” He pauses, worked up into a frenzy, chest heaving and everything. “You… you swapped with me…”

You realize it’s a question… of sorts.

Before you can give answer, he shoves a skin of water in your hands. Then he moves to the flap of your tent. “Where’s that gods forsaken Druid? I need healing here! Now!”

You guzzle down the water, feeling it cool on your feverish skin. Sputtering, the noises draw Astarion’s attention back on you. “Fucks sake,” he curses kneeling back down beside you. His fingers feel like ice on your flushed and fevered face as he wipes the trickles of water clean. “You’re a fucking mess, Al becuase you had to play the hero. And see what heroics get you? An arrow in your chest and a fever as you recover. That will show you not to go around caring for others.” Those magnificent silver brows furrow as he turns to get fresh cool water to dampen your sweating face.

He grinds his teeth, that sharp corner of his jaw clenches and unclenches. Even feverish and sweating, you can tell there is so much he is withholding.

Your head swims as you watch him brood. Shivering, your delirium surges as you vaguely watch him turn his head and disappear through the tent flap. Rustling… footsteps… another cool glass bottle presses to your mouth. Another potion trickles down your dry and gasping throat.

“It’s an antidote, in case that arrow was poisoned, and Halsin is on his way. Just… hold on.” He whispers, more to himself than you. “This isn’t what you deserve darling… but me… I would have deserved this. You’re too good to suffer.” He’s definitely muttering to himself now. “Hells, you’re still burning. I need to get you cool, to stem the fever.”

You hear the sloshing of water and force your eyes open, raising a shaking hand to grip his wrist.

“You’re cool,” you breathe. “Your skin is… ice cold…” you pull his hand to your sweating face. The relief is instant, his undead body soaking in the fever-flush of your cheek.

Astarion gives a half-hearted, breathy laugh. “Any excuse to get my shirt off, I see? Though I remember someone not being entirely receptive to previous offers to view what lies beneath all this,” he taunts, a forced air of flattery. But the knit of his brows, the wet shine of his red eyes still betrays his worry. “No matter,” he continues, pulling off that cream ruffled shirt to reveal the hard planes of his body. “Better late than never.”

His fingers flex, peeling the blanket off your chest to reveal your breasts bound in linen. “It’s been some time since my body has been warm, let alone feverish, but I do know we have to keep you cool.” Graceful and stealthy, it almost feels like he sneaks up on you the way his body slides against yours, your chests pressed together. Your belly rises rapidly as you pant. Your fever, no doubt. Yes, that’s why your heart thunders beneath your ribs and why your breath is shaky and quick.

The more his corpse-cold torso presses into the softer flesh of yours, the clearer your head grows. Antidote or healing potion or just the cool comfort of his body… whatever it is, it’s working. You feel your senses steadying and your body ground itself.

But you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, settling for letting yourself be cuddled and cooled in his arms.

He holds you carefully, like a figure made of glass. The smooth, cool press of his body blankets you and the fever flush and pain of your wound dissipates. You feel almost back to normal. Except for a new kind of heat roiling in your lower belly.

You try to ignore it, but it only worsens the longer you lay skin-to-skin in Astarion’s arms. You try to force your breathing to even out, to will your heart to slow and your limbs to ease…

As if you were asleep, sneaking this moment in his arms. Something you’ve wanted for a while now, but have been too nervous to attempt. He’s always been too flirty, too cocky, or too seductive. You know there is much more behind his show of confidence than he’s revealed to you. So you close your eyes and listen to the slow thump of his undead heart.

It’s quiet as you rest, Astarion barely shifts, barely breathes as he cools you with his skin. Lost in his own broodings and musings. He rests his head on yours, so much intimacy, you realize he thinks you must be asleep. Then he breaks the silence, his inner dialogue escaping him, you realize with a smile.

His voice is like the whisper of cool silk on your skin, his nose pressing into your temple. “You know, I didn’t care much for you when we first met, and the jury’s still out on your heroic tendencies,” he murmurs into your ear. “I’m only saying this because you’re one foot in the proverbial grave, but… please don’t die. I couldn’t bear to have you die because of me. I couldn’t live with it… or… well, be undead with it…”

He laughs at his own joke, his own best audience with you barely conscious in his embrace.

“What’s a life for an unlife at any rate. You’re the first person to say that you cared whether I lived or died, let alone take action to save my life… or my unlife… oh whatever.”

He frustrates himself, his own words getting the better of him.

And you laugh. It’s faint, just a small giggle. But those keen pointed ears twitch at the sound, the hard planes of his belly feeling your own jiggle with your chuckle.

“Hells,” he curses, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’re awake. You… heard all that?”

Slowly, you lift your head, meeting his hesitant and guarded scarlet gaze. He waits, cautious and careful. After all, he’s spent two centuries as a slave, and given all he’s revealed, it’s clear he’s waiting to see if you’re worthy of trust.

You can’t help but mold your lips into a reassuring smile. Your voice is stronger than he anticipated, the light in your eyes brighter and not with fever-glass. He smiles back as you reply. “You’ve borne enough pain in your life, Astarion. I figured it was time someone else could shoulder the burden. Besides,” you groan, wincing as you shift to reveal the bandages on your chest, “you don’t need any more scars…”

He stiffens. “What do you mean?” he blusters, a show of cocky ignorance. And you just calmly reach around to touch his back, riddled with strange scars.

“I saw you bathing last night in the stream. I… don't know what they mean, but I know you didn’t get them in battle.” Your voice trails off as he stiffens.

“It’s a story for another time… a reminder of Cazador, my old master,” he clenches his jaw, a signal that he’s given you all he will tonight. “At any rate those are wounds that have healed, unlike your festering arrow wound.”

You shiver as he pulls you closer against his cool skin. “At least there’s some plus side to being undead,” he teases, “though… I can’t think of many others.”

You give a feeble laugh again. “You… have many things in your favor. Your quick wit, your deceptive charisma, your determination when you finally find something you set your mind to, that is.”

That makes him laugh too, his hands winding to your back and sliding to grip your ass. He pulls you impossibly closer… and… is that his leg pressing between yours?

“You forget so many of my other advantages, darling. My refined good looks, my impeccable hair, my silver tongue… my mighty fangs….” The last attribute he shows off with a cheeky smirk before dragging them over your neck right in that spot where he’s fed a few times from you.

Your breath catches and your head swims again, and you're pretty sure that the antidote has healed you already. Your fever is lessened, and now your body just burns. That ache in your belly moves lower, settling its weight and pain between your thighs.

No, this is a sense of overwhelm, a heady rush of want and heat as he pulls you hard to press your fevered skin to his ice-cold chest.

You murmur his name against the smooth cool expanse of his chest as you bury your face again.

“Speak up, darling. I’d hate to miss a single sweet syllable from your lips.” Chilling fingers press under your chin, lifting you up to meet his guarded gaze. “Now that I’ve got you right where I’ve wanted you, I’ll ask you again. Why did you save me? Why trade your life for mine? A life for a life is no inconsequential trade…”

The air in your lungs burns. “That’s because what I feel for you isn’t… inconsequential.”

There. It’s done. You said it. The words that have burned in your belly and scratched at your throat every time you locked stares with the fucking vampire… you finally let them out. Finally admitting that you do… feel… something.

His chest is still, neither inhaling more exhaling, crimson eyes scanning your face for deceit or sarcasm. But no. You just stare back at him as your lower lip starts to tremble pathetically and your eyes prick with unshed tears. You wait an ungodly amount of time for him to finally exhale. His breath is cool, especially on your sweat-soaked cheek. “Truly? Is that what you learned from all this?” His words are meant to sting, but his voice quivers with stifled emotion. As if he’s trying to be the arrogant arse he usually is.

“Hells,” he winces, “you’re serious about this? His elegant hand gestures to the minimal space between your chests. “About… us?”

It’s all you can do to meet his stare and try not to cry.

“Not a tenday ago, and the very idea of being held in my arms made you cringe,” he teases, brow arched, conceited smirk on his thick lips. “I’d ask what’s changed, but…” he glances to where your bandages still cut into your chest, dried with blood. “Staring death in the face can give you a new perspective…. Like making you want to stare undeath in the face instead.” His brows furrow, his hand absentmindedly traces over his own twin scars.

For a moment, you think he’s being humorous at your expense, but there is only a far off glint of grief and suffering in his eye. You reach your warm palm to cup his cheek, his name a summons on your tongue. “Astarion…”

Your tone is strong, your breathing rapid, and no doubt he smells the hot arousal that has settled in your belly.

His name on your lips is all the encouragement he needs.

That piercing gaze returns, sharp and hungry. “Need I remind you, I offered you a night to escape all this madness and you… refused. So what’ll it be now, darling?” You feel a cool palm inside your thighs, his own leg gently pushing yours apart. And that gaze deepens in intensity, dilating. “Is this it? It’s what you want… isn’t it?”

You can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t even lift your head to reply. And that smooth, chilling hand travels higher up your leg.

“You’re burning up, darling.” Those arrogant, smirking lips press to your pulse point, just a hint of fang points stabbing into the same spot that’s starting to scar from his near-nightly feeding. “And… I don’t think it’s your fever. Far as I know, fevers don’t make one’s cunt this wet and needy…”

A whine slips past your lips, your body shivering again as your legs splay just a bit more.

“Perhaps I should reward you for saving me the trouble of being shot, a little something for you?”

Before he can slide his hand higher into your underthings, you reach to stop him. “Wait,” you hiss, panting with need even as your mind screams at you. “I… I don’t want this to be a transaction. I want to do this because I want you.”

Those red eyes flare wide, his pointed ears dipping and lowering. A flash of vulnerability even as he rolls himself on top of you.

“Of course you want me, there’s nothing more desirable in the world than a vampire…” the words that come from his flat-lined mouth sound bitter.

“No, no,” you insist, running your hands up to brace his face. “I want you because you’re charming and funny, you’re lonely and hurting, and… I want to make it better for you.”

He freezes, body still pinning yours to the ground, hips pushed into your sex, hands stuck at the back of your neck. “A life for a life, you already spared me an arrow, and now… you offer to help me again?” The words are barely audible, incredulous. If it wasn’t for the narrow distance between your mouths already, you would have thought it was just a voice on the wind outside your tent.

But that cool breath that sweeps between your open lips is all the encouragement you need. You pull him the slight distance between you. Just a kiss. Just a press of his full, gaping lips against your pursed ones.

That’s all it takes, as something snaps into place between you. Now, he’s the one feverish with need, the one beginning to sweat as his hands pull your head back, his mouth working ravenously into your kiss, and those trim hips thrusting his hard cock against your sex.

That grind of his clothed body into your underthings makes your pulse gallop, your heart nearly bursting more now than when a goblin arrow lodged itself near it. Your back arches off the ground, his grip turning your head just so, the perfect angle for his fangs. He bites and drinks as the freezing numbness of his fangs soothes your heat. And yet it makes you all the wetter for him. Your underthings are soaked, the fabric clinging to your folds, dragged to the side by his bulge as he dry fucks you and feeds.

“More, Astarion,” you keen as you buck your hips in time with him. And that sloppy, bloodied mouth lifts from your neck. His eyes are black, barely ringed with scarlet as he pants into your face.

“You sure you’re up for this, darling? Because once I start…" His voice is slick from feeding and rough with lust.

All you do is move your shaking hands to his leathers, finding the fastenings to free his pulsing, flushed cock. His lips quirk to one side, that blood-dripping mouth curling into an even hungrier smirk. “I am right glad you’re feeling so… lively after nearly dying,” he tries to smooth his voice back into that silken purr, but his body is wound too tight. His hand reaches to tease your folds and bare your cunt completely beneath him.

You smirk, pressing your parted lips to his. “Lively, but… perhaps I’ll try that little death you’ve offered me…”

Grit teeth and grinning, he presses that blunted tip at your entrance, a few shallow dips to test your wetness before he pushes all the way inside. Those red eyes close once he’s buried to the hilt. Just a breath of a groan or a laugh, you can’t tell which. All you know is that you will do anything in the future just to hear that sound again. For all his bluster and hunger, he pulls back and pushes in so agonizingly slow. For as quickly as he feeds on your blood, he fucks you tenderly, savouring the drag of his cock against your walls.

Grasping at his neck, you feel the dirge tempo of his undead heart quicken slightly, his skin, still cool, warms just a touch as it grows slick with sweat.

“Hells,” he groans with another breathy giggle, “you’re tighter than a Cleric’s tourniquet.” Those hips undulate, hands still threaded into the mess of your hair. “I fear I won’t last long, not with how much I’ve wanted this.”

His tongue licks at the blood that still sticks to his lips and chin. That thrusting pace quickens, and your hips rock faster to match. Fingers slip to find your clit, teasing it, circling it, pinching it even as his own thrusts grow erratic. You whimper and moan in excess until the heat of your fever dissipates, and the wave of hot pleasure floods you in its place. Your curl in on him, legs gripping and shaking around his waist, arms pulling his chest to bear down on yours even harder. You lose where your body ends and his begins, save for the heated flush of your flesh and his cooler, undead body.

He makes that same coveted noise, the one between a gasp and a laugh, and he does it right in your ear as he comes. He claws around you with the same tenacity as you, as if he can’t bear to be separated from you. Not now. Not that you’ve given him so much… life. Nearly your own life… in exchange that he might feel alive for now, and maybe forever with you.

Thank you to @astarionancuntnin and @nyx-knox for reading it over ✨💅✨

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daughterofyore · 1 year ago

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George and the Pond.

King George x f!reader

[[Queen Charlotte (Netflix)]]

category; heavy smut, fluff, angst (lil bit)

wc; 2,249

music inspired;- apocalypse

a/n:: George has a manic episode by the pond, you manage to calm him and he’s so thankful for you he fucks you to show it :)

TW!: NSFW, George porphyria episode (Venus), heavy smut, breeding kink, Good ol fast sex

Venus begged George to find her. She pleaded with him to search, to save her. She was his one true love. She needed him! He ran through the palace grounds, in the distance behind him there was a cacophony of shouts, someone begging for him to turn around. It was Venus’ ex lovers, surely. They didn’t understand the love they shared, the adoration of their coupling. Her beautiful, pale skin and blemished face. Glowing like a fading star against the ebony blanket of the night sky. An infinite amount of white blazing stars surrounding her like a halo in all her glory. Oh, how he longed to be by her side. How he dared to get closer to her. He needed to feel her glow upon his skin, so without a moments hesitation he ripped his clothes from his skin. Silk pyjamas made of the finest lapis lazuli blue discarded into the mud of the pond. He raised his arms to her, crying for her to join him on this mortal plane. For the goddess of love to bless him with her prowess. He could feel her compassionate deposition seep into his very pores, touching his bare, sculpted body. Casting shadows along the dips and ridges of his muscles.

“George!” You cried out to him, watching as he bared his body to the entire garden. Reynolds raced ahead of you, reaching before you could. You were still adorned in your glittering evening gown. Made of a deep fiery scarlet, as if it was made of the last embers of a great fire. Silver lining cascaded down its centre and bodice, elaborate lace adorning the contrasting peachy cream underskirt. It flew around you as you gathered the skirt into your arms, heels clicking off the cobbles and then sinking into the finely kept lawns. You stumbled and struggled to reach your husband, you could see his eyes glistening as he stared at the planet Venus. He cried of his love to her, his devotion. How is it I don’t receive that love? You scoffed, a moment of clarity as you were still unsure as to why he acted this way. You had suspected it for some time now, his comings and goings from Kew. The secrecy surrounding him and the protectiveness of not only Reynolds but his mother too.

Your voice was like an arrow through the fog, piercing the hazy clouds in his peripherals. Venus seemed to fade into the background as he spun to look at you. You weren’t Venus, you were you. Shining brighter than she ever could. As he watched you approach, the sparkles glittering from your dress enraptured him. He felt himself falling in your direction, before a voice called him to turn around. Venus, competitive as always. She challenged you for his attention. He laughed incredulously, how lucky was he to be fought over by the Goddess of Love and her rival? Reynolds stood at his side, begging helplessly for him to return to the castle. He gathered his clothes in his hand, looking at him with a pleading gaze. Continuously he requested for the King to go inside, tried to reason with him. You knew you had never seen this before but maybe, just maybe he would recognise you.

You reached his side, letting go of your dress. It fell on his feet and pressed into his calves. He turned to you, eyes wide, hyperventilating. “You won-“ He whispered looking at you, as if it was the first time he truly saw you. He turned towards the sky, laughing. “You lost Venus! Imagine that!” He returned to face you but upon seeing your worried expression, his celebrations halted. “How come you are not happy? You have won, have you not?”

“George, it’s time we go inside now.”

“What, why? The night is beautiful we-“

“George, Venus has lost this game but I would prefer to celebrate with you indoors.” He stood very still for a moment, dark brows scrunching together as he tried to concentrate and discern exactly what you were implying. His brain felt jumbled, mixed and confused. Like he wasn’t allowed to understand, as if there was a black alabaster wall separating from the here and there.

“I wish to stay here. Let’s celebrate here.” You paused and gazed at him, studying him carefully. You spun to Reynolds.

“Cover the windows and leave his clothes here. Ensure nobody enters these grounds or can see us.” Reynolds pressed his lips into a thin line before muttering a ‘Yes, your majesty.’ He left, grabbing Brimsley by the elbow and guiding him indoors. You turned back to George, your husband. Your king. You rested a gentle hand on his chest, and he stilled. He sucked in a devastating shaky breath before raising his arms to hold your shoulders.

“You, you saw- oh, wife I- oh I am so sorry.” His eyes began to water, a new clarity crossing them. His face slackened, now an evident frown replacing his once maniacal smile. You hushed him, gently guiding him to your chest as you snaked comforting arms around him. You held him in your embrace, rubbing soothing circles on his back as he let silent sobs escape him. He sniffled, clutching onto the fabric of your dress as he eventually sunk to his knees. “My dear I am so sorry, I am sorry I have avoided you. That I have tried to hide I-“ He couldn’t get his words out but you put a comforting hand on his head. Intertwining your fingers with his brown locks, you gently massaged his scalp.

“Do not apologise George. I understand you. I am here for you. Come, let us lie and look at the stars together.” You smiled at him, holding his hand and laying on the lawn. He tentatively lay beside you, he finally noticed his nakedness and his hands rushed to cover himself. You once again shushed him, grabbing the many layers of your skirts and draping them across his waist. “No need to worry about what I have seen before darling.” You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. He smiled, sucking in a breath after as he looked to the sky.

“I could be married to a pompous wench right now, who wouldn’t give a damn about me. Who would run in the opposite direction if she saw what I did tonight..” he turned his head, gazing at you. You met his eyes and smiled. “Yet you stay, you lie with me. Why?”

“I believe I see myself in you. Trapped, misunderstood.” You took a shivering breath. “Sometimes all we need is a little kindness and a show of stability. I wish to be that for you.” His eyes began to glaze, he sucked in his bottom lip as it began to quiver.

He turned on his side, a new light coming to his eyes. Slowly he raised a leg to bend at an angle across your thighs. Bracing himself on an elbow he gazed at you. His face inches from you. “I do not know what I have done to deserve a woman such as you.” Slowly he lowered his lips to yours, kissing you softly. You reciprocated it, lips merely mingling before he slipped his tongue across them, asking for entry. You obliged, parting your lips as his tongue slipped by. He licked the bottom of your teeth, before dancing around your tongue with his. He sucked on your lip, biting it gently and sucking the sting away. You gasped, a hand travelling up his side. You could feel his muscles shiver at your touch, he manoeuvred over you, straddling your hips. His cock pressed against your stomach, hardening. His hands travelled up your sides before reaching your breasts. They were secured behind the corset of your evening gown, yet he managed to push a hand down its front and grope one. He massaged it in his hand, loving the mass and softness of it. His kiss deepened, he peppered them along your jaw and to your collarbone. Reaching your cleavage he looked at you mischievously, recalling his hand and replacing its absence with long, sensuous licks across the top of your breasts. His tongue travelled over them, then between. He licked up from your cleavage to your throat, to your lips. Kissing you again before he backed down, grabbing your skirts.

“And I you, my queen.”

You were breathing heavy, barely able to control the growing heat intensifying between your legs. A steady throb as it begged for attention. Your core tightening in angst of what was to come. This was what your wedding night should’ve been, but you didn’t care. This, this was better. Laying on the cool grass beneath a bright moon and stars that reflected off of a still pond. This was bliss. George hiked your skirts up, laying them across your midriff. He bowed down again, grabbing your pantyhose and pulling them down to expose bare thighs. He looked at you over the mound of skirts, smirking. “Are you alright my love, may I continue?” You nod, breath escaping you. You peered up at the stars between the foliage of the cherry blossom tree. George dipped his head between your thighs, gently pushing them apart. He kissed and nipped at the sensitive skin, licking the sting away again once more.

Agonisingly slow he made his way to your centre, licking over the underwear covering you. He raised a hand, rubbing a finger between your folds and feeling the wetness seep the fabric. He grinned, pushing a finger into you and watching you arch your back. He kept the underwear on, watching you squirm as he teased you. Ever so slowly he retracted the finger, dragging it up and pressing it to your clit. Your juices soaked the fabric now, it clung to your very shape. You jolted at the contact, the pressure on your clit making you pull away. He grabbed your left leg, putting it over his shoulder and gripping your thigh to hold you in place. He spread you with a knee, continuously exploring you over the whimsy barrier of your panties. You moaned, trying to move but he held you firmly in place. “Are you ready wife? Ready for me to take you?” You nod feverishly, his ministrations have built a fiery ache in your core. Begging for his attention. Your cunt wept as it pleaded for him to enter it, to give it attention. George smirked, gently taking your hands and pulling you up. He stepped behind you and made short work of the lace up your back. He quickly pulled the dress off, then the undergarments until finally you were bare before him. He smiled, standing back and admiring you. “My beautiful wife, in all her glory.” His eyes were ravenous, without a moments hesitation he was back between your legs. He kneeled, grabbing your hips he hoisted you into an awkward position, your legs dangled above his shoulders while you lay only on your shoulders and head. He held you in his grip, his lips placing tender kisses across your cunt. He licked, slow as of tasting your every essence. His tongue slipped into you, to which he began to lick inside you. He left it begging for more and turned his attention to your clit again. It throbbed for him, and he knew it did. He wrapped an arm around your leg, balancing your ass against his chest as he spread you with two fingers. He began to taste you, sucking on your clit. He nipped it, sucking it better straight after. You squirmed in his grasp but he still held you firmly, refusing to let you move. He lapped at your pussy like a thirsty dog, drinking you up. He turned his attention back to your clit, sucking intensely on it. You moaned, cried out his name. He seemed to only grow more excited and you could feel his length pressing into the small of your back. He sucked, and sucked, and sucked until finally the growing tension ruptured. You screamed his name, yet he continued to suck and lick you through the orgasm. You were trembling at the end, and he lay you down, kissing your stomach. He looked up at you as you threaded fingers through his hair. “I’m going to put a baby in you, my queen.” He smirked and you swore it nearly undid you again. He sat back on his knees, his cock long and hard as it stood. He grabbed your hips, pulling you towards him. He grabbed his dick, rubbing it’s tip along your slit. He pressed a firm hand down on your stomach as he slowly pushed his way in without any warning. You stretched, moaning around him. His sheer size pushing you close to ecstasy.

Once he was in he let loose a shivering sigh, looking back to you. “Are you alright my love?” You nodded, placing a hand on his as it pressed into your stomach. He could feel the faint mass of his cock in you, it turned him on even more. Slowly, he pulled out and pushed back in again. Keeping a slow and steady rhythm till you had adjusted. Once he could feel you relax, he began to pound into you. Growing in intensity. Gasps of air escapes him each time he fucks you. You were a moaning mess, barely able to breathe. Your breasts bounced up and down at the ferocity he pounded into you. His balls clapped off your ass, sounding through the garden. You felt like you were in heaven. He looked up at you and grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing it. He pinched your nipple, pulling it slightly as he fucked you. You were in ecstasy. Every inch of your being burning, yearning for his touch. He grabbed your hips, spinning you around to be on all fours as he stayed inside you. He gripped your hips and continued his merciless fucking. “George! Oh fuck George-“ You screamed for him, moaning his name.

“I’m going to cum inside you pretty queen-“ He moaned your name, deep and guttural. “And watch you grow with our child, our heir.” You cried out for him again, and it was all he needed to slam himself into without mercy, he reached a hand around you, rubbing your clit with no remorse. It was so intense you couldn’t think straight.

“George I- George I’m going to cum!”

“Do it, do it for me my queen. Do it together.” He moaned above you, continuing his ministrations. The pair of you cried out, heads thrown back in ecstasy. You orgasmed, and he spilled his seed into you. It’s warmth spreading through your core. He stayed in you for a moment, breathing deeply. You were gasping for air below him. Eventually he slid out, pulling you down to lay beside him. He held you close, running a lazy hand up and down your side.

“My beautiful Queen, fucked by the garden pond.”

#king george iii #king george bridgerton #king george x reader #king george x f!reader #queen Charlotte #queen Charlotte x reader #king George smut #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton series #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton fanfiction #queen charlotte fanfiction

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jjunieworld · 9 months ago

Text

stupid cupid! ` . ᡣ𐭩 ་ જ⁀➴

pairing: huening kai x gn!reader

genre: fluff-y mainly, cupid!hueningkai, sort of psyche!reader, blonde!kai, strangers to lovers, love at first sight(?), yearning to the max, kinda mythology au? (references to gods & myths), both y/n and kai’s pov are shown

synopsis: hueningkai, better known as cupid, is known for his art in helping people fall in love. shooting his arrows here and there, getting those who are meant to be together. what happens when after he shoots one of his love arrows at you, the other one somehow ends up hitting him?

word count: 6.5k┊v-day event masterlist┊masterlist

a/n: last and final part of my v-day event! happy valentine’s day!! kai’s look and outfit is heavily based on his look and outfit from the freeze concept photos (above)! lowkey this made me wanna get into more mythology aus, maybe even delve more deeper into cupid!kai and psyche!reader… who knows! i hope you enjoy! ♡

valentine’s day was always a good day for hueningkai. it was when he really got to shine at what he did. hueningkai liked to people watch, liked to see just what makes two mortals fall for each other. yes, he was well versed in all things love—thanks to his mother, but he’s never actually experienced it before.

inhaling deeply, hueningkai steadied his bow and aimed towards the boy a couple yards from him, his large ivory wings flaring out behind him. he shifted slightly from high up on his perch as he aimed for the boy’s heart, light pink arrowhead beaming brightly in the early morning sunlight. time slowed as hueningkai exhaled, no sound, no movement, nothing. all at once everything flew back into motion as the bowstring flung past his limp fingertips, the silver arrow shooting through the boy’s heart and unrequited love consuming him.

hueningkai pulled out another shaft from his quiver at his hip, this one with a blunt tip made of lead. he aimed it at the girl beside the boy and fired it, aversion filling her body as the two of them looked at each other. hueningkai lowered his bow as he watched the mortals, intrigued. his wings tucked themselves into his back behind him.

as the boy professed his love for the girl, as they always do, the girl’s face fell more and more. a polite smile formed on her mouth and she pushed the extended card back towards the boy. hueningkai watched her lips, her mouth forming: “i’m sorry, but i just don’t feel that way about you.” he then watched as the boy’s shoulders dropped and he turned to walk away. hueningkai hummed. how curious, he thought.

flying over the crowd of people, the eye that wasn’t covered by his pink heart-shaped eyepatch was focused on the sky ahead of him. hueningkai lifted the eyepatch, closing his eyes briefly as he landed to adjust to the sudden difference in vision. when he opened them again, wings coming to lay flat at his back, they landed on you a few feet in front.

pulling out a golden arrow of uncontrollable desire, hueningkai aims it straight at your heart. hueningkai felt his own beating heart in his chest as he steadied his slightly shaking fingers, staring at the slightly transparent pink halo that’s around your body. you were quite beautiful, and that was saying something coming from him. releasing the arrow and watching it pierce through you, he looks around for your matching halo but sees no one. hueningkai furrows his eyebrows. how odd, this has never happened before, he thinks.

hueningkai moved to put his bow over his shoulders when the heart-shaped tip of one of his golden arrows grazed his skin, scratching him. thinking nothing of it, he moved to continue on his way. he is very busy today, and he still had to shoot his arrows into a plethora of other people. surely his own arrows of desire couldn’t affect the god of desire?

he gave one last look at you as he pulled his eyepatch back down. suddenly, hueningkai felt as if his heart was physically trying to leap out his chest and he reeled backwards from the feeling, wings enveloping him as he squeezed his eyes shut.

what the hell? he thought. what is this feeling? shaking his head slightly, he looked back up at you just as you looked up from the paper you were scribbling away on. your eyes widened and eyebrows had knitted together as you seemingly saw him.

that was impossible, hueningkai should’ve been invisible to the human eye! taking flight, hueningkai flew high into the clouds at a rapid speed. today was already off to a rough start and the day had barely begun.

you felt like there were a heavy set of eyes on you, burning a hole right through your body and to your very soul. looking up from your sketchbook, you locked eyes with what you could only describe as an angel. you couldn’t see much of him, his body and face mainly being covered with wings as white as snow, but you saw his dark eyes and his fair hair.

his eyes pierced through you with such intensity, it caused your heart to pick up in speed and your breath to hitch. both of his eyes were brown, but the right one had a ring of dark pink bleeding into the iris. they were shadowed with a deep pink and you saw what looked like an eyepatch above the strange looking right eye. light blonde hair fell messily over his forehead. who was he, this man—this creature? what was he? was he even a he?

furrowing your brows, you didn’t have the chance to answer before the winged creature took to the sky. you looked around you as confusion seeped into you. nobody else seemed to have seen a thing. not even the fallen winter leaves seemed ruffled by the wind of it’s wings.

at first, you thought maybe a prank was being played on you, but the more and more you looked around and saw nobody reacting to what you just saw, you began to think against it. maybe it was your mind playing a trick on you from your lack of sleep? running a hand over your face and sighing lightly, you gathered your sketchbook and your supplies and threw on your black jacket as you headed home.

that night, the creature wouldn’t leave your mind. his tormented eyes and the light against his hair haunted you all the way to your dreams.

in your dream, you were in a vast, intricately decorated palace. golden columns, carved ceilings of ivory, and walls full of wild animals beckoned you forward on the jeweled mosaic floor. in the distance you can hear piano playing softly, so you decide to follow it through the empty corridors.

you walked into a large open room with a single, long table in the center. there was only one chair, at the head closest to the entrance. half of the room was lit up by candlelight, the other half was basked in darkness. the strangeness of it all halted you, made your pulse quicken. it didn’t help that you could feel someone from the shadows watching you intently from the other side of the table, could barely see the outline of their silhouette.

“take a seat, my darling,” a honeyed voice said. something didn’t seem right about it. it sounded almost twisted at the corners; unreal and slightly disembodied. slowly, you made your way to the only seat available, confused eyes and knitted brows looking around the room. at the blink of your eyes, there was suddenly a feast in front of you. the plate just in front of you was almost filled to the brim with various types of dishes and there was a goblet with a candelabra next to it filled with who knows what. “don’t be shy, fill your needs. and then fill them more,” the voice spoke softly.

you leaned away from the table slightly, not a lot to cause suspicion or alert whoever was across from you. you didn’t think that mattered, though, because the gaze on you was already piercing. somehow, you felt like you knew it was that creature you saw earlier who was now hiding in the darkness.

a softly humming voice joined in with the piano and it sent a shiver down your spine from how beautiful it sounded. “are you a man, or an angel?” you asked the darkness, scared of the answer. a slight chuckle followed, “i am neither.” with narrowed eyes, you hope you were staring the creature directly into its eyes.

“so what are you then?” you asked, courage filling you. silence hangs in the air thickly and you feel the courage you built up slipping. after what felt like forever, the voice replied, “i am the son of love, i am desire.” you could practically hear the smile on the creature’s lips. before you could respond, ask the creature what he means, you felt yourself begin to fade. the edges of your vision was getting hazy and the details of the room were becoming blurred.

almost feverishly, you wake up in your room to sketches absolutely everywhere. your room looked like someone flung papers all over the place. in front of you was a canvas, the portrait of the creature the morning you saw him on it. looking down, your hands were absolutely covered in various shades of paint. there was paint on your arms and looking in the mirror hanging on your wall, there was paint all over your face and in your hair as well.

you turned to see the scattered sketches. his eyes were looking back at you everywhere; the slight wave of his light hair. over and over and over again. what is happening? you wondered. what is this… thing? and why couldn’t you stop thinking about him, this son of love, this desire?

pulling your laptop open, you began to search the large ocean of information on the internet. you just had to know.

hueningkai shook with the need to soar through the sky. to find out why he is so drawn to this mortal human and why. and how. he could barely carry out his tasks of bringing people together when all he was thinking about was being with you. it was driving him absolutely insane. driving him completely insane not following the call of heart to you.

how stupid he was to visit your dream, it just made everything worse. hueningkai didn’t understand, his arrows shouldn’t affect him. right? he thought back to the moment he drew his arrow at you, the moment he aimed straight for your heart.

the way his own heart picked up in beat, the slight shake of his fingers. this was so unlike anything he’s ever known, ever witnessed. hueningkai needed to see you again.

ripping his eyepatch off, hueningkai scanned his surroundings, letting his bow and arrow go limp in his other hand. that’s when something caught his eye. there was a slightly transparent pink halo around him. hueningkai’s eyes widened in shock. it was the same halo that was around you when he shot his arrow.

his eye gave him the ability to see which people connected and which ones didn’t, see the red string between them. hueningkai didn’t need to use that power of his often, only on days—such as valentine’s day—when things are particularly hectic. holding up the hand with his eyepatch dangling from it, hueningkai stared down at his open hand; stared down at the string of red tied at his pinky. he stared at how the string—more like a ribbon—spread ahead of him forwards.

could the god of desire—the god of attraction, god of affection… fall in love? be in love? even experience love? at least in the way that these humans he loved to watch do? was it possible? hueningkai was afraid to let himself hope, let himself wonder, but he just had to know.

following the red ribbon, hueningkai made his way towards you. this time, he watched from the shadows casted by the cloudy morning sky as you scurried around the inside of a library, tugging the ribbon in every direction you went. hueningkai watched on curiously, he wanted so badly to get closer to you, but he knew better than to show his face.

he knew better than to see as your eyes fog over as you saw what everyone else saw, the thing you most desired. the person who you wanted him to be, to look as. he knew better than to break his own heart. you would never see hueningkai as himself.

but he just had to get to know you. even without the red string of fate tying you together, without hueningkai’s arrows, you still piqued his interest. your beauty was unmatched, and the more he watched you through the library window, the more he was curious about your personality as well. hueningkai decided that he would meet you again in person, not face to face, but as close as he can get.

hueningkai decided that instead of beating around the bush like he did in your dream, that he would answer your questions, and even ask some of his own. maybe the two of you could get to know each other? i mean, it’s only a matter of time.

you couldn’t focus on the book you were reading. the quiet, relatively empty, library was too loud—too bustling. you couldn’t focus with all the thoughts of him running rampid in your mind. it also didn’t help that you felt eyes on you again—his eyes. you knew that somewhere, he was watching you.

if you were honest, you couldn’t say you hated the attention. at least, not from him. it was strange, you weren’t one to want to be the center of attention, but you found yourself wanting to be the center of his attention. his eyes on you almost felt… comforting? refreshing? like a warm blanket on a cold day; a sip of ice cold water on a hot one.

it also helped that you now knew his true name; cupid. or that’s what your books and the internet say anyways. to you, he didn’t look like some baby with wings waving a bow and arrow around. you didn’t even see a bow and arrow, not that you saw much of him at all because of his large wings. but knowing his true name had to mean something, right?

you wanted to meet him again, see him again. it was as if you craved it. as if you’ve been waiting all your life for it and now that you’ve had a taste you’re ravished. but you didn’t know how to see him again, or if you even could for that matter. you assumed that your next meeting—and probably future ones, as well—were entirely up to him.

looking up at your spot from the wide desk, you stared out into the open library window. stared into the shadows where you saw absolutely nothing, but felt his presence. you lifted your head up high and dared to do what one should never do.

“cupid,” you mouthed, eyes staring intently into the dark. you could practically feel his smile. it was like a tingle up your spine. you could feel your heart pick up pace as his gaze burned into yours, even without seeing him.

putting your head in your hand as you leaned on the desk, you tried to act unbothered but it felt like every cell in your body has electrified, every individual hair standing up on end. then, the heaviness of his gaze had suddenly disappeared and you knew that he was gone.

slumping onto the desk, you inhaled deeply. could it be true? you were being haunted by the cupid, god of desire? you? this all felt unreal, and if you hadn’t had as many encounters with cupid himself that you’ve had thus far, you would’ve written it off. there’s a part of you that still wants to.

every interaction felt loaded. his honeyed voice still rang in the back of your mind, even with how distorted he no doubt made it. every interaction made you want more of him—need more of him. you had to see him. jesus, it’s only been a day and you felt like you were already starting to fall for him. him—cupid. it all seemed so ironic, like a big joke.

you put the books away and made your way home. the ball was in his court now. or should you say: the arrow was in his quiver? it was up to him how this whole relationship forming between the two of you continued, but you hoped you saw him again.

when night fell, you cuddled up in your bed early. perhaps he would come to you in another dream? you squeezed your eyes shut in the pitch black darkness of your room. it seemed like you laid there like that for forever, beckoning sleep, when you suddenly heard the light flap of wings against the wind. you had forgotten that you left your window open to let the cool night air in.

your eyes shot open and immediately looked towards the window. there was nothing there. how could that be? you distinctly heard wings, and you knew that no bird's wings around the area you lived in carried that kind of sound.

“you cannot look upon me…” you heard his voice trail off, barely above a whisper. you had to strain your ears slightly to hear it, but it was the same voice from your dream. only this time, less off-putting and disembodied. “it would not be good for the both of us,” he—cupid, continued.

you sat up in your bed, squinting your eyes for any glimpse of him you could manage even if he said that it wasn’t good. “why not? are you hideous?” you asked him, genuinely curious. cupid’s laugh carried through the window and to your ears, “that’s not possible. i thought you knew who i was? you dared to utter my name, didn’t you?”

“you are cupid, yes?” you asked him. cupid hummed softly in response. “since that is your true name, why must i not see your face? will i be blinded by your beauty?” you felt bothersome asking him so many questions, but what else were you supposed to talk about? how was your day? how many arrows did you shoot through the hearts of mere mortals and immortals alike?

there was a clear smile in his voice as cupid responded, “something of the sort… but cupid is not my true name.” your brows furrowed and you swung your legs over the side of the bed, blanket discarded to the side. in response, your body shivered slightly from the sudden exposure to the cold air. “then… then what is it?” you inquired. everywhere you looked, it said that cupid was his name. if not cupid, then what?

it was silent for a few moments and for a second you thought that he had left when he suddenly spoke, “knowing my true name isn’t safe, not yet. but, you may call me cupid. do i get to know yours?” a smile formed on your lips and you felt your face heat up against the cool air. he was just asking your name, what were you so flustered? “y/n…” you replied. “my name is y/n.”

“y/n…” cupid said, trying your name on his lips. you felt the tingle of his smile. you almost melted from your name coming from his mouth. “what a beautiful name,” he added. muttering out a thanks, you hid your burning cheeks with your hands. thankfully, the room was dark enough that he couldn’t see it, at least you hoped. you didn’t really know how gods worked, didn’t even know they were a real thing until cupid appeared in front of you.

cupid would come every night since then, just behind the barrier of your open window and pressed against the shadow of the night. the two of you would get to know each other—well, he would mainly get to know you and you would get some additional information or corrections on the things you could find about him on the internet and at the library.

“did you really shoot a lead arrow at that nymph?” you asked him. you had dared to sit just below the window, your back pressed to the wall against it as you stared into the darkness of your room. his voice came from overhead, and you could tell he was leaning above you, watching your figure. “it wasn’t one of my proudest moments…” cupid trailed, his voice closer than ever before, although there was some playfulness in his tone. “i felt really bad for what happened to her after. but it was so long ago, i haven’t even thought about it in a while…”

how badly you wanted to look up at him, climb through the window onto the fire escape and look into his eyes, but this was your compromise. cupid was watching you intently, like he always did, and you knew that once you saw his face it was over. your eyebrows raised, “and just how old are you?”

you knew that was a somewhat stupid question. he was a god, he was probably here when the earth had dinosaurs or whatever. in any case, he was definitely older than you were. “old enough,” he chuckled and you swear he held your heart in his hands right then and there. you couldn’t deny the feelings you had for him anymore.

a breeze flew through the open window and your body reacted with a shiver. “if you’re cold, go lay under the blankets. you don’t have to sit under the window,” cupid spoke, voice deep with worry. you shook your head and wrapped your arms a little tighter around yourself, “i want to talk to you… and i can barely hear you all the way over there. i’ll be fine!”

cupid let out a sigh, “i can come inside, if you want…” you tried not to let the smile creep over your face at the thinly veiled shyness in his voice. you nodded, “okay!”

“close your eyes and take a couple steps forward,” cupid spoke and you obeyed his demands. behind you, you could hear the screen part of your window opening and closing. you could hear his light footsteps come towards you. goosebumps trailed up your skin and you gripped the fabric of your pajama pants to keep your hands from shaking in anticipation.

you felt as warm hands found their way to your shoulders and again you resisted the urge to turn around and stare. another shiver ran up your spine, only this time it wasn’t from the chill. “still cold?” cupid asked. his hands trailed down your bare arms and to your waist, leaving more goosebumps. you felt as your body warmed at his touch.

this was the first time you had ever been so close. the first time that you both have even touched, and you weren’t gonna ruin it. squeezing your eyes firmly shut, you barely managed to nod, even though the coldness was now completely gone from your body. you still wanted him near you.

humming, cupid snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you towards him. his ivory wings wrapped around the two of you, enveloping you in its warmth. you sighed lightly as you sank into his touch. the two of you stayed like that for a while, his arms and wings around you and his head resting on top of yours.

“it’s hueningkai,” cupid had whispered after a long bout of silence. you had begun to fall asleep in his arms but his voice woke you right back up. “hm?” you hummed, confused. “my true name,” he spoke. “it’s hueningkai, but you can call me kai.” you smiled widely, so happy you were about to burst at the seams. “okay, kai,” you whispered back.

kai moved his face down so you were almost cheek to cheek. you felt him smile. “sleep, my dear.” melting at his words, you pouted slightly at how he moved his wings from around the two of you. you dared to crack open your eyes and saw the first beams of sunlight sneak into your room and the wisps of blonde hair in your peripheral.

“but… i’m not tir—“ you were cut off by a yawn that you couldn’t fight even if you tried and you mentally kicked yourself. kai’s chuckle was in your ear and he pressed a kiss to your cheek, immediately setting the skin underneath on fire. “i’ll see you tonight,” is all kai said before guiding you gently to your bed. you had gotten into it, facing away from him the entire time with your eyes once again shut, and curled up under the covers.

kai pressed another kiss to your temple and you heard his retreating footsteps towards the window. “sleep well,” he said before you heard the opening and closing of the screen of your window. then, somehow, you heard the closing and locking of the glass part of your window. you didn’t even bother questioning it, most likely part of whatever powers he had, as you drifted off to sleep.

that was the only problem with seeing cupid—hueningkai. it was only at night where he was sure that you couldn’t see his face. you even took extra measures to ensure that, facing away from him in the darkness and even closing your eyes at some points, not wanting his visits to come to an end. he always left before sunrise could peek its way over the horizon, and always came back just as the last house fell into shadow.

the next night, the world was darker thanks to the new moon. kai was back inside the four walls of your room, this time near the window of your room as you laid on the edge of your bed wrapped in your blanket. he had allowed you to look in his direction freely, not that you could see even his silhouette anyways. your bedroom felt like the void and it made you nervous that he would slip away.

“can you come closer?” you asked sheepishly, voice quiet against the night. “there’s so much distance between us and the heavy darkness is making me feel disconnected.” you heard kai’s light laugh trail closer and closer to you, “is that so?”

once he was just mere inches from where you laid on your bed, kai asked, “how close do you want me?” your cheeks flushed in slight embarrassment. there wasn’t anything flirty about the way he said that sentence, he seemed genuinely curious, but the fact that he was willing to be this close to you showed progress. you decided to be bold and scooted over in your bed. “can you get in?” you asked shyly, regret immediately pouring into you.

what if he said no? or worse, what if he left? what if he—

kai slid into the bed next to you, wings tucked tightly flat against his back. you felt him look over to you in the dark. “close enough?” he asked. there was a hint of a smirk in his voice. he leaned in towards you, until your noses were centimeters from each other. “or do you want me to get closer?” kai asked lowly.

you swallowed hard and hoped he didn’t hear. slowly, you moved closer to him and laid against his chest. you then tried not to smile at the quickening of his heart. kai moved to put the blankets over the two of you and then wrapped his arms around you. you heard soft humming in your ears and you didn’t know whether it was kai who was humming or if he was making you hear humming like he made the music play in your dream.

fighting against sleep, you moved to look up at him. although you couldn’t see him, you could feel his stare back on you. you raised your hand up to his face and let the pad of your thumb trail across his cheek. kai jolted ever so slightly at first, but let you continue.

in the darkness, you tried your best to map out his features. his cheeks, the curve of his nose, and plumpness of his lips. kai’s eyes closed as you ran your thumb lightly over his eye and felt his eyelashes.

the two of you said nothing, and slowly you dozed off with your hand cupping his cheek. the lace of his collar tickled your chin as you curled into him closer. in the morning, hueningkai was gone once again.

as hueningkai aimed the pink arrowhead at his target’s heart, his mind was completely on you. how close the two of you were last night to the point where you were curled up against him, breathing softly as your hand rested against his face. his heart had been drumming to the beat of a thousand drums and he was sure that you heard it.

with his entire being, hueningkai wanted to see you in a scenario that wasn’t the two of you in the pitch black. although he could see in the dark way better than mortals could, he wanted to see your face in the sunlight. in the candlelight—in some type of light. hueningkai wanted to watch as your features brightened even more with the introduction of light. he wanted to see your smile in all of its glory.

but he was afraid. afraid that you would see him as something he’s not. that you would start praising features he didn’t have. hueningkai was absolutely terrified that when you described what you liked about him, you would start describing someone else. but the need you see you in a different setting—the desire, knocked the wind out of him and consumed his thoughts. so as he let his arrow pierce through another heart, he made the decision of a lifetime.

hueningkai was going to show you his face.

as the last ray of sunlight fell below the horizon, he flew to your apartment building. just as the night devoured the daylight, hueningkai landed gently onto your fire escape. he opened your unlocked window and stepped lightly into the abyss of your bedroom. he watched as you turned to where you would assume his figure to be, and you surprisingly made eye contact with him. “hi, hueningkai!” you beamed with a warm smile that lit up your features.

“y/n, my love,” hueningkai had replied, his own smile taking over his face. he felt all his stress and worry of the day fall off of him just at the sound of your voice, his name coming from your lips. hueningkai extended a hand out towards you even though he knew you could see it. “i have something important to show you, will you follow me?”

you didn’t think twice as you got up from your bed and made your way towards him by the window. somehow, you found his hand in the dark and intertwined the two of them together. hueningkai helped you out of your window, making sure to close and lock it with a wave of his hand, and pressed you close to his chest. in turn, you wrapped your hands around his waist, gripping onto the back of his white lace top.

once he made sure you were secure and you wouldn’t come to any harm, hueningkai took off with you in his arms and into the night.

landing in the grand hall of his palace, hueningkai made sure that you were completely steady on your feet before letting you go. you had cracked your eyes open, no doubt noticing the light coming through your eyelids, and kept your eyes downcast as you turned away. you then looked up at the intricacies of hueningkai’s palace.

“it’s even more beautiful in person,” you mumbled. “so are you, my love,” hueningkai said, smiling at the back of your head. you scoffed playfully and shook your head, “you’re so lucky i can’t turn to look at you right now…”

hueningkai took your hand and guided you up the grand staircase to his wing of the palace when his bedroom resided. he wanted this moment to be special, just between the two of you, and didn’t want to be disrupted by any of the palace staff. you followed behind him, gasping and remarking on all of the detailed carvings and of the silver and gold accents as the two of you moved from hallway to hallway.

once the both of you had reached hueningkai’s bedchambers, he began to hesitate. what if everything went wrong? crashed and burned and crumbled? hueningkai couldn’t bear the thought of you desiring another. not when his heart was so full of you and only you that it was about to explode. not when all he wanted was to be by your side for forever. not when he loved you so much and so deeply—something he thought he was never capable of—that to lose you now would break him completely. strip him of his immortality and throw him to the darkness down below.

hueningkai couldn’t do it, he couldn’t show you his face like he had planned. at least, not tonight. he would try again tomorrow—but tonight, tonight he was all yours and you were all his.

“what did you want to show me?” you had asked him softly, keeping your back to him as you looked around. taking your hand, hueningkai led you to the bed and curled you up against him. with another wave of his hand, the candles snuffed out. “the change of scenery. thought that you might like being somewhere else for a change.” hueningkai pushed out, feeling guilty.

you smiled as you nodded. “can you stay with me, kai? until at least the early morning?” you then asked quietly, barely above a whisper. your hands gripped the fabric at the sides of hueningkai’s waist in a silent plea. how could he say no to you? “i will,” he whispered, pressing kisses to your eyelids. “when you wake, i’ll still be here. i promise.” it was the least hueningkai could do. and tomorrow, i will show you my face, he thought.

the two of you fell asleep that way, your chests rising and falling together in sync. hueningkai was determined to keep both of his promises. he just hoped that when you saw him, you didn’t see another. that he wasn’t see-through.

in the middle of the night, hueningkai felt you shift but thought nothing of it. he thought that you had just moved to a more comfortable position. his suspicion rose, and he started to wake up from his sleep a little, when he felt warmth near his skin. suddenly, something hot dripped onto his cheek. opening his eyes, he reared backwards, eyes wild as his back hit the wall.

there you stood, a lit candle dripping wax in your hand and a severely guilty look on your face. hueningkai’s first instinct was to flee, and he wasn’t thinking clearly. he launched towards the door when you yelled out, “wait!”

your voice barely registered in his mind. that was until you cried out, “hueningkai, please!” hueningkai stopped dead in his tracks, completely frozen by your beautiful voice. slowly, he turned to you in the light of your lit candle, his wing covering his face.

“i’m so sorry! i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to, curiosity took over me and the next thing i knew, i was hovering over your face with this candle. it wasn’t my intention to disrespect you or to put the both of us in danger. truly, i don’t know what’s gotten into my mind—“ you rambled as hueningkai turned completely, tucking his wings behind him. you cut yourself off mid-sentence, breath hitching.

hueningkai closed his eyes—or the eye that wasn’t covered—as he prepared himself for the heartbreak he was about to face. for you to see someone else. he jolted as he felt your hand cup his cheek. agonizingly slow, he opened his eyes to make contact with yours, his brows deeply knitted together.

you reached up and pulled away the eyepatch, letting it drop to the floor. not once did you take your eyes of his. hueningkai’s confusion deepened when he didn’t see the glassy look in your eyes. instead, the were clear as they moved from his eyes to the rest of his face.

fluttering his eyes closed at your touch, hueningkai felt as your fingertips glided over his eyelids. he opened them when they traveled down to his nose and cheeks and then rested for a moment at his lips. hueningkai could feel the pink spreading across his cheeks.

your eyes were wide, soaking up as much of him as you could take. your fingers then reached up to run through his fair hair. “i almost got your eyes right. they’re a lot warmer in person…” you had trailed, fingers moving back down to his lips. “and your lips are way more pink that i was expecting. around your eyes too, even though they’re the one feature i did see.”

hueningkai let out a soft sigh as he practically melted into your touch. nobody has ever seen him for him before, nobody. nobody except for you. you’re the only one who didn’t look at him with foggy eyes of glass, spewing random things about how he looked that weren’t true.

everything was too much for him at that moment and hueningkai pulled you close to him and into a feverish kiss that he wanted to do for so long. all he needed was your lips on his and the world made sense again. hueningkai now understood how and why mortals have gone mad by love. all because of you. all because of how much he loves you.

your hands grabbed hueningkai’s face as he deepened the kiss. both of your mouths worked together in perfect harmony, and when you pulled away, lips plumped and breaths heavy from lack of air, your lips were back on each other’s before you could even get a full breath in.

pulling away as you inhaled deeply, you and kai looked into each other’s eyes like the two of you were the only things that mattered at this moment. “i love you, hueningkai,” you had spoken, voice confident. hueningkai smiled brightly at you like you hung the stars and the moon, “i love you, y/n.” he then pressed another kiss to your lips, this one softer and less filled with need but still full of desire nonetheless.

“it was hard trying to draw you based on only your eyes and hair and what i got from touching your face, but it seems i was pretty accurate!” you exclaimed, smiling sheepishly. hueningkai hummed, “you’ll have to show me in the morning!”

hueningkai wrapped his arms around you tightly and you clung to him just as tight back. he had no plans of ever letting you go.

permanent taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @rapmonie2047 @riaawr

(divider credit to fairytopea!)

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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 2 years ago

Text

Twisted Wonderland Characters Signing Your Shirt

So when I was in primary school, on the very last day of term, the year 6 leavers would sign each other's white school polo shirts with felt tips as a sort of parting gift before we all went our separate ways to secondary school. I thought it might be cool if the reader shared this tradition with her friends at NRC.

Warning: I write reader as female

I literally had no idea what to write for bat grandpa and Silver so I just didn’t write them. In return, I’ll add snippets of Trein, Crewel, Vargas and Sam

Word Count: 8k+

Masterlist

Despite the comfort you felt with your friends in Twisted Wonderland and the obvious collective effort that your fellow students showed in making you feel at home in this strange new world, sometimes it did strike you just how different your current abode was - well, barring the universal use of magic that was so common that even infants were capable of it, of course. Such instances when your geographical displacement was most apparent was when you were reminded that there seemed to be little to no shared holidays between your world and this. For example, whilst Halloween did exist here, the concept of Christmas, Easter and Valentine’s Day didn’t - and neither did Mother’s or Father’s Day or even the smaller holidays like International Best Friends’ Day. It made you wonder if this world had any holidays or traditions that yours didn’t. This exact conversation starter was how you found yourself sitting cross legged on the floor of Ramshackle with your fellow first year friends as you all discussed different traditions that you’ve all partaken in (when in fact you were supposed to be using this timeframe to be studying for an upcoming assessment).

“You know,” you mused out loud, “my primary school had this tradition where on the very last day, all of the leavers would sign each others’ shirts.”

“Really?” Deuce looked at you with sparkling wide eyes, and leaned forward slightly, as if he was hanging onto every word you said and was careful that he would miss a single syllable that came out of your mouth despite sitting less than two feet away from you.

“Yep. It was basically as a parting momentum we’d give each other to show our support even if we are parting ways and may never see each other again. I still have mine hanging in my wardrobe at home. By the end of the day, it was covered in so many felt tip marks that it was more colourful than white,” you gave a nostalgic smile at the memory of your eleven year old self being surrounded by your laughing and tearful classmates as they decorated each other’s polo shirts (and even some a lot of skin) with well wishes, signatures and drawings that were partly sweet, partly adoringly offensive and partly completely random and out there that you had no idea of what to make of them. It did make you wonder how they were currently doing and then it hit you - you had no way of knowing. Atleast back home, whenever you found yourself revisiting your younger years, you had the ability of picking up your phone and finding out for yourself. But here - here in this world where your friends and family didn’t exist, where your life had about as much substance as a black hole until that fateful day you appeared in front of that dark mirror - you had absolutely no way of connecting to anyone you once knew. You didn’t even have any pictures or mementos from your world to remind yourself that they were even real to begin with. How long would you be able to cling on to your memories and -

“Y/N,” Jack's voice pierced through the blurry memories as sharply and swiftly as Rook’s arrow, shattering every thought like glass and every fragment of them fell and dissolved into nothing until you found yourself out of your head and sitting in your dorm’s living room floor with Grim on your lap and your friends nearby. His face contorted with concern the second he noticed your smile going from fond to bittersweet, “are you okay?”

Were you?

“I-”

“Why don’t we do that?” Epel blurted out.

You looked at him in confusion as Jack and Deuce glared at him for his interruption (but, honestly, you were very grateful for that), tilting your head to the side, “huh?”

“The-the shirt signing thing. I never did it when I left elementary. It sounds like fun?” he looked at the other boys, “whatdya fellas think?”

“I’m in,” Ace stretched out his arms.

“Me too,” Deuce said immediately after, sitting up a little straighter.

“I’ll-I’ll join in as well,” Jack stuttered out, “just ‘cause you guys are. Not-not because it sounds fun or anything, alright.”

“Hmm,” Sebek scoffed, crossing his arms and looking down on the rest of the group with an expression that says ‘I’m very much interested but I’m not going to say that because I’m a tsundere who pledges allegiance to my large commissioned portrait of Waka-sama every morning’, “I suppose these human customs seem adequate enough for me to partake in them. If at least to ensure that you do not tread on a path that could cause a disturbance to Lord Malleus, as is my duty as his knight.”

Ace rolled his eyes, “sure, pal.”

“Everyone wait,” Grim yelled out, ��I should go first. As Y/N is my minion, she should receive the honour of getting The Great Grim’s mark first.”

When Ace and Deuce looked like they were about to argue, you silenced them with an, “alright, Grim, you can go first.”

GRIM

Since he’s so small, he couldn’t really reach that high, even though you were sitting down

He signed ‘to my favourite minion, from the great grim. P.S buy me more tuna’ at the bottom of your shirt near the hem of your shirt

He added a little simple drawing of a fish and a doodle of a small tin of tuna next to his words

Since he didn’t wear any clothes, you signed your own name with a cute little heart on the dangly end of the ribbon that made up the bow around his neck.

ACE TRAPPOLA

He and Deuce played rock, paper, scissors to decide who should go next

He had to be reminded by everyone not to write anything too big

“That means that I can barely write anything. You’re so short and small that half a sentence would take up half of your shirt,” he snarks with a teasing grin.

Deuce hit him over the head with an unimpressed look for that one

Good boy, Deuce

He uses one of his red pens to sign ‘your best friend and favourite person in the whole world who you like more than Deuce, Ace Trappola’ with a smiley face and a doodle of the ace of hearts card under under your collar, near your chest area before surveying his masterpiece and looking up at you with a smug wink

Deuce, hit him again

You signed your own name on his collar with a heart next to it

“A heart?” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, “are you trying to tell me something, prefect?”

DEUCE!

DEUCE SPADE

Baby boy is so scared

He’s so worried that he’ll ruin your shirt with something you won’t like that his hands are shaking

Protect him

After you reassure him that you’ll love whatever he does (Ace: not as much as mine, though 😏) he nods, eyes burning with determination as he braves himself and picks up a dark blue biro

He slowly and steadily writes out, in his neatest handwriting ‘you’re my best friend and I can’t imagine NRC without you. You always make me happy, Deuce Spade” with a little coloured-in spade doodle next to his name on the stomach part of your shirt (because the mere notion of idea of going any higher made his head spin and face burn)

The entire time he was diligently writing, he was looking at his handiwork with the most concentrated expression you had seen, with his eyebrows furrowed with great attention and care whilst his tongue stuck out slightly from between his teeth

He does know that this is supposed to be a fun little activity, right? He knows that he’s not signing his last will and testament (of course he does. In his mind, this was way more important)

“That’s great, Deuce. I love it.” you smiled softly at him when he finished

He perks up at the praise before blushing and looked down, his pink face conveying how bashfully pleased he was that he didn’t mess up

He’s so going to tell his mother about this during their nightly phone calls

“Thank you, Y/N,” he shyly smiles back at you

You place your own signature on his shirt as he looks on at you with still pink cheeks

You beam at him after punctuating your name with a small little hear

“You didn’t say anything about miiinnee ~”

FOR GOD’S SAKE, ACE-

JACK HOWL

No, his tail is most definitely not wagging in excitement when he approaches you with a gel pen in hand so shut up

No one said a word, wolfy

Writes a swift ‘keep up the good work. Jack Howl’

A simple wolf, our Jack is

Please ignore the red blossoming along his cheeks and nose and the still wagging tail as he doodles a little cactus next to his name

You give him a smile as you sign your own name on his shirt and add a little smiley face next to it

You can still see some red peeking out from under his hand as he covers the lower half of his face with his palm, his tail wagging like crazy

You swear that you can hear a faint little “thank you”

EPEL FELMIER

“Hell, yeah! Move aside, losers, it’s my turn!”

*coughs and clears throat* “ahem, I mean - it’s my turn to sign your shirt, prefect.”

Uses his dark purple gel pen to sign his name and draws an apple next to it

Pretends that he isn’t elated to see your name on his shirt

Is planning to proudly wear that shirt to Vil’s etiquette lessons, propriety be damned

Is also whooping and punching the air the second he’s out of sight

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

He strides towards you all stiff and square-shouldered

Signs ‘Sebek Zigvolt, loyal knight and retainer of His Glorious Majesty Lord Malleus, the beloved and awe-inspiring fae prince of the noble kingdom of Briar Valley. It is he who I pledge my eternal loyalty and allegiance to and it is my greatest honour to die in his name.”

You had to stop him from writing a whole essay on your shirt (complete with book references) about the might of the esteemed prince who you once found sulking in the woods because Lilia ate all of his ice cream during a Call of Duty session with Idia

He loudly explains to you that it is of poor taste to allow a human to sully the uniform of the great Waka-sama’s dorm as it is unheard of for a knight to appear as anything less of perfection as his attire reflects the power of his future king-

Uh, alright crocodile boy but why are you leaning closer to me?

You sign your name really small on his shirt so that it’s not immediately visible and only those who know where it is find it.

He doesn’t know why his heart is beating much faster at the sight of this magicless human’s name. Clearly he has contracted an illness. Quick, he must go to Lilia at once and remedy the issue lest Lord Malleus finds out.

CATER DIAMOND

Once you bid your friends farewell, you, Grim, Ace and Deuce, make your way to Heartslabyul for that afternoon’s unbirthday party

The students were still setting up the tables and food in the rose garden so the dorm leader and vice dorm leader weren’t present

Cater senses the four of you approaching as he finishes painting the last of the roses red and his eyes immediately dart to your shirt

“Hey, Y/N-chan. What’s with the get-up?”

You explain how it’s a tradition in your world to sign each other’s shirts and how your friends wanted to do it for themselves

“Aww, no fair,” he pouts at you, “Cay-kun wants to join in on the fun too.”

You offer him a pen, “you’re more than welcome to add your signature, Cater-senpai.”

He grins at you and writes a funky ‘Cater Diamond’ with doodles of the cartoony smiling four diamonds on his phone case on your shirt. Underneath his name he adds his magicam and other social media usernames.

“Well, Y/N-chan?” he sing-songs, twirling the pen around with his index and middle fingers the same way a drummer would a drumstick, “what do you think?”

“I love it, Cater-senpai,” you reply happily

He joyfully pats your head, “anything for my favourite underclassman”

Ace and Deuce: we’re here too, you know 🧍🧍

“Now smile for the camera,” he chirps, holding out his phone to take a selfie of him gesturing towards the area of your shirt with his name on it

After you quickly jot down your own name on his collar before running off to help with the party preparations, he takes a selfie of himself and then spends a bit more time gazing upon your smiling face on his screen before making a post

#HangingOutWithMyFavouriteUnderclassmen #ShesTheBest #WhenACuteGirlAsksYouToSignSomethingYouSignIt #SheLooksReallyPrettyWithMyNameOnHerThough #ImNeverWashingThisShirtAgain

TREY CLOVER

Comes out before Riddle to make sure that everything is set

And to see if you’re Ace and Deuce are here

Immediately notices the shirt and wants in on it

Uses one of his edible pens that he just happens to be carrying to write his name with a cupcake and clover drawn next to it

“Here you go, Y/N,” he says as he gives you the ‘I’m the responsible and reliable senpai even though you and I both very well know that I am capable of causing the most chaos here’ smile

Pats your head after you return the favour

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

You’re the first thing Riddle notices the moment he enters

Has to take a second to gather his bearings when he sees you smiling when you notice his arrival

At this point he’s gotten used to the teasing smile Cater shoots him when he’s in your proximity but that doesn’t mean he has to DO IT EVERY TIME HE’S GOT A REPUTATION

In Riddle’s head: Y/N’s here 😊 I must greet her with the grace every gentleman must have when they meet a lovely lady like her. Perhaps I should point out how wonderful it is for her to join us. Or personally escort her to a seat as I comment on how happy her presence here has made me.

What Riddle says: What has happened to your shirt 🤨

Don’t worry, Riddle. You tried your best

You apologetically tell him how it’s your fault since Ace and Deuce were trying to cheer you up and then Cater and Trey wanted to join them so you’ll take full responsibility if they broke any rules

“Well,” Riddle states primly, “there’s no rule forbidding it but bear in mind that I shall not accept you making a habit of unkempt attire. As Heartslabyul students and prefects both you and them are expected to possess a certain standard of decorum.”

“Does that decorum include personally fixing the prefect's tie in the middle of a busy public corridor in broad daylight?” Ace asks innocently

Riddle shoots him a sharp glare as he puffs up with anger

Before he can open his mouth, Trey swoops in to save Ace’s neck and Riddle’s vocal chords as he suggests that the unbirthday party should commence and then tells Cater to stop filming and put his phone down

The entire time you swear that you can feel someone gazing at you when you aren’t watching but every time to turn to look in Riddle’s direction, you notice that he’s looking elsewhere whilst Cater and Trey give each other knowing looks

When everyone has finished cleaning up afterwards, Riddle catches you and Grim on your way back and politely asks you if you could join him in the common room

You agree and set Grim down so he can trouble Ace and Deuce

When you get there he stiffly stammers something about wanting to know more about the shirt situation

How someone can be both poised and shy you have no idea but it’s adorably endearing

After you explained how it’s something friends do back in your world, he gets this contemplative look on his face as he looks down and twiddles his fingers before shyly asking if it would be alright if you permitted him to sign your shirt as well

Once you give an enthusiastic reply he gets out one of his fancy rich boy fountain pens and elegantly signs his name somewhere near your shoulder blades, his face burning the entire time

“If it’s alright with you, I could do the same back,” you offered, “I signed everyone else’s shirts but since you’re the dorm leader, I’d understand that it would be improper for me to-”

“No!” he blurts out, startling both you and himself. The red hue on his face gets even darker once he realised what he had just done and clears his throat before continuing in a tone that is much more controlled yet still a tad shaky, “no, I-I’d be honoured if you wanted to do so.”

So you take the pen he offered you from his outstretched hand and sign your name on his collar like you did the others

“Well, I’ll see you soon, Riddle-senpai. I hope you take care,” you smile at him before bowing your head slightly and walking out of the room to rescue Heartslabyul from whatever Grim had done

Riddle stared at the doorway from which you left from for a considerable amount of time before looking down at the hand where your fingers grazed his when you reached for the pen

He smiled slightly before shaking his head and composing himself. Then he marched out to supervise his dormmates

RUGGIE BUCCHI

This sneaky little hyena catches you during one of his errands

He finds you on his way to deliver lunch to a certain lazy lion

Was about to pawn off the job to you but catches the names on your shirt before he hears a lightbulb go off in his head

“Shi shi shi. It seems like our prefect has been busy.”

Without even asking for an explanation, he asks if he could sign it

Throws in some hopeful puppy eyes to ensure you say yes

You don’t need to do that Ruggie. To quote my non-twst friend when I showed hyena boy’s picture to her: I would commit arson for you

Honestly he’s only doing this 60% because he wants to and 40% because he knows that it would annoy Leona

You hand him the pen you have been carrying and he scribbles on his name with a picture of a sprinkle covered doughnut next to it

He then asks you to do the same to him

You comply, noticing how his tails wags excitedly behind him

You then offer to bring Leona his lunch to give him a break, which he hastily agreed to

After you leave he wonders if he could sell this shirt to one of your simps before immediately scrapping that idea since he decides it’s not worth it this time

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

It took you a while to shake him ‘awake’

I say ‘awake’ in inverted commas because the second he hears footsteps in the botanic garden his ears perk up and he tries to determine if the scent from the incoming person is yours. If it is, he’s wide awake

But he’s also a jerk so he’s not going to make this easy for you

He’s internally smirking whenever he hears you’re irritated little huffs as you try to wake him up

The he considers that he should maybe throw you a bone so he opens his eyes only to see the names of your first year friends , those uptight Heartslabyul students and his own second in command on you

Something about that does not sit right with him and he has to fight back a possessive growl

At least he can’t see the names of that stuck up beauty queen and - god forbid - that stupid lizard

“You some to have something on you, Herbivore,” he drawls as he lazily flicks his eyes towards your face

Like you did to everyone else, to explain how it’s a thing in your world to sign your classmates’ shirts

At this he gets up, whilst maintaining eye contact, and takes one stride so that he’s right in front of you

Excuse me sir, we like to respect personal space here

Unless you’re a Twisted Wonderland character then no we don’t

“Does that mean you marked other people with your name?” he asks you with a tone that you can’t quite put your finger on but can definitely tell has hints of annoyance

You just look at him in silence, completely off guard by his proximity and out of the blue question

“Well?” he leans down closer to you

“Oh, um, yeah. I guess”

He just hums in reply before holding out his palm

You just look down at it before giving him a perplexed look

“Pen,” he says, “now.”

You place your pen in his hand before he immediately crouches down and writes ‘LEONA KINGSCHOLAR’ in block letters that seemed to be a bit larger than everyone else’s names

He holds out your pen, “your turn.”

“Oh, okay”

The minute you finish writing your name you he stands back up at his full height, green eyes gleaming with mirth

“You know, Herbivore,” he holds up your chin so you get a full view of his smirking face, “I can think of plenty of other ways I could mark my territory if you're ever up for it.”

He gives your head a pat, remarking “you know where to find me” before yawning and sauntering off to god knows where with one hand in the front pocket of his trousers and his tail swinging lazily behind him

…

You just blink at his retreating figure in confusion

“Oookaayy,” you drone out to yourself and then you make your way out of Savanaclaw as Grim mutters something about weird predators

JADE AND FLOYD LEECH

“KOEBI-CHAN! :D”

Oh dear, it seems as if Floyd has found you for his daily accosting

You know that there is no way you can run from an eel so you just brace yourself with closed eyes as you hear the grunts, groans and shouts of several students being pushed out of the way as Floyd makes his way towards you for his completely necessary squeezing the life out of you hugging session

You open your eyes the second you feel those arms glomp you as you give the eel twin a smile, “hello, Floyd-senpai.”

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Jade casually strolling along the path that his brother had cleared with a pleasant smile on his face, completely ignoring the still groaning students on the corridor’s floor

“Good afternoon, dear prefect,” he greets you politely as you feel Floyds arms wrap tighter around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your neck, “I see that you’ve run into quite a few students on your way here - if your shirt is anything to go by.”

“Huh,” Floyd lets go of you and notices Riddle’s name at the back of your shirt. He then turns you around to inspect the front of your shirt only to be met with the names of all of these bottom feeders

“Hey,” he pouts at you accusingly, crossing his arms in displeasure, “how come koebi-chan let goldfish and crabby and sea lion and all these other fish write all over her and not us. I wanna write on koebi-chan too.”

Jade gave a fond sigh at his brother’s whining before turning to you with a gentlemanly smile that barely concealed the grin of a predator, “I must say, dear prefect, I’ve got to agree with my brother here. It does seem very unfair for you to allow others to enjoy this event and not us. I feel rather hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Floyd nods, “koebi-chan should let us write on her.”

“And what luck,” Jade piped up, taking a pen out of his pocket (though you had the strange suspicion that it was used less for writing and more for some weird torture technique that he and his brother liked to dish out), “it appears that I have a pen in my possession. Now, you will allow us to do so, right prefect?”

You knew for a fact that even if your brain decided to take a holiday and leave you to enter the boundless void of nothingness that inhabited your mental stability you would not even think to refuse him

“Alright then,” you said slowly and both of their faces lit up

“Me first, me first,” Floyd gleefully snatched the pen from his twin’s hand and bounded over to you, writing his name in big bold letters on your right sleeve. Underneath it he drew a picture of his eel form and a cartoony shrimp with arrows pointing towards both figures saying ‘ME!! :)’ AND “SHRIMPY!”

Jade then took the pen from his brother and wrote his own name on your left sleeve with a drawing of an anatomy correct shiitake mushroom under it. He then labeled different the different structures with their biologically correct scientific names

“Now write on us,” Floyd demanded, so you took Jade’s pen and did just that.

After he pocketed his pen, he turned to the other eel with a mischievous grin, “You know, Floyd. I believe Azul would love to see our dear prefect. What do you think?”

Floyd matched his brother’s expression with an even more unhinged one of his own, “yes, yes. Let’s go.”

And with that, the both of them each take a firm hold of each one of your shoulders and began to stir you to the Mostro Lounge, paying no attention to Grim, who was yelling at them about how it was his lunch time

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Due to spending almost his entire life with the Leech twins, Azul was fairly accustomed to their antics - which was why he didn’t seem the least bit perturbed to the sound of the door to the VIP room slamming against the wall and Floyd’s cheerful voice loudly exclaiming “WE’RE HERE”.

He just sighed and continued to finish the sentence he was writing before looking up to greet him when he did a double take when he sway you’re slightly embarrassed self give a small smile and wave from where Floyd had you rooted with the way his arm rested over your shoulders

“Ah yes, Floyd what is-PREFECT??!!”

No his voice did not crack at the end, thank you very much

Jade gracefully stepped into the room, “Azul, Floyd and I were just admiring the prefect’s shirt and thought that you would appreciate it if we brought her here to show you ourselves.”

“Yes, what Jade said,'' Floyd nodded happily, “Jade and I both wrote our names on koebi-chan as well, see. And she wrote on us. Isn’t that great?”

Despite clearing his throat, Azul’s voice still was choked when he let out a surprised, “yes, that does look rather nice.”

The four of you spent the next minute standing in awkward silence. The eels were directing their shark-like grins on a red and embarrassed-looking Azul who seemed to look completely stumped and you just stood there having no idea what to do

“Well,” you started when the silence got too much, “I’m so sorry for barging in on you like this Azul-senpai and interrupting your work. It seems like you are really busy in the middle of something important so I’ll just head back and-”

“Wait, prefect,” Azul pushed his glasses up his nose and made his way towards you with a pen in hand, “If-if you would allow me, I would love to add my name onto your shirt.”

“Go right ahead,” you reply

Now he’s written his name hundreds of times, with the business that he runs, but for some reason him signing his name directly onto the clothing that your wearing has his heart leaping and twisting in ways that he’s never felt before

He’s lying. He’s felt that many, many times before and strangely every instance has occurred in your presence

Once he’s finished he gives you a look that very clearly expresses that he wants to ask you something

“I could sign your shirt as well if that’s okay?” you half offered half asked, thinking you might know what he wanted

He gives you a shocked look, a rosy hue painting his nose and cheeks, before clearing his throat once more

“I can’t say that I would mind terribly if you did that. Of course,” he gives you his signature businessman octopus grin, “if you would much rather sign your name on a contract, I would be more than happy to oblige.”

“Yeah, no thank you,” you deadpan. You turn around, “if that’s it then-”

“Wait,” he grabs ahold of your wrist, “actually prefect, I would very much like that.”

Your face softens and you sign your name onto his collar and left the fish mafia to practice their Godfather impressions or whatever they did behind closed doors when they weren’t dealing with the poor unfortunate souls of NRC

Unbeknownst to you, Azul immediately changed out of that shirt and kept it next to his third draft of that marriage contract he had been preparing

KALIM AL-ASIM

It was after you left Octavinelle when you remembered that Kalim had invited you to a party at Scarabia so off to his dorm you went

Almost ten seconds after you enter, you hear a shout of “Y/N!” coming from above you

“God?” you mutter under your breath as you look up and find the resident sunshine boy of the campus beaming down at you from his magic carpet

You happily give them both a joyful and hearty wave, “HI KALIM-SENPAI! HI CARPET!”

The two of them descend towards you. Kalim jumps off when it reaches a few centimetres above the ground before tackling you into a hug that was filled with unbridled merriment. Carpet, feeling lonely, latched onto the both of you as well, wrapping its tassels around the two of you and squeezed in its own version of a hug.

The two of you laughed at its enthusiasm until it let go and Kalim pulled back

“Y/N, I’m so glad you’re here,” his smile filled with pure sunshine never once left nor faltered as he looked at you with all of the joy in the world, “you’re going to love it. Everyone’s dancing and Jamil made kunafah which is really really tasty and I’m sure you’ll enjoy it and we can go for a magic carpet ride as well and - woah, your shirt looks so cool!”

You giggle at his amazement, “thank you, Kalim-senpai. In my home world, it’s a tradition to sign your classmates’ shirts when you leave school so

“Wait, you’re not leaving are you?” he gives you the saddest tearful golden retriever puppy-eyed look you had ever seen and you instantly hated yourself for being the monster that caused it, “please say you’re not. We haven’t even done half of the things I wanted to do with you. Please don’t say you’re going.”

“No, no, no,” you wave your hand erratically to show that you were most certainly not leaving, “I swear that I’m not going anywhere, Kalim-senpai. I just mentioned that to everyone and they wanted to sign my shirt for fun, that’s all. I’m staying right here, pinky promise.”

Of course, you had no way of leaving this world, what with the headmaster being a lazy idiot who makes empty promises but you didn’t say a word about that part

Kalim smiled and intertwined his pinky with your outstretched one

(Meanwhile carpet sulked because he wanted to join in on the pinky promise but he had no pinkies to promise with)

“So,” he gives you a hopeful look, “does that mean that I can sign as well?”

“Of course you can,” you smile at him.

He beams back at you, holds your hand and scampers towards his room

After bringing you inside, he rummages through his drawers until he procures some limited edition ultra deluxe sparkly golden sharpie pen that you know costs like enough to feed you for a week

He skips back towards you and signs ‘KALIM!’ all big and glittery on your back with a bunch of stars and hearts surrounding it and a smiley face to dot the exclamation mark

He then giddily hands you the pen and asks you to sign his clothes as well

You hesitate because there is no way that you are going to stain a piece of clothing that has enough zeros in its price to pay for your entire neighbourhood back home

But his hopeful/pleading face was too much for you to refuse so you did as you were asked

He now wants to buy an entire store’s worth of clothes just so that the two of you could write your names all over them

He also is so happy that he wants throw another party in your honour and hopefully make an event of having the two of you sign each others clothes

Not going to lie, he’ll probably commission the best painters in the Scalding Sands to make a giant portrait of his shirt so that he can hang it up in his rooms (no that’s not a typo) and show it to his parents, his siblings, his aunts and uncles, his cousins, his pet elephants, his pet peacocks, that tiger he was going to ask for his birthday…

He just wants to keep the memory of this moment forever

“Woah, Y/N, that looks great! Hey, I have a bunch of other clothes in my wardrobe that you can sign, I’ll go get them-”

You had to stop him before he did something that would make Jamil pop a blood vessel or consider alcoholism (again) so you asked him if he could take you to where Jamil was

Thankfully, he agreed and happily lead you to the kitchens

JAMIL VIPER

Jamil had no idea what to feel when Kalim barged into the kitchens

On the one hand, the Scarabia kitchens were his safe haven, the one place where he could be alone without his airheaded master coming in to cause further trouble due to the fact that Kalim is forbidden from stepping foot in it so his annoyance at seeing that bright face in here was more than welcome

On the other hand, however, Kalim had brought you along. The diamond among the soiled charcoal that were his peers, the coolness of his eyes that never failed to put him at ease no matter how unreasonable Kalim’s never ending laundry list of problems became so he did admit that he felt much more relieved when he saw your smiling face pop in to say hello in that enchantingly sweet lilt

But then Kalim dragged you in and showed off all of the names that had been written on your shirt for that bitter python of annoyance that he keeps chained and shackled in his gut to start coiling around in displeasure - only for it to start hissing and biting at his stomach when Kalim happily pointed out his own name standing out on your back and your name on his shirt, it’s teeth sinking into every vein it can find and contaminating his bloodstream with that pungent envy

On the outside, he regarded all of this with the same cool and unwavering expression he usually wore but on the inside he was raging at how happily you wore everyone’s names - how you wore Kalim’s name - whilst casting him to the shadows.

He simply reminded Kalim that he was not allowed in the kitchens and he had a party to host so it was best for him to leave

Kalim turned to you and was about to ask you to come with him when you told him that you’ll stay and help Jamil and you promise to dance with him later

“Alright then Y/N, see you later,” and then he skipped away, a cloud of sparkles and flowers following him

You approached Jamil, who appeared to be a bit more tense than usual and placed your hand on his shoulder

He immediately stopped, took a breath and turned to you

“You know,” you smiled at him, “I didn’t just come here to help you cook, though I would very much like to.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “is that so, prefect? Then pray tell, why did you come here.”

“Well, you see, all of my dear friends have decided to write their names on my shirt after I explained that it was a tradition where I’m from and now that I’m here, I realise that I’m one name short.”

“Is that true?” he mused, his lips twitching ever so slightly

You nodded with the gravitas of a judge giving a sentence, “yes, it is. And you see, Jamil-senpai, the person whose name that I’m talking about happens to be someone who would never go out of his way to do something that he thinks might not be wanted - even if the receiver would very much want it - so the idea of him offering his signature like everyone else seems to be out of the question.”

“What are you trying to say, prefect?” he sighed and put his head down so that he can hide his blush by pretending to rub his temples

“What I’m saying, Jamil-senpai, is that I would absolutely love it if you wrote your name on my shirt. It just doesn’t seem right without you and having you there would delight me to no end,” you reply, taking out the pen you’ve been carrying in your pocket and holding it out to him expectantly

‘How troublesome,’ he mentally sighs, though the thought was directed not towards you but to the pleasant feeling of warmth that enveloped him whenever you were near.

Regardless, he takes the pen and signs your shirt in a manner that appears to be annoyed and rushed but anyone can clearly see that the calligraphy of his name is definitely carefully thought out with strokes that look more like artwork than a teenage boy’s signature

“So, um,” you start, “you can say no if you’d like but would you like it if I signed yours back?”

He shrugged, “I see no reason why not?”

Don’t let his perpetually controlled voice fool you, he is internally punching the air and screaming with elation at the prospect to you placing your signature on him

Usually he would hate to have another's name anywhere near him. He was already cursed with the invisible shackles of the Al-Asim family, he didn’t want any other form of ownership to strip the miniscule amount of control he had in his life. However, the idea of him belonging to you only filled him with bliss instead of the accustomed disdain

‘Oh, prefect,’ he thought, internally smirking to himself as he continued with the preparations of Kalim’s feast with your assistance, ‘the next time you want me to leave my mark on you, I may not be as gentle.’

ROOK HUNT

You swear you take one step out of the mirror chamber and into the corridor before you find yourself face to face with Tamaki Suoh’s long lost cousin, who appeared out of frickin’ nowhere

“Petite mademoiselle trickster,” he cheers, “it has come to my attention that you are going around, letting the students write on your clothing and thus I must implore you to allow me the honour of joining them in this ceremonious ritual.”

Ritua - does he think that you’ve started a cult?!

Although, to be fair, that would be the least weirdest thing that’s happened in this school

You could’ve sworn you saw a bunch of Savanaclaw students standing in a circle and chanting so cultists are not completely out of line

And Crowley’s whole bird mask and making his students wear robes does seem very cult-y

Not to mention Sebek’s whole existence

Deciding to ignore the second part of Rook’s words (a standard procedure when it comes to students dealing with the huntsman) you hand him your pen

“Please allow me to write a sonnet so that I may pour out my awe at your splendorous beauty”

Yeah, you shut that one down hard

“Ah, I see. You’d much prefer a villanelle!”

No, Rook

A ballad or an Ode?

This is going to be another Sebek situation, isn’t it?

He did end up writing something

You must admit, you were impressed that he was able to conjure up a rhyming couplet dedicated to your beauty and general existence

In iambic pentameter no less

Now if only you could get him to stay still and quiet enough for you to write on your name

Great Seven, is he crying?

I’m flattered that there tears of joy but all I did was write my name on your shirt

I’m pretty sure my handwriting looked nicer on that contract that Leona turned to ash you really don’t need to praise the heavens for my existence

Oh good, Vil-senpai, you’re here

Your huntsman is broken

I know that he most probably came like this but it’s a bit unnerving

VIL SCHOENHEIT

Vil was strutting through the hallways like NRC was a pageant and his catwalk was going to be crowned as the winner when he noticed Rook singing (yes, actually singing) your praises to you whilst you just looked at him like most people do

“Rook,” he called sharply, his high heels clicking through the corridor and the back of his royal purple robe effortlessly flaring out behind him, “I have been looking all over for you.”

“Roi du Poison!” he called out, “I was just engaging in the most splendid tradition with Petite mademoiselle trickster!”

“Ah, yes, Epel mentioned this during his etiquette lesson,” he looked down at the piece of your shirt that he was pinching between his perfectly manicured index finger and thumb, “whilst I understand the sentiment, I cannot believe you would allow these undeserving potatoes to tarnish your appearance like this.”

He huffs and pulls out a pen from one of his own pockets, “thankfully, I come prepared for situations like these. Honestly, what would you do without me? Be grateful that I’m here to save you from these unruly spudlings.”

He then signs his name onto you with complete precision, most probably from his years of experience as a renowned actor

“Now it would be unfitting for me as the dorm leader of Pomefiore to walk amongst these halls with ink stains on my uniform but I have a suitable substitute for you to use so that the criteria for your traditions have been met,” and with that he pressed an apple scented soft handkerchief into your palms

“Well,” he looked at you expectantly, “aren’t you going to sign it?”

“Oh, um, yes,” and you wrote your name on this obviously very expensive piece of cloth

“Wonderful,” Vil gave you an approving smile and took his handkerchief back before briskly turning around and walking away, calling out for his vice, “Rook!”

“Coming Roi du Poison!”

ORTHO SHROUD

You made your way to Ignihyde for your regularly scheduled gaming/anime watching session with the otaku shut in of the school

But of course you couldn’t do that without saying hi to his younger brother because not greeting Ortho when you enter the dorm of the Lord of the Underworld is a crime worthy of death

“Big sister Y/N!'' is the first thing you hear when you step into Idia’s dorm. The adorable android with flaming blue hair greeted you with stone-melting giddiness, “my scanners informed me that you have arrived! That’s great news! Big brother has been waiting for you to join us all day! In fact, my sensors picked up that his heart rate increased by 15% everytime I or he mentioned you!”

You giggled and pet the little robot’s head, “that’s nice, Ortho. Say, would you like to sign my shirt? All of my other friends have written their names on it and I would be very happy if you did too.”

“Write my name on big sister’s shirt?” Ortho’s eyes widened and he clapped with glee, “yes, yes, I would love to. Please wait a moment.”

You watched with part surprise part wonder as Ortho’s right hand transformed into a tiny laser

“Big brother has downloaded and programmed over a thousand different fonts into my database. Is there a style that you prefer?”

“Um, not really, Ortho,” you reply, “why don’t you choose?”

“Alright then, I’ll apply a random generator to select one for us.”

After doing that he floated towards you and wrote Ortho Shroud onto your back

Well, it was less ‘wrote’ and more lasered ink in straight lines to create letters the same way a laser printer would shoot ink to create an image

“Thank you, Ortho, I really appreciate it,” you smiled at him, but then frowned, “though I don’t know if I can return the favour to you the same way I did to everyone else since you’re made of metal.”

“Hehe, it’s okay big sister,” he happily replies, “I’m sure big brother would be more than happy to have you write to him instead.”

IDIA SHROUD

Y/N’S COMING Y/N’S COMING Y/N’S COMING

If anyone were to ask what our resident technological genius was thinking about for last twenty minutes it would be that

You’d think that him knowing you for more than a few weeks, you rescuing him from his own overblot and learning his entire tragic anime backstory would prepare him for every time you come near him but Idia doesn’t work on the logic of normies

Can you blame him? You were like ultra SSR tier and he was so below you it wasn’t funny

Hey, at least he managed to beat that weird french blond guy with the bow and arrow in the fight over who got to be the leader of the Y/N fan club

So when you and his brother, his two favourite people in the world, come into the sanctuary of his room with blinding smiles his heart does a one hit k.o

And what’s worse is that his body pillow is all the way over there on the bed so he can’t even sink his face into it for the comfort of darkness

And then when Ortho comes and says that you want him to sign your shirt and then do the same to you?

Well, the pink that was forming at the tips of his hair has erupted his flaming locks into a bright pink fuschia

What kind of shoujo manga otome game special edition event is this

Okay, cool, Idia, cool

He takes one peek at you and then immediately covers his face with his palms as his hair grows pinker if that’s even possible

You tell him that you understand if he’s uncomfortable so it’s okay if he doesn’t want to do it

But, you see Y/N, he does

He would very much like to take part in this event

But his social stats are lower than the bottom of the ocean

And he doesn’t think he’ll be able to level up in the next two or three decades at least

Seeing his brother’s internal plight, Ortho huffs at him to just do it

So he does it

Because he wants to, alright - not-not because he’s being shamed by his little brother

So he picks up one of his pens with a miniature funko pop of his favourite anime character on it and hastily signs his name without even looking

Thankfully he signed on a free space on your back otherwise he would never show you his face again

You ask him if he wants you to do the same to him and he passes out

Sigh, Ortho activate the defibrillators

MALLEUS DRACONIA

You meet Tsunotarou after the sun has set on Twisted Wonderland and you invite him inside of Ramshackle so that the two of you can share some tea you’ve prepared before you can start your nightly walk in the woods

He politely questions you on the state of your dress and you laugh and tell him all about how you mentioned a tradition back in your home world to your friends and how that evolved into a sort of scavenger hunt for signatures

As delighted as he is that you seem to be enjoying yourself and as thankful as he is that you were able to surround yourself with people who lift your spirits and ease your homesickness, he couldn’t help but feel a dark cloud of dread invading his mind and questioning whether or not this was another occasion that he was not invited to

“Tsunotarou?” you speak up, and hold up the pen that had accompanied you throughout this whole ordeal, “would you like to sign your name as well.”

He gives you a pleasant smile as he takes a sip of his tea, “I suppose I could, Child of Man. But that begs the question.”

You tilt your head in confusion and he internally laughs at how endearing you look, “what question?”

“On how you would like me to sign,” he gives you a smug little grin, “names are very important to the fae, you see. They’re very powerful, as well. In fact, a human giving a fae their name without thinking is often considered an act of foolishness (ouch, you could sense that subtle dig at your initial meeting but, in your defence you were new to this world and the concept of fairies and magic in general, and you didn’t even know the guy). So I would need to ask you if you would rather have me sign as the crown prince, Malleus Draconia or as the Tsunotarou that you met wandering around in the woods near your abode?”

“Is there really a difference?” you pose a question of your own, “Tsunotarou is Malleus and Malleus is Tsunotarou. To me both are the same. I know the rumours of you being powerful aren’t unfounded - I mean, you fixed the entire VDC venue in a second and called it child’s play so I can only imagine how strong you are. But the thing is, when I look at you, I don’t really see some crown prince who can destroy an island in the blink of an eye. All I see is a friend that I enjoy being in the company of - even if he can be a bit odd at times.”

“Odd? How brave of you to describe the future king in such a way. I was right in stating that you have no fear,” he teased you, eyes twinkling with mirth, “very well, I shall accept your request.”

He signs his name on you with the grace and elegance you’d expect a prince would have

You feel a slightly electric tingle from where the pen touches your skin through the fabric of your shirt and you can’t help but wonder if he had cast some sort of enchantment where his name was.

Once he has completed he hands you your pen back and you smile back at him, “I trust you, Tsunotarou. Not just because you’re my friend but also because you were one of the few who truly made me feel welcome even before we even knew each other. Actually, I trust you so much that-

You beckon him towards you, causing him to lean closer towards you. You take the pen and sign your name right on the first patch of white that you can see and reach

-that I would give you my name a hundred times without even a second of hesitation.”

ALRIGHT, TEACHER SNIPPETS: The next day, you take the shirt that you had worn the previous day and carry it around in your hands around campus so that you could ask the teachers to sign their names

PROFESSOR DIVUS CREWEL looks down at all of the names with disdain and mutters something about ‘rowdy mutts slobbering around his pup’ and something about ‘neutering’ before signing his name on your shirt with a flourish

PROFESSOR TREIN looks at you fondly and gives you one of his tea biscuits before signing his name.

COACH ASHTON VARGAS gives you a booming laugh and a hair ruffle as he gladly signs his name all big and loud with several exclamation marks and some reminder to always work out

MR SAM argues with his friends from the other side on whether or not he should add their names as well. Instead he just signs his name and draws a cute little skull next to it

P.S. Please note that, if given the opportunity, any one of the NRC boys would very gladly and willingly write their names directly onto your skin with no hesitation whatsoever.

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diecastmania · 1 year ago

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1935 Pierce-Arrow Silver Arrow Model 845 Coupe

Issued by Brooklin Models in 2005. It is 1:43 scale and crafted in white metal. A rare factory color sample-as of this date, 10/2023, 3 are known to exist. I have two of them. The model is finished in white. I've changed the 2nd one to black wall tires for a different attitude. These both are highly unique models and very special. BRK 100.

#1:43 scale #diecast #white metal #brooklin models #1935 #pierce arrow #silver arrow

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the-kr8tor · 23 days ago

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Wildflower and Barley

Pairing: Robin Hood! Hobie Brown x princess! Reader

Word count: 10.1k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, medieval au, Robin hood au, royalty au, R has unnamed parents and siblings, cw food mentions, mentions of arranged marriage, cw suggestive, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff. Part 2 of the Robin Hood au.

Navigation

Octobie 🎸

Part one <<<

Now dry and out of your sopping wet clothes, and now free of mud caking your skin, you look at the various trinkets and knick knacks littered around the small yet well decorated room. Aunt Janet was kind enough to lend you some clothes and let you stay in the treehouse which surprisingly had a wooden contraption that brings you up and down the tree without you even setting foot on the ladder. Aunt Janet told you that Hobie invented it and calls it a ‘lift’. You thought he was a genius for coming up with it. Just thinking about climbing up with that huge mess of a dress of yours gives you a headache.

The room they've temporarily put you in is cozy, the bed is carved with various woodland creatures on it with vines and swimming fishes etched on the headboard. The wooden bed is covered in soft quilt blankets piled up to make the bed softer. It's pretty, you thought. Janet and the others are nicer than any captors you've ever had. Well, except for your would be suitor, you find him annoying with his pretty eyes, handsome smile, scent that wakes the butterflies in your stomach and calloused hands that are warmer than the blazing sun— you're done for.

A knock wakes you up from your stupor, turning around, you clear your throat and thoughts of Hobie.

“You decent?” His voice almost makes you dizzy, it's either that or you have a looming concussion from your recent fall. You won't know until you see him for yourself.

“Yes, I'm dressed.”

Hobie opens the door, you notice his different outfit this time. He has leather bracers on with tiny spikes protruding on each of his wrists. His blue pants fit him better now than the clothes that you surmise he nicked from an unfortunate courtier. A blue tunic with jade green thread is stitched at the hems, and a thick belt helps cinch his waist as if it needed the help. You swallow down your loud beating heart, but it doesn't help when you spot the silver and gold piercings he now has on his ears and face. His hair is more gorgeous than ever with the silver accents weaved and placed around it like tiny stars dotted on his hair.

He raises a pierced brow, hand reaching up to place it atop the doorway to lean on it while the other hand is on his hip. His waist length cloak unfurls behind him, draping him in brilliant blue, revealing the spider stitched on the cloth. Unbeknownst to you, he's admiring you too. Now without the layers upon layers of fabric hiding you, he sees the real you without all the jewels shining in his eyes and the crown glaring down at him as if he's unworthy of your gaze. He tries to shake…whatever he's feeling but it keeps coming back to him whenever he meets with your pretty eyes.

So he plays it off casually even though he could only see you in front of him and his senses seem to dull within your presence. He just chalks it up to you being attractive in his eyes. Sure, that could only be it, right?

“See somethin' you fancy?”

“No, just staring at the bow and quiver of arrows on you. Have you finally decided to kill me? I know your aim is nothing to be scoffed at.” You don't show an ounce of fear.

Hobie snorts, “nah, just admirin’ you in my room, and coat.”

You scoff, not believing that Janet would place you in his room *and dress you in his clothes. So you turn your head away to avoid looking at him. You suddenly find an unassuming lute more interesting, or rather acting like it is. “You weren't lying about the lute. Do you still play?”

He follows your gaze towards the well loved instrument. “Yeah, d’you?”

“No, but I do know how to play the piano as it was required of me.”

He raises his chin, gesturing towards you as you cross your arms atop your chest. “If you could choose, what instrument would you like to learn?”

“Why?” You chuckle at the uncommon question.

“Just askin’ ‘m a curious lad.” He shrugs with a small smile.

“The flute probably.” You sit on the soft bed. “I always loved how it sounded.”

“I think a flute would suit you, princess.” Hobie crosses the small distance, he then sits on a stool adjacent to the bed. He's quite close to you, knees brushing along your own. But not close enough to feel how your breath hitches in your throat.

“Don't mock me, Hobie.”

He knits his brows together. “‘m not, that was genuine.”

“Alright, why do you think it would suit me?” You lean closer, elbows placed atop your thighs and chin resting on your palms.

He tilts his head with a quiet chuckle. “You have the lips for it.” You're taken aback, a satisfying reaction for him. “But do you have the lungs for it, love?”

Silence stills the air around you two as you try to breathe in and out while he waits for a response with his unreadable gaze towards you.

“...stop fucking with me.” You say with a loud scoff, standing up and hitting his knees when you walk away to face the window on the far end of the room. His chuckles continue as you put your arms on your chest, huffing and puffing away the warmth from your cheeks.

“You're easy to tease, princess.” He wipes a tear from his eye after recovering from his bout of laughter. “I didn't even know you have it in you to curse.”

You abruptly turn around. “I want to get out far away from here.”

“Is my joke that bad?” He says with a raised brow.

Sighing, you put your foot down, steely gaze staring right at him. “You saw how they treated me, I don't want to marry a stranger and become like my siblings.”

“You were ready to marry me.” He pretends to not understand. Or that's what you think, he's riling you up again to get a reaction from you.

“I was pretending so the courting would stop.” A half lie on your end. You're attracted to him, sure, but you thought that marrying him would be the lesser evil than marrying some pompous rich lord who would only treat you like a walking womb. Inhaling, you continue. “I don't want to be stuck.”

Hobie's gaze turns serious. “Is that why you barely fought back?”

You rub your face tiredly. “Yes. I don't want to end up like the rest of my siblings. I want to have a life, a life that doesn't end with me dying during childbirth or being killed because of my husband's mistress hired an assassin!”

“That sounds oddly specific.”

“Because that all happened to them. I'm a sister to ghosts.” You don't realize that a single tear is sliding down your cheek. Quickly wiping it away, you don't notice his eyes filled with empathy. “I'll tell you about the secret passages in the castle that would lead you to the royal jewels.” Hobie blinks and perks up in his seat. “in exchange, you bring me with you to grab my things—”

“As much as I want to see you lock pickin’ your way in your own castle, you'd be a liability, princess.” Hobie stands up with his hands placed on his hips.

“Without me you'll get lost in the passageways. It's a labyrinth in there, I once got lost in there for an entire day before my handmaiden found me.” You explain. “After the whole ordeal, you'll flag down a ship for me heading towards the northern territories.” Walking towards him, you face him fully with your finger jabbing him at his toned chest. “Then and only then, we'll be even.”

Hobie sniffs, nodding along. “That's all then?”

“You're not gonna ask why the north? Or ask me to map the passageways instead of coming with you?”

“Why should I ask when I already know the answer, hm?” He takes a step forward, closing in on you while your accusing finger gets trapped in between him and you; in turn, you put your palm on his chest as he smirks down at you. “I won't ask you to draw a map because I don't trust you, blue blood. As for the first part— Your royal pain in the arses don't have power over in the north ever since the rebellion. And you'll be safe there until you can hitch a ride out of the country. As long as they don't find out that you're the princess.”

You don't back down, challenging him with your head raised high. “That's why you'll forge documents for me.”

“Who says I will?”

“Well, you got into the palace, and the only way you did that was taking on the identity of some poor sap who might've stopped in the middle of the road to help some injured woman or…” you push him away, looking at him up and down without shame. He looks befuddled, but he recovers quickly, expression turning into amusement. Even enjoyment from the banter. “Some man screaming for help. Either way, he has been your mark ever since you planned this whole thing. And it wouldn't have worked without some legitimate looking papers.”

“Or we stole the papers from him when we took his clothes.” He dares you.

“You could've, but you were worried that he won't have it or it might rip during the scuffle.” You click your tongue. “Hence the dried up ink, stolen seal of the registry and hundreds of balled up parchment on top of your desk says otherwise.” a smile slowly spreads across his face, a sign that you're right. “Do you want me to tell you that I was your plan B or do I have to explain to you how I found that one out?”

“I have to train you in case shit gets hairy.” He flicks his eyes downwards and then without shame, he roams his eyes up to your determined eyes. “Whip you into shape and shed all that royal ego off of you.”

“You have to train me?”

“I don't trust anybody else with you. My closest crew could but I'll still be there watchin’” Hobie reaches for your hand, waiting for you to close the deal. “You might charm the trousers off ‘em. Do we have a deal, princess?”

“Do you agree with my terms?”

He shrugs, hand still in place. “As long as you don't leave us high and dry when the time comes.”

“I give you my word, take my tiara as a sign of my cooperation.”

“I already have it.” He flicks his eyes to his hand, fingers stretching out, still waiting. You raise a questioning brow, “fine, I pinky promise, princess.”

“Once more, but without your mocking tone.”

Hobie tamps down his laughter by biting his lip, with a sigh, he relents. It's not a bad deal, you get to leave and not snitch to your parents on where Doverhill is, and he gets the jewels to feed his people and lessen any unwanted encounters with your stealth approach.

“Deal,” taking your hand, he shakes it.

“Good, when do we start?” You say with determination in your eyes.

—

Your face hits the mud covered ground with a resounding smack. Your audience cheers and Mayday’s giggles egg you on to stand up despite your face full of thick mud clinging to your cheeks.

“C’mon now, princess, it was just a shove!” Yuri teases you some more as she stands behind you.

Lifting up your head, you see Hobie leaning on the fences while munching on an apple casually. “Told you to dodge.”

You lift yourself up by your elbows, muddled eyes glaring at him. “I thought you were supposed to train me!”

“I am.” He takes a juicy bite from the fruit. “I didn't want to be responsible for marring your pretty face. And Yuri volunteered.”

“And I'm so glad I did!” She jumps up and down on the mud, invigorated by the so-called fight. “C’mon and get up, I want to show you my upper cut!”

“Oh god.” You thump your head on the mud. “I thought you'd teach me how to lock pick or even archery.”

“Nah, you gotta earn that.” He says while chewing. “We've got a month until they take out the red alert on the castle, you've got plenty of time to train, love. Besides, free entertainment.” He unfurls his long arms, and cheers erupt from the children watching you get your ass beat by Yuri.

Standing up on wobbly feet, you continue to scowl at him. “I hate you.”

Hobie does something you least expect, winking and keeping his eyes glued on your own as if he's imagining that you're the apple that he's currently taking a bite out of.

Flustered, you turn away from him. The second you put your fists in front of you, you get

knocked out by Yuri and her fierce uppercut. Darkness envelops you while you fall down on the soft ground.

You've got a long month ahead of you.

—

“Fuck!” You curse after breaking what must've been your fifteenth lock pick. Throwing it away, you thump your head against the wooden door, feeling the rough material under you. “Can I at least get the better lock pick instead of using your shitty ones?” You address Hobie, who's sitting on the bed while mindlessly strumming his lute. The sound would've been lovely but with your situation, you just find it annoying.

“You know the answer to that, blue blood.” He glances briefly at you, throwing another leather pouch at you that you already know is full of badly made lock picks. “You're stuck with me until you open the door.”

“This is torture.” You narrow your eyes at him, knees aching from how long you've been kneeling down on the floor. Not even the pillow underneath you is helping. “And this one won't even work!” You show him a bent lock pick.

He mocks you by opening and closing his hand like a yammering mouth. Your supposed mouth.

You've had enough, your stomach is growling and the back of your neck is sweating. So with a precise aim, you throw the bent metal at him. It lands straight in the hole in the middle of his lute.

“What the fuck?!” His astonishment makes you guffaw.

“I told you that we should've started off with archery.” You say in a sing-song tone. His mouth opens widely, and with you having twelve siblings, you already know what he's about to do. “Don't you dare—!” Hobie screams at the top of his lungs, prompting you to cover your ears. “You're a child!” He strums his guitar loudly and without a thought. “Stop!”

He stops to catch his breath. “I'll keep screamin’ until you unlock that bloody door.”

“No—!”

He shouts again, and you immediately try to lockpick your way out of your personal hell. The metal breaks again, and you stop yourself from throwing it at him again. At least he seems to be having fun.

—

The stew is warm in your hands and the chatter reminds you of dinners back at home when your siblings still lived there. You look at the long tables placed in the town hall where they serve dinners every night to provide a sense of community within the village. They all eat together, laughing with their families and friends while you're left standing at the far end by your lonesome.

You find that there's no place for you here.

Beginning to turn around, you feel someone tugging on your shirt. Looking down, you see a hair of red and freckles staring up at you with her big blue eyes.

“Hi, Mayday.” You give her a tight-lipped smile. You can still feel how the ground met your nose.

“Aunt Janet asked me to say sorry to you.”

You wait for her to do so.

“But I don't want to.” She says defiantly.

“Alright then.” You try to walk away but she stops you by pulling at your borrowed coat. “What is it?”

“Do you want to eat with us?” She glances behind her. When you look at the table, you see Hobie's entire crew merrily chatting and eating while the man himself meets with your eyes with a glint in those hazel eyes. Pouting, she tugs at you again. “When Aunt Janet asks—”

“I'll tell her that you apologized.”

She puffs her chest out, curly hair cascading down her cheeks. “Good,” leading you towards the table, she continues to pull at you. “You have to meet Miles and Gwen!”

As you get closer to the table, Hobie smirks and tells people to make space for you to sit down. You can't help but smile at him while Mayday excitedly introduces you to Hobie's crew that you already know by name. Of course you wouldn't tell her that, lest you get on her bad side again.

Mayday talks your ears off after getting used to you. Even after dinner and when people start cleaning up, she stays with you and asks you numerous questions about your time being a princess and living in a golden castle; all the while you braid her hair out of her face which she's happy enough to stay still for you.

“Do you bathe in milk?” She asks while you brush her hair. “Do you have a dragon?” She gasps. “A pony?!”

“No, no and yes, I did have a pony.” You chuckle.

“Did? What happened to it?”

You blink, hands pausing on her hair. “I don't know actually.”

Mayday turns around, brows furrowed at your expression. “They sent it to the farm didn't they? Hobie said that Jared is at the farm too.”

“Jared?”

“My squirrel!”

You fully understand what the farm actually is. “...Sure, probably.”

While you continue to tie her hair, you don't notice Hobie's soft gaze towards you as he leans on the doorway with his hands in his pockets and with a smile that never leaves his lips with every topic you and Mayday talk about.

“Careful now, don't fall for her.” Ned suddenly appears by his side, voice whispering, sending goosebumps on the back of his neck. “‘Don’t fall for the mark,’ remember?”

Hobie cranes his neck towards Ned, who teases him with a light smirk. “I bloody know, Neddy, ‘m not daft. She's a princess.”

“And? That doesn't mean you're immune to falling for her. Hell, there's a reason why I've kept James away from her.”

Hobie snorts, arms crossed over his chest. “James fancies her?”

“I smell jealousy, Hobart.” Ned half jokes. Hobie glares at him, jaw tightening before he opens his mouth widely. “No!” Before Hobie could yell (as if he would at night) Ned is already running away with his hands cupping his ears.

With a victorious chuckle, he returns to watch you interact with Mayday only to find a gaggle of children asking you questions and requesting for you to braid their hair too. Your smile brightens up the night while you try to placate each child with patience and a childish grin. He blinks and he meets with your eyes that look at him with a tender gaze.

He's in trouble.

—

The string in your hand is taut and rough against the pads of your fingers, a stark contrast to the smooth wooden bow in your other hand. You close one eye, aiming directly at the painted target that looks awfully like your father.

Hobie stands next to you with his own bow in hand, eyes trained on your posture, making sure you don't hurt yourself by standing close to you. The sun bares down on both of you while birds chirp, and the wind blows gently at the canopies.

“Remember to inhale before lettin’ go.”

“How philosophical.” You raise a brow, and with a sharp inhale, you let go of the arrow. It soars above, curving atop the target and landing on the grass behind it. “Damnit.”

You expect Hobie to laugh at you or tease you, instead, he walks towards you. “‘ere, let me.” With a nod, he corrects your posture. The tip of his fingers push lightly at your shoulders, straightening your back. You then feel his knuckles ghost above your spine, tracing it without touching you. “Keep your shoulders aligned with your hip.” His warmth radiates off him as he gently holds your hips, pushing and twisting you to position your body to the correct position.

You stand like a marble statue in his space, you dare not breathe, afraid that he'd let you go. “What now?” You ask while he nocks an arrow in your bow with his hands briefly brushing along your own.

“Now…” with his fingers holding your chin, he moves your head. Feeling his calloused skin on your warming flesh. “You shoot.” He whispers against the shell of your ear before leaving your side. “I know you could do better than the lockpick.”

Your head is all jumbled up because of him, how could you train in this condition? More or less shoot a sharp projectile?

“C’mon, princess, I don't have all day.” You can practically hear his smirk from his tone.

“Asshole.” You curse under your breath, nocking back the arrow to release. To his surprise but not to you, it flies overhead, much higher and farther from your last shot. The arrow overshoots, soaring over the trees and out of the village. “Ah shit.”

Now he laughs, “what happened, hm?” He nudges you with his shoulder while chortling at your miserable aim.

You glare at him, chin hidden atop your shoulder to mask your flustered self. “It was the wind.”

Hobie shakes his head with a chuckle, “don't think so.” Without looking at the target, he loads an arrow, quickly nocking it back and shooting directly at the sack target. “See?” He proves his point. Smirking, he nocks three arrows at the same time, and again he doesn't look at what he's aiming. Pulling the bow string, you can see his muscles straining from under his tunic, you barely even saw the arrows fly and hit the target simultaneously and effortlessly. Breath stuck in your throat, he smirks triumphantly at you.

“Show off.” You hide your impressed expression with a well timed scoff.

Hobie's satisfied with your reaction based on his lopsided grin. “C’mon, we need to get that arrow.” He says as he places his bow on his back, quiver placed right on his hip like always.

You groan, tired from today's activities. You're more than ready for lunch. You still have a full schedule after this session. “Why? You have plenty of arrows.” Gesturing towards the bucket full of arrows, you complain.

“Because if someone sees that they'll figure out that there's a settlement nearby.” He pats your back, urging you to walk with him. You stand there, groaning at the thought of hiking. “I can't let you go alone, can I? You might run.”

“And here I thought you were concerned for me because of the bears.” You follow him.

“If we see one I'd let it get you.” He smiles, waiting for your reaction.

“No you won't.” You roll your eyes.

You two reach the vines, he orders his people to unfurl it. “Maybe I will, maybe not. You don't know that, love.”

He passes by the ‘gates’ nodding a thank you at the guards on watch. One of them seems to look at you for far too long. Too long for Hobie's liking, he snaps his head at the said guard, prompting him to return to his duties while avoiding Hobie's gaze. You saw the whole interaction unfold, giving you the right teasing ammo.

“I didn't know that you're the jealous type.” You walk with your hands behind your back while you continue to follow him. He knows the forest better than you, and you'd rather not get lost in it.

“I don't know what you mean.” He swipes away at a branch, lifting it up to let you pass through unscathed.

You nudge him, pushing him lightly as leaves crunch underfoot. “Sure you don't.”

“You always know how to rile me up. And not the good kind.” He fights back with his own teasing.

“Likewise, Hobart—!” A protruding tree root catches your foot, making you stumble and trip over it. Before you could fall and meet the ground once again, Hobie catches you in his arms. Cheek pressed on his chest, arms holding him close.

“Should I start callin’ you clumsy?” He rhetorically asks while he's still holding you in place. You don't find it in yourself to let go.

“Anything to keep you from calling me princess.” You huff, and you see goosebumps appear on his skin.

“I'll do it if you stop callin' me Hobart.” You feel his breath fan the top of your head, and his fingers splayed over your back.

Leaning away, hands still on his chest, you look at him with feigned annoyance. “Fine.”

Hobie sees himself reflected in your eyes while leaves dance in the wind. The cacophony of the forest lulls you and him into a bubble of affection, just you and him in the vast greenery of the land you call home.

His hands latch off from you, with one last look, he leads you where the arrow could've landed. You follow him wordlessly, his back facing you while he guides you.

Soon after, the silence fades away as you hear the rushing of water. Hobie pushes a thick bush away, parting it to reveal a waterfall and a clear pool hidden in the deep forest.

It takes your breath away. “Wow.” You gasp, eyes shining at the glimmering water.

Hobie watches your reaction with a fond smile, “Pretty, innit?”

“Beautiful.” You turn towards him, smiling brilliantly.

For a moment, you two share a look, just languishing in each other's presence while listening to the water cascade down the pool.

Clearing his throat, Hobie returns his attention towards the water only to see the arrow embedded at the bottom of the mirror-like pool. He chuckles when he spots the scales underneath the tip of the arrow.

“At least you hit somethin' this time, clumsy.”

You follow his gaze, walking closer until your shoes hit the cool water. “Is that?”

“Lunch.” He grins, “and I've got the perfect place to cook it.” Gesturing with his head at the waterfall, you tilt your head questioningly. “C’mon then.”

—

You're drenched from head to toe, Hobie didn't say that you had to walk into the waterfalls to reach it. And by it, he meant his secret hideout hidden behind the waterfalls. It's a sizable cave with its moist walls and camping gear that he must've left behind for himself.

You warm yourself near the fire while he rubs salt and spices onto the fish that he's preparing. “Do you take all your women here?” A half joke on your end.

“Only the fit ones that provide lunch.” He glances at you with a smirk while you hide your face in your hands, pretending to rub it and warm yourself. “Why leave?”

“Laying it on thick, Hobie?”

“Alright, do you want bread with your fish?”

“Sure—”

“Too bad, we don't have bread.” He places the fish in the hot skillet, it sizzles in place, the smell making your stomach grumble. “So why leave your cushy life? D’you really want to be a jester?” Joking and recalling your words you uttered in the throne room a few weeks ago, you roll your eyes with a small smile.

“Simple, freedom. All my life I've been told what to wear, what to eat and when to speak. For once I want to decide for myself, even if it means leaving my cushy life behind.” You squeeze out water from your sleeve. “I–it's not like I decided on a whim. I've been trying to leave ever since I heard that I'll be the next one to be married off. I know it'll be hard after, but I know it'll be worth it.” You meet with his eyes, “Your turn, why do you have this secret place of yours?”

“For debauchery, of course.”

You chortle, “I don't know if you're lying or not.”

He mirrors your smile. “I like my silence.”

You instantly know what he means. “I have twelve siblings, I like my silence too.”

“Siblings,” he repeats with a soft smile while staring at the crackling fire. “I guess Ned and the others are my siblings.”

“I guess they are.” You say delicately. “My turn to ask the heavy question, why do you do…” you gesture at him. “All of it? The risk is higher than the reward you get for stealing shit from aristocrats, so why don't you keep it for yourself?”

Hobie turns the fish around, cooking it fully until it's golden brown, letting your question simmer in his mind. “‘m content, love, I've got my place, and I've got my people. Why do I need to hoard wealth when I've got everythin' I could ever need?” He chuckles softly, “I steal from the wealthy to give back to the people they stole from. They need it the most, and I don't do it for satisfaction, I do it so that people have a bigger chance of surviving another day when their own lords fail to provide for them. Or in most cases, their king.” The fish sizzles, filling the cave with smoky air. “I failed my people once, I won't let that happen again. You'll never understand it, princess.”

You look at him through the flames, “then let me see. Let me understand. Show me all the failings my blood has done.”

Hobie gazes back with an unreadable expression. Silence replaces the smoky air, you can only hear the cackling of the fire and the rushing of waters behind you. After a while, Hobie speaks again. “What are you plannin’ to do after all this?”

“Asking me out, Hobie?” You manage a jape after the previous heavy conversation. An attempt to lighten the silence.

“Care to find out?” Your teasing backfires. His lopsided smile makes you falter, heart thudding loudly while your skin feels like the poor fish who met the end of your arrow. He always recovers faster than you.

You look at a rock in the corner, trying to play it cool but he can't be fooled by your failed attempt at hiding your sheepish self. “...probably a flower shop.” You mutter.

“What's that, love? I can't hear you.” He riles you up again, hand placed behind the shell of his ear in a mocking fashion.

You sigh, brows furrowed and cheeks aflame. “I said I might start a flower shop.”

“I didn't peg you as a horticulturist.”

“I don't know, it just sounds nice.” You play off your lack of plan casually.

Hobie laughs and shakes his head while he takes the skillet away with a cloth around the handle. The fish still sizzles, and smells mouth wateringly good. He then takes out a knife, cutting your share while smoke wafts out of the meat. Giving you a piece, you take it without a word, embarrassment still lingering in the pit of your stomach.

He reaches for a piece himself, lifting it up like a goblet towards you. “To not havin’ plans.”

You guffaw above the rushing water, “to not having plans.” ‘Clinking’ your lunch with his, you happily eat with Hobie, occasionally laughing at the banter.

—

You make your way towards the city center with your disguise billowing in the wind. Your dark cape and hood makes you blend into the cheering crowd, oblivious to your stealthy movements. You're out of Doverhill and into the city where you were born and raised, but you've never been out in the actual streets in your entire life. You can see the castle, your home looming over the cramped city. The same city you've always looked at with longing through your bedroom window. You once dreamed of stepping foot on the cobblestone, to interact with your subjects and listen to their problems so you could help in any way a princess can. And now that you're in the thick of it, you now see the truth.

The city is filled to the brim with people surviving on measly coin for the entire day. Mothers, who have barely anything to feed their children. The elderly begging for scraps. People, *your subjects, scrounging for leftovers in the streets when up in the palace, your family and the courtiers had everything they could ever eat and more. If not for Hobie giving you one final task, a test to see if you can handle the heist that you've helped plan together with him and the rest of the crew; you wouldn't have seen how bad it is in the land you love and cherish.

You grip onto your hood tighter, wandering the streets all the while avoiding Hobie and his crew. He tasked you to pick a mark within his group to steal a single coin without being noticed or caught. If you do it successfully, you get to join them and do what you need to do before leaving the country, only to never return.

Blending into the gathering crowd, you finally see Hobie and his crew that you've grown to know. Yuri helped you with your hand to hand combat patiently, and as thanks, you made her a simple embroidery of a lily because you once remembered her talking about a flower that she couldn't remember the name of but remembers what it looked like. She was ecstatic, but Ned, who taught you how to disappear in a crowd, was a bit jealous, so you made him his own embroidery of a bumblebee. After that everyone in Doverhill wanted their own exclusive embroidery from the princess herself. It's safe to say that your embroidery classes were put to good use. The only person you haven't given a piece to is Hobie, his embroidery has been hidden in your pocket for days since you've finished it. You're too nervous to give it to him, more or less show it to him.

Hobie speaks in the middle of the crowd with boxes and crates upon crates full of food and supplies to help the people. You watch as his crew hands them out to the waiting crowd. Quickly, the air fills with gratitude, smiles and even some tears. While they're busy, you head towards Hobie and Mayday, who are occupied with a gaggle of children munching on honeyed candy while vying for their attention.

“We have a new person with us!” Mayday's excited chatter makes you pause midstep. “I can't tell you who she is but she's amazing! She taught me how to sew and write poetry.” A chorus of ‘wows’ and ‘woahs’ can be heard. “And look, she even braided my hair like how a princess wears her hair!”

Hobie chuckles by her side, coin pouch almost half empty while he gives most of it out to people. “Tell ‘em the part where you tripped her.” He spots you in his peripheral whilst you stalk on the outskirts of the crowd. It's impossible not to, as if his senses have attuned itself to your presence. He doesn't say anything.

“I did!” She proudly says, and you almost laughed.

“I thought you liked her?” A child asks, nose scrunched up.

“But back then I just didn't like her very much.” Mayday says and you almost falter as you sneakily ease your hand in James' pocket. Mayday continues to tell stories about you and your old pony while Hobie pretends that he doesn't see you.

Yuri suddenly appears by his side, nudging his shoulder. “Should I tell him?” She chuckles, whispering to him. “I gotta hand it to her, she chose the most oblivious one to steal from.”

“Taught her well,” Hobie mutters back, “don't tell him or her. Let it happen.”

“Is this one of your brilliant plans?”

“Maybe.” He sees you scurry off to an alley all without James or people noticing you. Smiling fondly, he returns his attention to the task at hand. “We need to hurry up and distribute these before the guards get ‘ere.”

“Aye, aye.” Yuri turns away with a knowing look that Hobie has a feeling he knows the reason what it pertains to.

—

You watch as the sun gets smaller and smaller on the horizon. The sea is calm while the salty breeze flutters your lashes. The hustle and bustle of the dock has calmed down ever since you made yourself comfortable on a crate. Munching on a loaf of bread, you watch a ship leave the dock, its anchor slowly emerging from the waters.

“You're late, Hobie.” You felt him before you saw him. Looking over your shoulder, you see him in a similar cloak and hood, bow and arrow hidden behind him. “I got the coin from James, but…” you show him the half eaten bread in your hand. “I used it already.”

Hobie admires you in the orange and pink hues, your eyes seem to glow in the light, while your lips curl into a gentle smile. He inhales, making his way towards you, leaning on the dock bannister, and watching the ship sail away into the fading horizon.

“Can I have some?” He asks, head turning towards you.

You grin with a chuckle, breaking the loaf apart to give the biggest side to him. “Here, you look like you need it more than I do.” You poke at his cheek, feeling his tired muscle underneath it.

“Runnin' away from your guards is hard work.” He takes a bite, “do I look that bad?”

Without thinking, you reach for the corner of his lip to wipe away a crumb stuck on it. “Nothing like a good nap couldn't fix.” Realization hits you, flinching away, you play your behaviour off by returning your attention towards the sea. “Sorry.” You clear your throat.

Hobie stands there, frozen and in the middle of chewing. Swallowing down the bread and his sudden nerves, he brushes his knuckle over your cheek where dirt clings onto your skin unbeknownst to you.

“Now we're even.” He says gently, and you gaze at him through glassy eyes and warm cheeks. With a sigh, he moves away, casually finishing off the bread. “D’you need anythin’ else for tomorrow?”

You take a deep breath, eyes glancing over to the castle. “Guts?”

“Don't think we can get that from the shops, love.”

You chortle, fingers playing with the hem of your cloak. “You didn't exactly give me this test to see if I can successfully pickpocket someone right?”

Hobie turns sideways to look at you fully, still leaning on the handrail. “No.”

“You wanted me to see this.” You gesture around the city. “And how bad the situation here is.” He nods, eyes trained on you. “If I had known…” you ball your fists around the fabric of your trousers. “...I could've done something. Anything.”

“Could've, would've, should've. The important thing is that you're ‘ere now.” He tentatively takes your hand, you're cold under his palm as he feels you slowly warm up from his touch alone. He gives you enough space to let go. But you don't. “You're doin' somethin' now. You're better than them.” He points at the palace behind you. “And if all goes well tomorrow, you've helped more than they have ever since they've taken the throne.” Squeezing your hand, he lets you fall atop him, your face hidden on his shoulder. “You’re good, Y/N, I know you are.”

You let go of his hand, arms embracing him fully. “You're good too, Hobie.” While you hold him, you sneak the embroidery of a bow and arrow you made inside his pocket.

With his arms around you, the moon slowly appearing in the sky, and face on the crook of your neck, he lets you cry while his palm rests on your shoulder blades, gently caressing. Your words have sparked something in him, and your touch ignited it within him, warming him up from the inside out. It doesn't engulf him nor burn him, it soothes him at his core, and he sense that you can feel it too through his chest.

—

Your hands are sweaty while gripping the dessert cart. The sweet confections wobble while you make your way towards the kitchens. Dressed in the cook's attire, you blend in with the rest of the busy staff walking briskly on the marble floors.

The plan was to split up, to dress like the staff and infiltrate the castle with only your disguises. You all plan to meet up at the library where the main tunnel leads towards the royal apartments where the crown jewels are located. If everything goes to plan, they'll have the jewels in their satchels without ever being noticed.

Your eyes dart around the halls, trying incredibly hard not to stick out like a sore thumb. *So far so good. You think to yourself, attempting to calm your nerves. Some staff glance at you but they thankfully let you go without questioning you and why you're pushing a cart full of cakes towards the library. The courtiers don't even pay you any heed.

Out of danger for now, you walk faster when you see the double doors leading to the library you've spent most of your days in.

“Halt!” A deep voice calls after you, and you stop in your tracks, hands already shaking.

“Yes?” You fake your voice, eyes downturned to hide your face.

“Where are you heading?” He asks, head gesturing towards the tea and cakes.

“The library, s–sir.”

“I've been patrolling this hallway for hours and not a single person has entered the library.” He narrows at you suspiciously.

You clear your thoughts, determination surpassing over your anxiety. “Lady Caroline has asked me to deliver them in advance. Says she has some sort of meeting with the other court ladies.” It's a long stretch, but the said lady is known for her gossiping circles.

“Hmm,” he straightens up, thankfully not recognising you and believing your bold lie. “Go ahead, just don't make a mess.”

“Understood.” You don't look back as you make your way towards the doors. Shutting it close, you can finally breathe on your own. “We made it.” You shakily walk towards the long table at the center of the large room, chest heaving, and pupils fully dilated. “I— fuck.”

A sudden hand grasps your bicep gently which almost made you yelp in surprise. “Just breathe, it's over.” Hobie has come out from under the cart to soothe you by rubbing his palm up and down your trembling arms. “Y/N, can you look at me?” With his fingertips, he moves your head to face him. “There you are,” he smiles, “breathe with me, yeah?”

You nod, hand upon his clavicle, eyes watching his chest go up and down while you mirror him. “I—I thought I fucked it up.”

“Nah, you did brilliantly. I thought I had to shoot an arrow at his eye.” He pats your cheek, thumb tracing under your eye. “You alright?”

“I think I am now,” you whisper, eyes darting over to his lips, and breathing normalized. “Are you?”

“Nothin' gets the heart pumpin’ than almost gettin' caught.” Hobie says softly as he gazes at your own lips. He says your name as if he's tasting it on his tongue. “Can I—?”

He aches for you.

“Yes.”

And you yearn for him.

The doors open with a squeak, and out comes Yuri in her handmaiden dress with her eyes wide and blinking at the two of you. You and Hobie freeze on the spot.

Her surprise turns into amusement. “Am I interrupting something?”

You're the first one to move away, acting casually as if she didn't catch you in the act. Meanwhile, Hobie finds the rows of books more interesting than Yuri smirking at him.

“No, you're just in time, Yuri.”

She hums with a knowing gaze at the two of you. “Bet you two wished I was late, huh?”

“No.” You and Hobie manage to say simultaneously. Hobie clears his throat while you grab a discarded book to hide your face under. You can practically hear all the future teasing that you'll face after this.

“Where are the others?” Hobie recovers much faster than you could. “They should be ‘ere by now.”

“Don't know, I didn't see them in the halls.”

Their words concern you as minutes tick past. While the three of you wait, you find the hidden passage hidden behind one of the bookshelves. After a quick scan, you see the book you've been looking for. The cover is in a deep shade of blue, the title worn down from the years, but you can briefly read the words ‘between’ and ‘sea’ on the fading paint. You've read it dozens of times, but so far you still don't know the title.

Before you could reach for it, the doors opened once again, much louder this time. Instead of just Ned, James and the rest of Hobie's crew, they're joined by someone. They dragged the guard that was patrolling outside. His body is limp but still clearly breathing while Ned and the crew drags him further inside the library.

“Can we get some help here?” James huffs, hands occupied with the guard's legs.

“What the bloody hell happened?” Hobie rushes towards them, helping get the man inside the room.

“Shit happened.” Ned pants, “we don't have time so we'll explain later. For now we need to tie him down.”

“My specialty.” Yuri reveals a thick rope from under her apron, “help me with his arms.”

Hobie glances towards you, shrugging his shoulders with a ghost of a smile. “Open it, love.”

You nod, giving him a smile. With a yank on the book, the secret passage opens with a wooden groan. It opens a smidge, so Hobie helps you with pushing it further open.

“Love, huh?” James mutters under his breath. Ned snickers by his side.

The tunnel is dark and dank, air stale and moist. The walls are lined with thick cobwebs upon cobblestones. There's not a single light in place as the breeze drifts inside.

“A bit creepy innit?” Hobie glances at you, “can't believe you slept in a castle with jester tunnels behind your bedroom walls.”

“When you put it that way, yes, that's fucking creepy, Hobie.” You chuckle as he chortles back.

“Move over, love birds.” Yuri pushes the two of you away from the door with a flaming torch in hand. “We have to steal some shit remember?” She says over her shoulders, and the rest follows her with a teasing grin on their lips except for James who has a deep frown. “And you have a ship to catch, princess.”

“Oh,” you almost forgot about you leaving for a second. Hobie glances at you, smile faltering. “Y–yes, I remember, of course.” Stepping inside the passageway, you make your way towards the front of the group as Yuri passes you the torch. Hobie stays a few ways behind the group, eyes trained on your back. “Let's go.”

—

Your hand glides along the wall, feeling every indent and curve of the rocks. You know the tunnels well enough to know about the secret markings etched on the walls. Every two feet you walk, there's a subtle ‘x’ carved on the stone. If you pass by a wall that doesn't have that mark after the last two feet, then you could get lost if you don't retrace your steps. So with measured steps, you carefully guide the group through the tunnel, making sure that they're holding onto each other and to you. You've learned this trick after your older brother taught you how to sneak into the library at night without being noticed. You have no idea how he is now.

Hobie's hand upon your shoulder is gentle, you can feel his reassuring squeeze every time you shakily breathe in the dusty air.

You pass by a door on your right, remembering that it's your father's study. You almost ignored it but with your name being uttered by his advisor, you stop your movements while the others follow suit. Moving closer to the door, you look at the crack in the wood, seeing your father at his usual place in his study, and your mother sitting nearby. A testament to their love. They had a lot of love to give each other, but none left for their children.

“My king, I think it's high time we start looking for the princess again. After the first ransom note there was nothing else. I fear for her safety.”

Your father continues to scribble away at his paperwork, while your mother sits near the window with a cup of tea daintily in her hand. They look unbothered. They did stop looking for you.

“Don't worry about her, she has always been independent. I'm sure Robin Hood will grow tired of her and is about to give her up any moment now.” The queen says without missing a beat or a forlorn tone for her missing child. “What news does my son bring? Another grandson?”

“Which prince, my queen?”

“The one with the heavily pregnant wife, Jeeves.” She scoffs out, entirely forgetting about you, and your brother's name.

“Ah, my apologies. I heard that the baby girl was born healthy, but his wife is in dire condition. The prince is beside himself, in fact he requests for your presence—” Your father’s adviser says with a solemn tone.

“Pity.” She could only say.

You couldn't continue hearing her words and his lack of them. “Let's…” your eyes water, lips wobbling. “...we need to go.” Hobie calls your name softly, thumb pressing carefully on your shoulder blade, trying to calm you down. “I'm alright. Let's continue.” You ignore their looks of concern.

A heavy silence follows you and the crew, making your way towards the crown jewels through tear filled eyes, you manage to guide them in the room without getting lost. You shed off your cook uniform, donning the tiara you left with. Even without your gown, you hope that it's enough to convince the guards inside that it's still you.

“Stay here, I'll knock three times when they're gone.” You murmur.

“Are you— will you be alright?” Hobie asks gently, palm cupping your cheek.

You give him a weak smile. “I will be once we get what we came for.” Cracking the door open, you make your way inside before Hobie could express his concern.

—

The group lies in wait behind the closed door within the dark tunnel. The light from the torches are starting to burn out, leaving them with only the sunshine coming from the crack in the door for a shed of light.

The second Hobie's starting to get agitated and worried for you, he grabs the door knob with protests from his crew. But before he could open the door, he's met with you staring back at him.

“They're gone.” You say as you open the door wider for them. Sure enough, the only soul left in the room is you. “I told them that I escaped and for them to get the physician. It took some convincing but they eventually left.”

The others pat you in the back, eyes widening at the glittering jewels and crowns sitting on tables and shelves. But Hobie's eyes were only on you, hands already reaching for your own.

“You should go, I think we only have fifteen minutes before they march back here.” You try to walk away but Hobie holds onto you, fingers laced around your own, warmth helping you at ease. “Hobie, I'll be fine. Help the others.”

He glances at his crew who are efficiently working together by lock picking and grabbing the jewels that they can easily carry and transport. They're not blinded by the shining large crowns and scepters, but only taking whatever they can hold in their satchels. One precious stone could feed the whole village for a year, and one crown could provide for the whole city for six months.

“They can handle it, you said you needed to grab somethin'. Let me help you.”

You stare at his worried eyes. “It's not— are you sure?”

“Yes, you said fifteen minutes and we're already at thirteen. No time to lose, love.” His lips curl into a smile, hand bringing your own to his chest.

“My lucky number.”

—

Without wasting another minute, you arrive at your apartments. Its familiar purple walls take you back, your bed is made and fluffy, closet and desk clean as if you never left.

Hobie's hand is still grasping yours as if he's afraid that someone would snatch you away and drag you into the dark tunnels. His eyes roam around your room with a faint smile, he admires your portrait on the wall above the fireplace.

“D’you think if I nick this one I'll get away with it?”

“You're stealing from the crown and you think stealing my portrait would get you a bigger punishment?” You chuckle, letting go of his hand reluctantly to grab your satchel hidden under your bed.

“Yes, this is the real treasure right ‘ere.”

You poke your head from under the bed, meeting with his eyes and his wide grin. “If you keep saying stuff like that I'd think you're being genuine.” Going under again, you reach for the strap of your bag, and you finally grab it from under the dusty bed.

“When was I not genuine, hm?” You come out only to be met with his smirk. He flicks away a dust bunny clinging on your tiara while you gawk at him.

“You're not joking?”

“No,” he says seriously. “I meant everythin’ I've said and more.” Kneeling down, he fixes the tiara above your head. “Besides, I wanted a reminder of you once you're gone.”

“Do you want me to leave?” You reach for his jaw, thumb grazing along his stubble.

He could only smile, afraid that if he audibly said no, you won't go and do what you've always planned to do. He doesn't want to bar you from leaving or sway you into staying. It's your decision, and whatever you decide to do, he'll be right behind you.

Tears cling to your lashes as you caress his cheek. You want to stay, but not just for Hobie and the people you've grown to love. But also your subjects, your people that you could still help by staying. Something that you could not do if you left. You're conflicted. “You don't have to take the whole painting. I have a smaller one in my drawer.”

“Alright.” Hobie stands up despite his feelings swirling inside him. He helps you up, and follows you towards your desk.

You open a drawer, giving him a circular frame that contains an exact copy of your portrait. “To remind you of me. Or to sell it once you're bored of my face.” You joke.

“I’ll never get tired of your face.”

You have an intense urge to kiss him. Instead, you reign yourself in, “let's get back to the others. Then let's get the fuck out of here.” He nods in agreement. Before you could follow, you leave your letter that you've written days ago for your family. It contains everything you've wanted to say to them, every ire, and sorrow you could translate from ink to paper.

Hobie waits for you in the doorway, arm holding up the tapestry that hides the passageways. You look at him and you see your future, would it be selfish of you if you stayed? Or would it be better if you just left?

With one final look at your old life, you leave it all behind.

—

The clinking of silver and gold rings around the tunnel as you lead the group out of the castle. The smiles on their faces can't be wiped away even when the torch burned out a while ago and your only guide was the marks on the walls. Despite the hiccups, you all made it out into the beach in one piece and with bags full of jewelry enough to take care of everyone.

Ned hoots and hollers on the beach while Yuri lies on the sand with a huge grin on her lips. And James hides his sobs by laying face first on the beach while a crab tugs at his hair. The others are getting the loot on board the fishing boat while they sing a merry tune.

You watch them carry your family jewels with a fond smile. A brooch peeking from one of the bags catches your eye, it's the one piece of jewelry your mother is fond of, except for her crown. You know that it'll be used for a better cause now instead of gathering dust on the shelves.

Smiling, you hear Hobie's footsteps upon the sand. “Havin' second thoughts about your crown jewels?”

You shake your head. “No, none of them holds any sentimental value to me.” Reaching for your tiara, you hand it to him. “Even this one. Let Mayday play with it, I think she'll appreciate that.”

Hobie chuckles and sits down next to you while the others finish off loading the boat. His hand traces the emeralds and diamonds on your tiara before placing it gently on his lap. You see him take something from his pocket, which he immediately shows to you.

“Maybe this one will hold sentimental value.” A simple silver necklace hangs from his hand, you could cry from the sight of it. “It's not from your family. I bought it yesterday while we were in the city.”

“Is that why you were late?” You laugh with tears filling your eyes. Your fingers gently graze the chain, feeling the cold metal against your skin. The smile on your face hasn't faded. Recognition hits you, and your eyes immediately fly towards his neck where a similar silver chain rests upon his skin.

He doesn't only see the crown atop of your head. He sees you. And you truly see him as the one you would love until your dying breath.

Hobie notices your awed expression, “it's identical to mine. I would've gotten you a pendant to go with it—”

“Help put it on me?”

“Sure,” he tells you to turn around, smiling while his hands brush along your neck as he clasps the necklace on you. Once it's secured, his thumb hovers on your nape, eyes warm on your skin. “I— thank you for the help. I've got your papers ready, and if it weren't for you keepin’ your word—!” His words get smothered by your lips upon his own. Your kiss catches him off guard, eyes wide open, not knowing what to do with his hands, and lips not kissing back. You take it all as rejection.

You quickly lean away, “fuck— I'm sorry. I thought—”

He grabs your face, lopsided smile and lovestruck gaze staying on you. “You thought right, love.” His lips meet your own, within a second, you kiss in tandem as if you two were meant to be. He thinks so too.

The crew's claps interrupt you, even with their cheers (except for James) Hobie doesn't let your face go in his warm hands.

“Rule breaker!” Ned shouts with a proud smile.

“Fucking called it.” Yuri claps, “Janet owes me a coin.”

Hobie flips them the bird, all the while sharing your smile. He turns towards you again, eyes soft for you. “C’mon, before they attract the guard's attention.”

“Wait, Hobie.”

“Love—”

“Before this I had no purpose. I was just existing with a crown on my head.” You stand up and you help him up on his feet, with his other hand carrying your tiara. “I want to keep helping my people, I will not abandon them like they have.” You look up at the palace, its shadow encompassing you. “I see that now, thanks to you and them.” You address the crew behind him.

“Is that what you want?” Hobie cups your cheek, not even hiding the fact that he's happy about your decision. He still tries to hide it though. And he's failing miserably. “Just say the word and I'll take you to the docks—”

“I want to stay here with you. That's my plan.” You pull him by his bow strap that's over his shoulders, thumb placed on his clavicle. Eyes crinkling at the corners and incredibly lovestruck by the man before you. “Because I found my purpose right here.”

“As you wish, love.” With a smile, Hobie leans close for another kiss, one of many to come in your future with him, and part of his band of merry men.

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edenalieth · 8 months ago

Text

LOVE CURSE

Pairing: god of love!minho x Y/N

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff with angst

Being a god of love wasn’t always easy. When you got assigned to Minho to be bonded to your soulmate, he thought his mission would be done in a blink of an eye. Little did he know that his biggest ally would be his greatest enemy: love.

Words: 6K

A.N: first fic of 2024, we cheered! sorry, it took me more time than i thought it would,,, that photoshoot inspired me for this story, as well as the song "rewrite the stars". my bad for the possible mistakes, hope you enjoy :) any interactions are sincerely appreciated 🫶. — 240304

Being a god of love wasn’t always easy. Mortals thought it was all about fate and butt naked babies shooting their arrows at them. However, it wasn’t as perfect as they could imagine it and deities didn’t look like cherubs.

Minho had not a single memory about his past life. One day, he had opened his eyes after wandering into darkness for a really long time and had been welcomed by an angel. This angel happened to be his new brother, Felix, who introduced him to more brothers and sisters. Felix was always cheerful, he exhaled warmth and passion, a ray of sunshine in a solid form. He taught him everything he had to know for his new function as a love god. The good sides and the bad ones. Among the great ones was the chase, as they called it with his siblings. An interesting part where they used their magic to get close to their assigned human. Using ancestral methods, they tricked their customer into thinking that they knew each other since forever. This way, it was easier for them to establish a bond with their chosen one and Minho was always sincerely curious about their lives, hopes and dreams. Once the spark of love was strong enough, came the second step. The aim. It was truly thrilling for Minho to shoot an arrow. The way the wood of his bow perfectly fitted on his hand, like an extension of his arm. Or when his fingers, hooking on the silver bowstring, had to keep the perfect balance before releasing his arrow, which never failed to ignite the passion between two human beings. It gave him goosebumps every time. Finally, came the evanescence. When the arrow had reached the heart and the two lovebirds were united, the god of love had to disappear from their lives. Despite how poetic all this appeared to be, not everyone had the chance to get their « happy ever after ». Divinities exclusively interfered to match a mortal to its soulmate and they had a glimpse of their future together. Unfortunately, they sometimes had to tie someone to a person who would break them in the most awful ways. No matter how bad it would be, they would remain in love with them to the point where they would forget about themselves. Minho had forced himself to become insensitive to such situations but, deep inside, he despised it. He felt nauseous and anger was running through his veins as he had to watch his customers becoming miserable in front of his eyes. Occasionally, he wished he could bribe the lord of death, Chan, into getting rid of those pests… Sadly, this deity wasn’t easy to negotiate with. They did their duty and nothing else.

When you got assigned to Minho, he didn’t think much about it and started his chase. You were a university student, pretty cheerful and a bit grumpy when things didn’t go your way. You loved to meet new people and hang out with your friends. Reading was one of your favorite hobby and you had a chubby black cat named Churros. Funny, he thought with a small smile on his face. He liked animals because they weren’t fooled by his powers like humans were, especially cats. With their piercing gaze, they could see the magic surrounding the deities, energy flows swirling around them in tints of red, black and gold. Truly smart beings.

Minho put his backpack correctly on his shoulders as he looked over his surroundings. Students were walking toward the entry door, chatting, laughing or shuffling sleepily — probably some hangover or all nighters for exams. Finally, he spotted you. Walking through the crowd, he reached you and put a hand on your shoulder. You turned around, visibly surprised and wondering about who the hell was touching you unprovoked. You frowned, met by a face you had never seen before, a beautiful face. It was a guy. He seemed to be the same age as you, his skin looked smooth, his pink lips stretched into a gentle smile and his hair were copper brown. Slowly, you attached your eyes to his. Warm and deep.

The god of love knew it was the perfect time to use his powers, you were visibly confused. Coming closer to your face, he saw your eyes widening. « I’m going to help you. » he whispered to your ear. When he glanced at you again and noticed the light veil over your eyes. Magic was happening. Shaking your head, as if emerging from a dream, your face lit up. « Minho! Gosh, I really thought you were going to leave me alone again. You know that I hate that class… », you gritted your teeth saying that.

Perfect, he thought. From now on, he would be your longtime friend who happened to go to the same university as you. « I know, I know » he replied, ruffling your hair. You looked offended as your fingers were quickly brushing your locks in an attempt to style them back properly. « You… Do you know how long it took me to do this ? » you grumbled, your eyes sending daggers to your friend. Minho smirked, playing his role to get to know you better. « Are you doing all of this for Thomas ? » he mused, teasing you. Naturally, you were his assigned human and he knew who he had to match you with and how to play with it to make you fall. Your cheeks turned into a bright red. You scoffed in disdain. « Me ? Doing this for a man ? Don’t be silly. » you rolled your eyes and grabbed his arm, changing the subject to the paper you had to write for today. Your crush was ridiculously obvious. He wondered if he would act this way if only he was able to love. However, your budding feelings for Thomas would help to get his job done faster. It took more time when he had to do all the job, create the meeting, put the right mood to some situation in attempt to make both parties fall in love. Yes, it would be easy. You sighed, « And here we go, for two hours of boredom… ». You sat down and prepared your papers, hurrying Minho to do the same. Obediently, he did as told and started his own class: learning about you.

Days turned into weeks and he knew a lot about you by now. You frowned when you were highly focused on something, you hated romcom — at least it was what you said, except that Minho witnessed you tearing up in front of 13 going 30 —, you were the type of person to scream your lungs out to songs while driving, you chewed on your lips and then complained about it when they were getting chapped. To make it short, you were lively in the most beautiful ways and the love god didn’t seem to grow tired of it. « Pull yourself together » he thought, lightly splashing his face with water. He had to make things move on between you and Thomas. Your interest for him didn’t seem to fade, after all, you were meant to be. He looked at his reflection on the mirror and was surprised by his expression: he seemed annoyed. Straightening his back, he glanced one more time at his face, defying it, before exiting the bathroom.

« Took you long enough » you stated, looking at the brown haired boy. He shrugged « Sorry ? ». You gestured him to come sit next to you. Churros was purring on your legs as you scratched it behind its ears and Minho looked at the scene fondly. Taking place by your side, he joined you to pet the black cat. You discreetly looked at your friend. You had been knowing him since you were kids — magic made you think that — and never had you realized how handsome he was. In your eyes, he was just your annoying lost twin. Kind of. At least, you thought… Or tried to convince yourself. Also, Thomas was there and you liked him, right ? Minho raised his head and caught you staring at him. He tilted his head before asking you, « What’s troubling you ? ». You shook your head, scratching your cat under its chin. « Hmm nothing… » your voice was low and not convincing at all, your friend wouldn’t fall for your masquerade. He came closer to you and nudge your shoulder. « Come on Y/N, what’s on your mind ? ». Seeing his eyes, you couldn’t resist them and gave up. You felt a bit embarrassed but gathered your courage up. « Have you ever been in love ? » you asked, your hands stopped moving and Churros half opened its eyes, its green pupils looking deep inside your soul. A brief silence filled the room. Minho was staring at the ceiling before clearing his throat. « Well, I’ve never experienced it myself but I believe it’s a precious and incredible feeling… » your friend seemed a bit gloomy and you were almost disappointed by his answer. « Have you ? » he kept going, curious to know if you were going to talk about your crush with him. The god of love was expectant. « Yes… » « How does it feel ? I can only imagine. » Minho smiled but his eyes weren’t. « It feels warm and exciting but complicated at times too… » you stated. « I mean, what do you do when you start having feelings for someone unexpected ? » The brown haired boy hummed. « Like falling for someone you never thought you would ? » You nodded, « Exactly. It's like... you have this image in your head of who you're supposed to be attracted to, and then someone comes along and totally flips that upside down. » The deity chuckled. « Hmm. I see what you mean. » a tint of bitterness lacing his voice. « But isn't that part of the magic of love? Discovering new feelings and connections you never imagined ? ». Why were you so hesitant about your feelings ? Never in his career he had witnessed that. Lighting the spark of love could took a bit longer to build but his customers never openly expressed their confusion. Was he lacking on some point ? As earlier when he was in the bathroom, he felt annoyance rushing through his veins and a strange tickling at the bottom of his nape... Churros left your lap, feeling the agitation of yours and Minho’s hearts. « I suppose so. It's just… I know you’ve noticed, I've been crushing on Thomas for a while now, but lately, someone else came into the picture… » you were elusive on purpose. Minho got caught off guard on that one. What was going on ? Something was definitely wrong. Who were you talking about ? He would have to review every single people being close to you to find out if you decided not to speak. You bent towards him, your move making your fingers brush against his, sending electricity into your system. « It’s a secret. » you sticked your tongue out and stood up. Still on the floor, Minho looked at you in disbelief. « What ? You started this conversation and now you’ve decided to remain silent ? ». Towering him, you shrugged and turned on the music to distract him.

This was an emergency. He needed to talk to Felix, right now. On his way home, he grabbed his phone on his pocket and looked for his brother’s number. He tapped on his name and waited to hear the ringtone. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. « Your contact isn’t available at the moment… » Minho swore as he was welcomed by the robotic voice. « Please leave a message after the ri… ». He hung up and dialed the number again and again and again. Finally, no automatic message but a deep upset voice, which was pretty rare. « For love sake, Minho. Why are you calling me ? I was preparing my aim. You better have a good reason to bother me and make me miss my shot. » he groaned. « My human. Y/N. She’s hesitant. » He heard his brother sighing. « And ? It happens all the time. Give her one more week and she will be ready. Now, if you may exc… » Loosing his temper, Minho cut him off. « It’s not like usual. And, for your knowledge, my clients never hesitate on their feelings. » he cockily added. Felix laughed. « Ok. Then, describe me how is it different ? ». Minho could hear the noises of the city coming from the end of the line. « I don’t feel that energy coming from her, it’s like… glowing a different way. And I have that constant itch bothering me... » he whispered, confused by the events. « Have you ever heard of someone changing their fate ? » « Minho. It’s written in the stars, it’s impossible to undo it. » the angel stated firmly. « Are you sure ? Wasn’t there any case of someone rewriting them ? » His voice felt desperate and he was. He was hundred percent sure that something odd was happening. A loud silence echoed his question. « Do you want my honest opinion ? » « Please. » he begged. « I think you’re the one with an unsteady heart. You’ve been around Y/N for too long. You’ve never spent much time with one of your assigned mortal and your magic is weakening. » Felix answered. Offended, the god of love received those words like a slap in the face. However, it would explain his discomfort. « This is nonsense. I’m telli… » but he hadn’t time to finish his sentence. « One week and not a single day more. » The ringtone resonated, announcing the final sentence.

One week. He had to calculate all his next moves. If Felix was right, nobody knew what would happened if Minho was loosing his power. Yet, he wasn’t scared about it but was terrified at the idea of loosing you forever. Once his job done, it would be as if he had never existed. You would remember a presence but would not be able to put a name or a face on it. Usually, Minho considered his mission like a book. He had to get into it, enjoy it, untangle the plot and put it on a shelf once done. With you, he wanted the story to keep going. However, he was supposed to be a side character and not a main one. The love god felt stupid and bothered by that strange sensation squeezing his heart. What was it ? He could only identify anger and disappointment. His fists were clenched and he had to fight the urge to punch the nearest wall. This is when you decided to intervene. He felt his phone buzzing. The screen illuminated the room he was in.

y/n: want to grab a coffee before class tomorrow ?

minho: sure!

y/n: perfect! see u :)

He sighed. He had to find a solution by the next morning and make you and Thomas fall in love, for once and for all. That night, the brown haired boy barely slept.

You were waiting for your friend in front of the coffee shop. Minho appeared at the corner, disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. « Wow, you definitely need some coffee. » You teased him. He groaned and opened the door for you. « Barely slept. » he briefly explained. « Thanks, I had noticed. » you scoffed. Once your coffee taken, you strolled along the path toward university campus, backpacks slung over your shoulders. « So, any plans for the weekend ? » the love god asked, trying his best to look cheerful. You shrugged, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips. « Not much, just the usual. Probably bury myself in textbooks and drown in a sea of caffeine. Exams are coming up. »

Minho rolled his eyes, nudging you with his elbow. « Come on, Y/N, you need to loosen up a bit. Life's not all about studying. Besides, I heard there's a party happening this Saturday. You have to come with me. » Your ears perked up at the mention of a party, your curiosity piqued. It has been a while since you wen to a party and going there with Minho sounded even greater. « A party, huh? Sounds intriguing. Who's throwing it ? ». The brown haired boy flashed you a mischievous smile. « Oh, you know, just some friends from the other campus. But here's the juicy part – I heard that Thomas will be there. »

At the mention of Thomas’ name, your heart sunk a little. Maybe you would finally be able to put a word on your feelings for him, know if it was a small crush or something more serious. Maybe you would understand why you felt jelly and happier than ever around Minho too…

« Thomas? » you echoed, « Are you sure? ». The love god nodded enthusiastically. Going to a party was a simple strategy but it often worked. "Positive! This could be your chance to make a move. » He winked. You rolled your eyes. « Shush. I’m not even sure if I want to be with him anymore. » you whined. « Then it’s the perfect occasion, right ? » He was right. « Alright, you've convinced me, » you finally replied, a determined glint in your eyes. « I'll go to the party with you. ». Minho seemed relieved by your answer and closed the gap between the both of you to quickly kiss your cheeks. That sudden move of affection startled you as you brought a hand to your face. « Good! I will see you later then. » he waved you goodbye and disappeared in the corridor. As he rushed to his class, mixed feelings and a strong sensation of warmth filled his system.

When he came back home on that day, the deity decided to face his own feelings. The kiss on your cheek ? It felt natural, yet really odd. Never he had done this with a mortal before but he wanted to try again. As he sat there, lost in the midst of his own thoughts, he couldn't shake the strange sensation that had been creeping up on him lately. It was like a whisper in the back of his mind, gentle yet persistent, nudging him to pay attention to something he hadn't noticed — or even felt — before.

At first, he brushed it off as nothing more than a weakness, a fleeting moment of curiosity. But the more he tried to ignore it, the louder it became, until it was impossible to ignore any longer. It was a feeling, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting, like sunbathing on fresh grass. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, couldn't find the words to describe it, but it was there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged.

Suddenly it hit him, like a bolt of lightning. Could it be...? No, it couldn't. It was absurd, unthinkable, impossible. He was a god of love, he was here to help mortals not to fa… No, no, no. And yet, the more he tried to deny it, the more it seemed to make sense. He was definitely falling for you, for your laughter that echoed like music in his ears, for your smile that lit up even the darkest corners of his heart. It was a realization that sent his mind into a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty.

What did it mean? What was he supposed to do with these newfound feelings ? What was going to happen to you, your fate, his powers ? He felt torn, caught between the familiarity of the past and the uncertainty of the future. Part of him wanted to hold onto what he knew, to the comfort of familiarity, while another part yearned to embrace this new, unknown territory with open arms. But one thing was clear amidst the chaos of his thoughts: he couldn't ignore this feeling any longer. It was a part of him now, a piece of the puzzle that had been missing all along or messing with the stars. And whether it led him down a path of heartache, he knew he had to face it head-on, for better or for worse. He was scared, obviously. However, he would enjoy his final days with you, shoot his arrow and disappear. He would get another mission and drown his feelings, trying to forget about you for the rest of his immortal life…

Days passed by, slipping from his hands, and weekend was already there. He dressed himself up and headed to the party. As he was getting closer of his friend’s house, he felt his heart sinking. When he entered the place, the thumping bass reverberated through the crowded living room as Minho scanned the sea of faces, his heart pounding in his chest with a mix of excitement and gloom. He had promised himself that tonight would be the night he finally bonded you and Thomas for eternity, but now that the moment was upon him, doubt gnawed at his resolve like a persistent itch.

Spotting you across the room, your radiant smile lighting up the dimly lit space, Minho's breath caught in his throat. You looked absolutely stunning, your eyes sparkling with laughter — you seemed a bit tipsy too — as you mingled effortlessly with the other partygoers.

Determined to seize the opportunity before it slipped through his fingers, Minho made his way through the crowd, weaving between bodies. But just as he reached out to tap your shoulder, a voice cut through the din like a knife slicing through butter.

« Hey, Minho! What are you doing over here all by yourself ? »

Minho turned to find Felix grinning at him, a beer in hand and mischief dancing in his eyes. « Felix… What are you doing here ? »

Felix arched an eyebrow, his grin widening into a knowing smirk, except that his eyes felt low-key frightening. Minho had never seen that look on his face before. « Let me guess – you're trying to find Y/N, aren't you ? I hope it’s to do your job. Tomorrow is your last chance if you can’t do it tonight, which would honestly be a shame.»

Minho felt the heat rise to his cheeks, cursing himself for being so transparent. « Yeah, actually. I was hoping to talk to her. »

Felix chuckled, clapping Minho on the back in a gesture of camaraderie. « Talk to her about what exactly ? » he aggressively whispered. « You were right, Minho. The ancient gods noticed your weird behavior and they’re now asking for results. That’s why they sent me here tonight. Also, I hate to break it to you, but it looks like she's already found her right match."

Minho's heart sank like a stone as he followed Felix's gaze across the room, where you were engaged in animated conversation with none other than Thomas. His stomach churned with jealousy and disappointment as he watched you laugh and joke together, your easy proximity like a dagger to his heart.

Desperate to salvage the situation before it spiraled out of control, Minho racked his brain for a way to interrupt. But before he could formulate a plan, fate intervened in the cruelest of ways, as Thomas locked eyes with yours and began to make his way toward you with the inevitability of two stars on a collision course.

With a unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach, Minho realized that his efforts to keep you for himself would be in vain. And as he watched you both draw closer, he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he had been fighting a losing battle all along.

But even as the bitter sting of defeat washed over him like a wave crashing against the shore, Minho knew that he couldn't give up hope just yet. For in matters of the heart, anything was possible – even miracles. Adrenaline rushing through his veins, he nearly sprinted in your direction, pushing away the guests and ignoring his brother’s screams.

With newfound determination burning bright within him, Minho felt prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that love was worth fighting for – even if it meant risking everything he held dear: his powers, his own life. Because what would happen if things weren’t turning the way they should ? He was going against destiny and it had messed up yours too. And, if he lost his powers, you would probably forgot about him since your friendship had, at first, been built on the illusions he had created.

And as the party raged on around him, Minho took a deep breath and stepped boldly between the two of you, stopping Thomas from achieving his move whether it was a hug or a kiss. The man seemed surprised and offended. « Yo… Do we know each other ? » he asked. « We don’t, but I'm here with her. » Minho held your hand in his, the warmth of his skin against your sending electricity into your veins. You looked at them, glaring at each other as a third guy — blond hair and an angelic face — approached you. Who was he and why it looked like he wanted to punch Minho in the face ? Focusing back on the brown haired boy and Thomas, you said « Minho, it’s fine we were just talking. » He turned his head, frowning, his grip on your hand strengthening. Yet, behind that visible annoyance, you could notice despair and softness in his eyes. « Well, I need to talk to you too. » Before you or Thomas could add a word, he made you follow him across the room. The blond guy was still following you but was struggling to slide between the students. You went upstairs, Minho was trying to find a place where people weren’t making out or throwing up. Eventually, a couple left one of the room, giving you the opportunity to get some privacy.

The love god closed the door behind you, letting your hand go. « I don’t have much time and I honestly don’t know what’s going to happen after but… I have to try. »

« What are you talking about ? » you chuckled nervously, your mouth getting dry. « Remember when I told you I’ve never loved anyone before ? » he asked. You nodded, anticipating. He walked closer to you, putting a strand of hair behind your ear in a tender gesture, looking at your face features as if trying to engrave them in his mind. « It took me long enough to admit it but I did… No, I do love someone. » « Oh… » you sounded disappointed, your heart starting to be torn into pieces until you felt your friend’s lips on yours. His hands cupped your face, your eyes widened as his were closing, a single tear threatening to fall anytime. Almost instantly, you drowned onto his touch, your lips moving in perfect sync as your fists were gripping his shirt. Your heart was beating so loudly that it echoed in your eardrum and you felt butterflies getting restless in the pit of your stomach.

A deep muffled voice could be heard from behind the walls as Minho delicately stepped away from you. As soon as his lips detached from yours, you started to miss them like you would miss oxygen to breathe. « Minho you know about Tho… » « Don’t worry » a tear was rolling down his cheek and he quickly whipped it. « I know you like him… But, I had to try… ». However, you didn’t feel that way about your old crush. You had a little something for him, yes, but the feeling you had for Minho was stronger than anything you had felt before. You loved him. « Minho I lo… » you couldn’t confess fully when the same innocent looking guy you had seen earlier crashed into the room.

« Minho. I hope you didn’t do anything stupid or… » however his face started to break down. Scared, you looked at Minho who was getting paler second after second. You rushed to support him as his knees felt weaker. He could feel it, his magic leaving his body. He felt so sleepy, the itch getting intense and your and Felix’s voices sounded faint. Felix cursed as he was walking toward you. « Don’t come closer ! » you warned him, not forgetting the way he looked at him before. Not listening to you, he put one of Minho’s arm around his shoulder and helped him laying down. « Wh-what are you doing ? We need to call an ambulance. » you stuttered. Felix bitterly laughed « Your mortals shit wouldn’t help him, now move aside. ».

Everything was becoming blurry and dark for the brown haired boy. Laid down, he could see Felix’s lips moving hastily, trying to cast a spell, while your hands were holding his left one tightly. « Mor… What ? ». The blond hair guy didn’t answer, his hands moving above Minho. You couldn’t see anything but the deity did. Slowly, a golden arrow was appearing on his brother’s hands, shining brightly.

You were done with this strange guy. With trembling hands, you took your phone and dialed the emergency number. Immediately, someone answered you and asked for the reason of your call.

« My friend is… He is really pale and… he doesn’t speak anymore. I… Yes, he’s breathing. No… »

Conversation kept going as you described his state, distracted and barely paying attention to Felix who was finally done casting his spell. The arrow weighted heavily on his hands, more than usual. He looked at his brother with uncertainty. The ancient gods gave him the mission to do the necessary to help Minho, no matter what, even if it had to cost him his life. His throat was burning and his hands were holding the arrow so firmly that his knuckles were turning white. With a gain of lucidity, Minho looked at Felix. Who would have thought that his biggest ally would turn out to be his greatest enemy, love itself. Minho knew what would happen if the angel was planting the arrow on his chest. He would die. It was created for mortals only and unique for each of them. Defying destiny was dangerous. Without his power he wouldn’t be able to live, he was doomed by a love curse.

« Do it. » he whispered, his words so faint he could barely hear them himself.

Felix looked at him, a frown on his face and teary eyes. The brown haired boy repeated his demand, more loudly this time. His brother closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, holding the arrow still, right above Minho’s heart. « Remember that you did this to yourself. » Felix’s deep voice broke. « I should have noticed your behavior… I’m sorry, brother. ».

Distracted by the sudden agitation at the corner of your eyes. You noticed that the blond hair guy was holding both his hands above your friend. Confused, you looked at them, not answering on the phone anymore. Suddenly, Felix slammed his fists on his brother’s chest.

The last things Minho could remember was your scream, you pushing Felix as his tears were falling on Minho’s face like a warm summer rain, his energy swirling in a thundery way around him, and the blinding light of the arrow painfully entering his rib cage. He wasn’t regretting his decision. He hoped his brother wouldn’t blame himself. As he said, Minho had did this to himself and, for as long as he could remember, he had never felt so alive. He was happy that he had been able to meet you, love you, share his feelings with you. It costed him his life, yet, he knew that it wouldn’t have been the same if you weren’t part of it. Fortunately, you would forget everything about this thanks to Felix. It would be like a blurry nightmare, nothing more, even if he secretly hoped a part of you would never forget about him. With some sort of contentment, he drowned into darkness.

Darkness. Sounds scary at first but felt familiar to Minho. After all, he had been wandering in their meanders for a long time before becoming a god of love. It felt cosy, like a nest. He didn’t have to think about anything, just let himself sail around. However, that peace wouldn’t last eternally. Slowly, a reddish light appeared, troubling his comatose state, pulling him out of this world.

Bip. Bip. Bip. His eyelids were trembling as he tried to come to his senses. Opening his eyes, he noticed where the sound was coming from. A cardiac monitor was near, perfusions were attached to his wrist. Was he at the hospital ? How was it possible ? And what was that muffled noise ? Scanning his surrounding, he saw him. Felix. His face lighting up as his brother was awaking. He could tell that he was definitely fighting the urge to hold him, scared to hurt him.

« Minho! I… I can’t believe you did it… » he sputtered.

The brown haired boy was confused. « W-why am I here ? » he asked with a hoarse voice. Surprised by it, he brought his hand to his throat. Felix’s face lost his brightness as he started to explain what happened. When the ancient gods sent his brother to bring him back to reason, they also knew that, once every thousand years, a love god could fall for someone. In the manuscripts, few were the ones who survived, most of them loosing their powers before they could do anything except one case. The love god realizing the situation they were in, they decided to shoot the arrow toward themselves, the weapon absorbing all the power but not their soul.

« This is why they told me to do this. They didn’t explain why until I came back… The arrow saved you however… » Felix seemed to hesitate.

« What ? » Minho breathed out.

« You’re a mortal now. »

The blond haired man seemed sorry, it was some sort of punishment for going against fate. Minho wasn’t. He had a second chance to meet you.

« Y/N. How is she ? Does she and Thomas…» he expectantly asked, hope lacing his voice as he tried to sit up properly, in vain, his muscles still weak. Felix softly smiled at his brother. « She’s doing great. And, no, they’re not bonded… ». A sigh of relief escaped Minho’s mouth. « She doesn’t remember me, right ? » he asked, sappy. The angel shook his head. Of course. He had erased her memories with the brown haired boy. Seeing the sadness creeping up Minho’s face, Felix started to rummage into the bag he had across his chest. Finding what he was looking for, he handed them to Minho.

« Here. Welcome to your new life. »

Papers. Lee Minho. Twenty five years old. Born in South Korea. He looked at the angel, baffled. Was it real ?

« Oh! And you’re starting your final year of university this autumn. You better be ready. » Felix added.

« Excuse me ? » Minho groaned.

Several months later.

The crisp morning air was filled with the buzz of anticipation as students hurriedly made their way to their respective classrooms. You rushed through the throng of students, not wanting to be late for your first day. You glanced at your schedule, confirming the room number for your first class of the semester.

As you approached the corridor where your class was to be held, you noticed a figure leaning casually against the wall, engrossed in a book. His rugged charm caught your eye, and you couldn't help but steal a few glances as you neared him. His deep concentration on the book intrigued you. You have never seen him taking this class before. Was he a new student ?

With a hesitant smile, you cleared your throat softly, catching the attention of the young man. He looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Hi, sorry to bother you," you began, your voice soft and friendly. « Do you know if this is where the Literature class is supposed to meet? »

The young man's eyes twinkled with amusement as he closed his book, revealing a cover adorned with intricate designs in a language you didn’t know. "Yes, it is. I'm actually headed there myself," he replied, his voice warm and inviting.

Relief washed over you as you returned his smile. "Great, thank you. I'm Y/N, by the way," you introduced yourself, extending your hand.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Minho," he replied, accepting your handshake with a gentle grip.

Your brief introduction was interrupted by the sound of the classroom door opening nearby, signaling the start of the class. You looked at your watch, realizing you were running out of time.

"Well, it looks like we better head in," you said with a nod towards the open door.

Minho agreed, falling into step beside you as you made your way into the classroom together. As you found seats near each other, you couldn't shake the feeling of serendipity that hung in the air. You didn’t know him, yet, you felt a deep connection and a sensation of deja-vu.

As the professor began the lesson, you stole another glance at Minho, captivated by his features and feeling grateful for the unexpected connection fate had brought you that morning.

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