#Will the two be separated upon arriving their destination? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

c0ffe3c4t · 2 months ago

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❝ THE WOLF AND THE LION MAKE A RARE COMBINATION. ❞

PAIRING : Cersei Lannister x Male! Stark! Reader

SYNOPSIS : Lovers were made to defy fate, even when it tears them apart.

WARNINGS : Explicit sexual content, mentions of violence, torture, toxic relationship, attempted murder, murder, morally questionable actions, infidelity.

They say that first love is never forgotten, and the one between Reader and Cersei was one that overflowed with the inevitability of destiny. Wolf and Lion, Lannister and Stark, two forces so antagonistic that, when united, they seemed to defy all logic. Their story was more than a forbidden love; it was a bond so deep that neither the whispers of the court, nor betrayals, nor the weight of the years could undo it. Over the years, their relationship shifted from a secret, fiery romance to a silent, almost imperceptible alliance, where they no longer recognized each other as lovers, but as something more: as those who were made to be together, despite the fate that opposed them.

Though their love began in darkness, in the shadows of broken promises and unlikely alliances, what grew between them was more than passion: it was an unbreakable complicity. Cersei loved Reader like no one else. He was not only her first lover, her first betrothed, her first everything, but also the only person who ever understood the desire and fear that nestled in her heart. When her engagement was torn apart to marry Robert Baratheon, a close friend of Reader’s, her world collapsed. But that was not enough to separate them. It couldn’t, and she didn’t want it to. The passion they shared didn’t die; it grew in secret, fueled by the certainty that, despite everything, their love would endure.

Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella were the tangible proof of their hidden relationship. Bastards born from a love that no one saw, but that had always been there. As for Reader, he also came to know fatherhood with the birth of Sansa, a daughter born under painful circumstances, after the death of his wife, Cassandra Tully. He had never loved Cassandra, but he didn’t hate her either. Her death was a silent shadow that never disappeared, but Sansa filled that space with her presence. And despite the discomfort in his chest from losing the mother of his daughter, his love for her was a comfort in his heart.

Cersei, for her part, had loved Reader with the purity of a first love that neither time nor ambition could corrupt. In fact, over the years, she came to forget her desire to be queen. She didn’t care about the throne or the crown; all she wanted was him. Only him. No one else could take his place, no one else could understand her the way he did. The ambition for power faded when she realized that Reader’s love was all she needed, more than any golden crown.

Fate, however, had other plans. When Jon Arryn discovered their secret, he planned to reveal the truth to Robert, but death came to him from a sudden “illness,” and Reader was named Hand of the King. Upon arriving in the capital, his relationship with Cersei not only continued but intensified. They found each other once more, between the shadows and hallways of a palace full of lies. The walls could hear their whispers, and the servants saw the looks charged with desire, but the world would never know the truth they shared.

Yet, it didn’t matter what the world thought. Cersei and Reader, despite their flaws, were two beings destined to unite, two souls born to intertwine despite the challenges life presented them. Both were selfish, ambitious, bad people by the court’s judgment, but together, in their secret union, they were invincible. Wolves disguised as lambs, ruling with cunning and passion, while the world beyond their doors continued to ignore who they truly were.

Fate could try to separate them, but they would always, always find their way back to each other. Because somewhere in the universe, where the stars couldn’t see, the wolf and the lion had chosen each other, and there was no force in this world or the next that could break that bond.

Made to be together, they always had been. Though the world was a stage of lies and betrayals, they remained the only truths amidst the chaos. And perhaps that was the most beautiful thing of all: that their love, though veiled in shadows, was stronger than anything that could separate them.

Cersei Lannister was not a particularly affectionate woman. Her love, when she gave it, was often harsh, wrapped in thorns, camouflaged in biting words and sharp looks. But she knew Reader well enough to notice when something tormented him, when the demons of his mind swirled around him with an intensity that not even the strongest wine could dissipate.

That morning, she found him sitting by the window, a cup in his hand, his gaze lost in the horizon. The golden sunlight of King’s Landing illuminated his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw, the shadow of a thought he didn’t share with anyone.

Without a word, Cersei approached and slid a hand across his cheek, an unexpectedly gentle gesture. Reader blinked, surprised, and their eyes met. In silence, she brought her palm to her lips and placed a soft kiss on his skin.

—Since when are you so melancholic? —Cersei murmured with a hint of mockery, though she didn’t move her hand.

Reader didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he drew Cersei closer and rested his head against her hip, like a wolf seeking refuge in its lioness. Her scent enveloped him, that intoxicating mix of wine and floral perfume that felt so familiar.

—I’m not melancholic —he finally replied, his usual nonchalant tone, though his posture betrayed something else.

Cersei clicked her tongue, running her fingers through his hair absentmindedly.

—Of course not —she said with a sly smile—. You’re just clinging to me like a puppy needing affection.

Reader let out a low laugh, not moving.

—I’m surprised you didn’t call me a “dog” instead of a “puppy.”

—I respect you too much for that —Cersei replied, pretending to be serious. Then, leaning in just slightly, she whispered against his ear—. Besides, wolves are much more entertaining.

Reader shook his head, smiling faintly.

—If this is your way of consoling me, I must say it’s terribly ineffective.

Cersei laughed softly, tangling her fingers in his hair with a gesture that seemed more instinctive than deliberate.

—I don’t console —she said with her usual arrogance—. But if you want a distraction… I can offer that.

Reader raised an eyebrow, looking up at her.

—you have a very particular idea of what compassion is, dear.

—And you of what distraction is? —Cersei retorted with a mischievous smile, leaning in to steal a quick kiss.

Reader sighed and, without thinking much, rubbed his face against Cersei’s fine dress, enjoying the texture of the fabric against his skin.

—Sometimes you’re so tame, did you know that? —she said with amusement and a hint of curiosity.

—You’re comfortable, beautiful —he replied, his voice muffled against the fabric.

Cersei let out a brief laugh, part amused, part incredulous.

—you could have said something more poetic.

—I could have —he conceded—, but I prefer the truth.

Cersei sighed, but didn’t pull away. Her fingers continued to slide through his hair absentmindedly, as if the gesture had become a silent habit between them. It wasn’t something she would do with anyone, not even with her own children, but Reader had always been the exception.

—Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you’d better fix it quickly —she said in her usual carefree tone, though there was a hidden truth in her words—. I don’t like seeing you like this.

Reader smiled faintly.

—Do you care about my well-being?

Cersei clicked her tongue.

—Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just saying I don’t like seeing you with that beaten-dog look. It ruins my mood.

Reader let out a soft chuckle.

—Oh, how considerate of you.

—I know —she said with a teasing smile.

Definitely, the lion and the wolf were a strange combination, two beasts who shouldn’t coexist, but somehow, they worked. In their twisted way, their love was a balance between arrogance and devotion, between mockery and loyalty. And, against all odds, they kept choosing each other. Again and again.

୨୧

The Red Keep was a labyrinth of intrigue and silence, but that night, the solitude of the walls and the flickering shadows of the candles created the perfect atmosphere for a forbidden meeting.

Cersei had entered without warning, as always, with her elegant bearing and presence that seemed to fill every corner of the room. Reader was at his desk, going through some papers, but their eyes met with the same intensity they had crossed paths with so many times before. There were no words at first, just a look, one that carried more history and desire than words could describe.

Cersei approached, not in a hurry, with a smile on her lips that reflected a mix of amusement and challenge.

—Don't you get tired of working so much, Reader? —Her voice was soft, but there was something sharp about it, as always.

—And don't you get tired of entering without being invited? —he replied, not lifting his eyes from the papers, though his tone suggested he enjoyed the situation.

Cersei walked towards him, with the confidence that defined her, and when she reached his side, her fingers lightly touched his shoulders, moving up toward his neck. Her proximity always had an effect on him, though he tried not to show it.

—Sometimes I wonder how someone as... serious as you can be so much fun. —Cersei let out a low laugh, one that was both a mockery and an invitation.

Reader finally lifted his gaze, his eyes meeting hers, and the tension between them became palpable. It wasn't the first time Cersei was in his space, and it wasn't the first time they shared such closeness. Both knew that what existed between them was something impossible, something that should never exist, but like a sweet poison, it always resurfaced.

—Maybe it's because I'm so serious that I make things more interesting for you. —His tone grew a little more challenging, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

Cersei couldn't help but smile again, this time more seductively. Without saying more, she sat in Reader's lap, without asking permission. Her body adjusted easily to his, and her hands began playing with the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning them with an almost exasperating slowness, while her lips brushed against his neck with that familiarity only Cersei could achieve.

—You're very confident for someone who doesn't have control, —she said, as her hands slid over his skin.

Reader, with a smile that escaped between his lips, held her hips, not with force, but with a gentleness that conveyed everything they both knew, even though they didn't speak it aloud.

—And you, very impatient for someone who has everything under control. —His voice was filled with sarcasm, but also a calm amusement.

Cersei laughed, moving a little more, enjoying the game between them. He was her challenge, her temptation, and although both knew it wasn't something meant to last longer than the night could offer, there was something about those stolen moments that was irresistible.

—We'll see who has control in the end, Reader —she said, raising an eyebrow as her lips sought his, trapping him in a kiss that left them both breathless for a moment.

And so, the distance between them faded once again, in a secluded corner of the Red Keep, where shadows danced and time seemed to stop. Without words, without promises, only the heat of their bodies and the need to give in to a dangerous, yet inevitable desire.

In the heart of the darkness, unseen by anyone, the wolf and the lion surrendered to their own game. A forbidden love, but one that always found a way to be reborn, time and time again.

The candles flickered with the night breeze, casting trembling shadows on the walls of the Hand of the King's chambers. Cersei's wine glass had been forgotten on the table, and the only thing left between them was the shared warmth of their bodies and the tension that always enveloped them when they were alone.

Cersei was still on him, with her lap as an improvised throne, Reader's hands firm on her waist, as if he were holding her there purely by instinct. She played with the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning them with an almost irritating slowness, while a mocking smile adorned her lips.

—You're always so patient, —she whispered, brushing her lips against his without kissing him completely—. I wonder how much more you can bear.

Reader let out a sigh, part amused and part exasperated.

—Patience is a virtue, dear.

—A virtue you don't have, —she replied, sliding a nail down his exposed collarbone.

He raised an eyebrow.

—You offend me.

Cersei smiled maliciously, leaning in slightly to bite his lower lip softly before trapping it in a deep kiss, one that he responded to with equal intensity. Her hands slowly descended down his sides until they met the ribbon of her dress, but before releasing it, she paused.

—Doubt? —she teased, her voice barely a whisper.

—No —he answered without hesitation—. I just enjoy watching how impatient you become when you don't have control.

Cersei let out a soft, dangerous laugh.

—I let you believe you have control because it amuses me, not because it's true.

Reader smiled to the side, not taking his eyes off hers.

—Then amuse me.

The air between them grew even thicker, and this time, there were no more provocations, just the brush of skin against skin, the broken sound of their breaths, and the echo of a love that was never meant to exist... but always found a way to be reborn in the dark.

Cersei adjusted herself better on his lap, moving just enough to provoke a reaction in him. Reader didn't give her the satisfaction of reacting immediately, although his grip on her waist tightened slightly. The queen noticed and smiled, with that sly expression that had always fascinated and exasperated him equally.

—You still haven't done anything, —she murmured against his ear, her warm breath sending a shiver down his spine.

Reader let out a low laugh, tired but amused.

—Since when do you enjoy torturing me so much?

Cersei ran her fingers along the opening of his shirt, her nails barely grazing his skin.

—Since I discovered how easy it is to make you lose your head.

He looked at her with feigned indifference, though his eyes betrayed him. It was always like this between them. A dangerous game, a constant struggle for control that, in the end, they were both willing to lose.

—What if someone enters? —he asked, his tone clearly mocking.

Cersei let out a soft laugh.

—You're the Hand of the King, no one would dare interrupt you.

—Oh, what an honor —he said sarcastically, finally sliding a hand to remove her low-cut dress.

She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensation, before looking at him with intensity.

—Is that all you've got, Stark? —she challenged, with a dangerous smile.

Reader smiled to the side.

—You tell me.

There were no more words. They didn't need any.

Reader, without letting go of her, lifted her with surprising ease, his hands firm on her hips. He carried her to the large mahogany desk, gently letting her fall onto the cold, polished surface. The impact made her moan, a low, guttural sound that echoed in the silence of the room. Her dress, already partially torn from their passionate struggle, slid down her legs, exposing her naked body, her breasts pressing against Reader's chest.

—Shit, Stark... —Cersei gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Her full, firm breasts moved with each thrust, brushing against his skin, creating friction that sparked the fire of her desire even more.

Reader looked at her, the intensity in his eyes reflecting the passion that consumed them. With slow, deliberate movements, he began to penetrate her, his body moving against hers with a force that made her arch over the desk. Each thrust was a strike, a claim, an act of possession.

—You're a delicious whore, Cersei... —murmured Reader, his voice rough with pleasure. His hands gripped her hips, squeezing tightly, as his body moved in an unrelenting rhythm.

—Fuck... yes... more... —Cersei moaned, her words broken by pleasure. Her nails scratched his back, leaving red marks that would soon become memories of their encounter. Her breasts, pressed against his chest, moved with each thrust, the friction intensifying the sensation.

The sound of their bodies colliding, the rubbing of skin against cold mahogany, the gasping of their breaths intertwined, filled the room with a symphony of unrestrained passion. Reader kissed her fiercely, his lips seeking hers, his tongue exploring her mouth with a hungry urgency. His hands roamed her body, caressing her skin, exploring every curve, every inch.

—I want you... —Cersei whispered, her voice barely audible among her moans. The words, spoken in the middle of ecstasy, carried greater weight, an intensity that transcended mere physical pleasure. It was a total surrender, a confession of love and desire amid the whirlwind of their bodies.

Reader, overcome by passion, thrust into her with more force, his body moving with brutal intensity. Cersei moaned, her body arching, her fingers gripping his hair. The pleasure intensified, a wave that dragged them both to a point of no return. Their bodies became one, a whirlwind of sensations that took them to the limit.

—Bastard... —Cersei gasped, just before reaching climax. Her body tensed, a powerful release that left her trembling, exhausted but satisfied.

Reader collapsed on top of her, his body heavy on hers. Silence returned, broken only by the sound of their labored breaths and the rapid beating of their hearts. The heat of their intertwined bodies, the scent of their sweat, and the memory of their passion remained as an indelible mark on the cold mahogany of the desk. The wolf and the lion, united in a wild and dangerous act of love, had surrendered completely to the storm of their desire.

୨୧

Reader was not known for being a good person. His reputation was dark, tainted by the shadows of his past. During Robert's Rebellion, he had played a feared and bloody role, a man willing to capture and torture those on the opposite side of the Lannisters. Those who did not yield under the weight of his interrogations knew that the reward for their resistance was even more cruel: the torture with which he extracted secrets, breaking men down to their bones, to their souls. The stories that circulated about him said that he had even forced a direwolf, with black fur and a mark around its eye, to tear apart alive the men who dared to be loyal to the Targaryens. There was no mercy in his methods, no remorse, only the need to get what he wanted, at any cost.

Cersei, of course, was not much different. Though her name was wrapped in the gold of House Lannister and the intrigues of the court, her heart was as hardened as Reader's. She, the woman who had witnessed betrayals, murders, who had maneuvered through shadows with cunning and without hesitation, dirtying her hands with blood if necessary. She was not the protective mother she pretended to be, nor the just queen the stories claimed her to be; her ambition and desire for power were above all else, even the family bonds she so loudly proclaimed. The idea of morality was never something Cersei embraced; the end always justified the means, and her enemies were always enemies to the death.

In the context of their relationship, both Reader and Cersei understood each other in their harsh view of the world. It was not about finding comfort in each other, but about finding a unique complicity, one that only men and women willing to dirty their hands could understand. They were two pieces of the same board, willing to do whatever it took to win, regardless of what the rest of the world thought of them.

Of course, they knew they were not good, nor did they pretend to be. On the contrary, they embraced their darkness, knowing that the world they lived in left no room for the weak. In that sense, there was a palpable attraction between them: both moved through the same shadows, willing to do whatever necessary to seize power, even if it meant descending into vileness.

Reader did not expect Cersei to understand him in the same way that he understood her. Their minds were as sharp as their swords, but they shared a mutual respect for their indifference toward good and evil. There was only what they wanted, what they needed, what they were willing to sacrifice to achieve their goals. And in that moral abyss, they found each other again, seeking solace in the company of another monster, knowing that the world would not stop to judge them.

It was a dirty game, one of power, of survival, and both knew that in this game, only the most ruthless would come out victorious.

୨୧

Reader wrapped his arms around Cersei’s waist from behind, his hands gliding over her abdomen with deceptive softness. He leaned in just enough to leave a kiss on her bare shoulder, a gesture almost absent, more habit than tenderness. Cersei, with her gaze lost in the dimly lit room, didn’t react immediately. Her thoughts were elsewhere, and he noticed.

—I don’t like it when you get like this —murmured Reader against her skin, his warm breath sliding over her collarbone.

Cersei let out a soft sigh before responding.

—The boy woke up.

Reader paused his caresses for a moment. He didn’t need to ask which boy she was referring to. Bran Stark. Her nephew. The little one who, without thinking too much, had seen them kiss and halfway undress, and hadn’t hesitated to throw him from the tower. Not with hate, not even with rage, but with the cold determination of a man who knew secrets were nothing more than daggers waiting to pierce the backs of the careless.

—And he still doesn’t remember anything —Reader replied, his tone indifferent, though it didn’t quite match the tension in his jaw.

Cersei then turned to face him, her golden eyes sharp as the edge of a sword.

—For now. But if he ever does…

—If he ever does, we’ll take care of it —Reader declared, placing a hand on her cheek. His thumb caressed her skin with an unexpectedly intimate gesture, briefly dispelling the coldness of the matter they were concerned with.

Cersei tilted her face slightly, enjoying the touch. Despite everything, Reader always had that way of calming her mind, anchoring it to the present.

—We can’t afford mistakes —she whispered, more to herself than to him.

—We’ve never allowed them, and we won’t start now —Reader murmured, drawing close enough for their lips to brush in a silent promise.

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she slid her fingers through his hair, gripping it as if she could extract certainty from the contact. Then, with the same calm with which they shared every dangerous secret, their lips met in a slow kiss, more possessive than affectionate.

Reader smiled faintly against her mouth.

—Don’t look at me like that —he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.

—Like what? —Cersei asked, arching an eyebrow.

—Like you want to devour me.

Cersei let out a brief laugh and tangled her fingers in his hair more firmly.

—Maybe I will.

Reader tilted his head, his gaze burning.

—Do it.

And as so many times before, amidst intrigue and danger, they abandoned themselves to each other in the only certainty they had left: their own.

Reader loved Cersei, and Cersei loved Reader. It was not a tender or gentle love, but a love that was ravenous, possessive, and dark, fueled by desire and ambition. They belonged to each other, body and soul, but more than that, they consumed each other with a mutual obsession.

They understood each other on a level beyond words. Reader could read in Cersei’s golden eyes every thought, every fear disguised as arrogance. And she, in turn, knew that he would never hesitate to stain his hands with blood for her, just as she would for him. No boundaries or morals mattered, only the two of them.

—You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you? —Cersei whispered, a cryptic smile on her lips as she ran her fingers along the line of his jaw.

—You know I would —Reader replied without hesitation, leaning in to brush his lips against hers, barely a touch but full of silent promises.

—Even if it meant burning the entire world?

—On the ashes, you’d still be my queen.

Cersei smiled, satisfied with the answer, and pulled him closer, intertwining her fingers in his hair. They kissed with the same passion with which they ruled, with the same intensity with which they destroyed.

They weren’t the kind of love that inspired bards’ songs. They were the kind of love that would be whispered over wine, the kind of love that brought ruin to those who stood in their way. And yet, neither of them cared.

Because in the game of power, the only safe refuge they had was in each other.

—Maggie ☕

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gunilslaugh · 8 months ago

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Building Blocks

Oh Seungmin Summary: It seemed like your whole life you were destined to live in your older brother’s shadow. Although there are still people who have the ability to see you, one of them being Oh Seungmin, your brother’s best friend. WC:~10.1K Warning: Inaccurate information about architecture. Note: Reader is Gunil’s younger sister.

photo not mine credits to owner.

It was your first day of your second year of college tomorrow and you were just the slightest bit hopeful that people would stop comparing you to your older brother.

“Goo? Like Goo Gunil? You’re Gunil’s little sister aren’t you?” Your sprinkle of hope was quickly crushed upon those words being the first thing your professor asked you.

“Yes, Goo y/n…Gunil’s little sister” you say a bit reluctantly.

“I expect great things of you then,” your professor tells you. You nod and go take a seat.

“So you’re Gunil’s little sister?” A fellow classmate is quick to turn to you.

“My name is y/n,” you inform them.

“Right, you’re gonna have it easy,” they said.

“Huh?” you ask.

“Oh come on, your brother is Goo Gunil. He’s a legend and like the ultimate cheat sheet for you. If you ever need to help you can just go to your brother. I’d kill to be you man.”

So you’d rather be referred to as Gunil’s sister more than your own name? You want to have 95% of people who approach you talk about your brother? You’d rather be seen as an extension of your brother rather than your own person? These are all things you want to say, but instead you brush the person off, turning to face the front.

“Y/n!” your best friend Jiseok, one of the few people who sees you as your own person, excitedly greets you. He slides into the seat beside you. “I was scared they would try to separate us,” he joked.

“No way. I don’t think I would survive if we got separated. The first thing the professor asked me was if Gunil was my brother,” you state.

“Already?” Jiseok looked at you sympathetically.

“Why would my second year of college be any different than the rest of my life?” you say halfway joking.

“Don’t say that. I’ll come into class shouting your name everyday till people get it through their skull that you and Gunil are two different people.”

“Thanks” you smile at Jiseok appreciatively.

“Alright it seems like the last of you have filed in, so I’ll get on with it. Welcome to Architecture 102. For your first assignment I’d like to create your own house model. Don’t worry about it being perfect, I just want to see where you all are at. What your styles are. To get to know who you are as people through your work. Submit your sketch to me by Friday and the model will be due the week after,” your professor announces to the class.

“You gonna stick to your signature look?” Jiseok asked you.

“I think that’s the point of this assignment” you chuckle.

“Yeah, but still figured I’d ask. We’re starting out fresh. Thought maybe you’d want to try something new,” he said.

“We’ll see,” you say, pulling out your supplies. You and Jiseok get to work, working on your sketches.

Arriving home after your first day you feel exhausted. Knowing that you have another three years ahead of you fighting against what seems to be your fate of being stuck in Gunil’s shadow. It feels like the title of “Gunil’s little sister” weighs heavier on you than it used to. You really thought college would be better. Everyone was adults now, so certainly they would have more things to care about than who your older brother was, but alas it somehow seems that the comparisons of you and Gunil are about to reach an all time high.

“Hey y/n you’re back,” Seungmin smiles at you from the kitchen table. “How was your first day?” he asked.

“I think half the campus knows me as Gunil’s little sister. All the Architecture majors do at least,” you sigh. A frown tugged at Seungmin’s lips. He knew how tiring of a feat it was for you to always be casted into Gunil’s shadow.

“Should I start picking you up from campus everyday yelling your name till everyone gets the idea that you are your own person,” Seungmin suggested. You let out a chuckle.

“Jiseok said something similar,” You told Seumgmin.

“What did he say?” he questioned.

“He said that he’ll come into class shouting my name everyday till people get it through their skull that you and Gunil are two different people,” you relay Jiseok’s words. A small smile graced Seungmin’s lips. He looks at you with a sincere look.

“There are people who see you for you y/n and I-”

“Y/n when did you get back?” Gunil entered the kitchen.

“Just a bit ago. How was today's meeting?” you questioned before he could ask you about your first day.

“With the help of your planning and preparations it was smooth sailing. Wasn’t it Seungmin?” Gunil responded.

“Went off without a hitch. We’re just tying up the loose ends of it now.” He gestured towards their open laptops.

“You better hurry up and graduate quickly cause as soon as you have your degree I’m passing the business over to you. I love architecture, but being the head of dad’s company was never what I envisioned. He always talked about handing the business over to you and that was certainly for a reason.” Gunil rubs his thumbs over his temples.

“Dad would be proud of you if was still around,”You tell Gunil.

“He’d be proud of you too,” Gunil says. You and him exchange smiles of solidarity.

“Well I have a sketch to work on, so I’ll leave you guys to finish tying up your loose ends,” you say with a hint of playfulness in your tone. You walk out of the kitchen and head up the stairs.

Once you’re out of earshot Gunil says, “I wish y/n was the first born sometimes. She’s way more cut out for this than I am. A better architect too.”

“You’re doing a good job Gunil. Plus you’re not alone, you have y/n and me,” Seungmin comforts him.

“I know and I’m very grateful because I would be at such a loss right now if it was just me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your style is much different from your brother’s,” your Architecture 102 professor notes upon viewing your sketch.

“Well we are different people,” you point out.

“Right, of course you are,” he says offhandedly. “What did your brother say about your sketch?” your professor asked curiously.

“I didn’t show him,” you state.

“You didn’t show him?” he chuckles. “You don’t have to lie. Honestly it would be silly of you not to, so what did he say?” he pressed. You let out a small sigh. You really didn’t show Gunil your sketch, nor did he ever ask to see it.

“He said it reminded him of our father’s work,” you lied.

“It is very reminiscent of your father’s work. The old cabin based framework. It’s nice to see. I look forward to your model.” Your professor approves of your sketch.

“If he brings up Gunil everytime I submit something I’m not going to survive,” you tell Jiseok, slumping down in your seat and letting your head fall onto the desk. Jiseok reaches over and pats your back.

“I can ‘accidently’ whack him with my carrying tube if he keeps it up.” Jiseok’s insinuation successfully makes you laugh.

“I might like to see that even if he discovers that there is no need to continually bring up Gunil whenever he speaks to me.”

“Guess he better watch out for me then,” Jiseok said mischievously.

You and Jiseok are sitting at a table discussing working on your models together when a dirty blonde haired guy approaches the two of you.

“Hey Jiseok, can I get my notes back?” he questioned.

“Oh yeah, of course.” Jiseok begins to dig through his bag.

“Who’s this?” the guy asked Jiseok, tilting his head towards you.

“Oh right. Jungsu this is my best friend y/n. Y/n this is Jungsu he’s in my business management class,” Jisedok introduces the two of you and hands Jungsu his notes back.

“You major in architecture too?” Jungsu asked, pointing to your sketch that laid beside Jiseok’s on the table.

“Yeah,” you smile.

“Jungsu is in his last year. He’s gonna open a flower shop after he graduates,” Jiseok informs.

“Oh, that’s nice. Jiseok and I will have to stop by once you open it,” you say.

“Thanks, what are your plans after graduation? Or is it too stressful to ask sophomores that?” Jiseok laughs a little.

“It’s cool man. I’m gonna work at y/n’s company,” Jiseok states.

“Who said I’d hire you?” you joke. Jiseok gives you an offended look.

“How could you not hire your beloved best friend?” You shake your head playfully.

“I’m gonna take over my dad’s company. My brother is running it right now, but he’s more than eager to pass the position over to me,” you inform Jungsu.

“Who’s your brother?” Jungsu questioned. A shocked expression quickly covers your face.

“W-who’s my brother? It’s possible for me to be asked that.” You look at Jiseok. Jiseok chuckles at your shocked expression while Jungsu grows very confused.

“You just made her month man,” Jiseok states, making Jungsu grow even more confused.

“Sorry,” you say slowly, coming out of my state of shock. “I get compared to my brother a lot. In fact most people know me as his little sister rather than my name, so…thank you.” Seeing how shocked you are and after hearing your words, Jungsu feels a bit of a tug on his heart. He is still a bit confused though.

“You don’t need to tell me who he is then. I should get going now, but it was nice to meet you y/n.” Jungsu takes his leave.

“I seriously didn’t think that was possible,” you say, still feeling taken aback. Jiseok laughs again.

“Looks like Gunil is only a legend in the architecture world. Outside of it there are plenty of people who have no clue who he is.” What just happened gave you some hope that maybe you aren’t fated to be stuck in your older brother’s shadow forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You always look so at peace whenever you’re working on a model.” The voice breaks you out of your tranquil, yet focused state. You turn around to see Seungmin sitting on the couch behind you.

“How long have you been there?” He’s been there a good fifteen minutes. Seungmin has always liked watching you work. You always looked so calm and focused. There was this light in your eyes that showed how much you loved building models. It made Seungmin’s heart feel warm. He thinks that he could watch you work for hours.

“Not long,” he replied. He gets up from the couch to join you on the floor, taking a good look at the model you're currently working on.

“Does it get the Seungmin stamp of approval?” you jokingly question.

“Your own stamp of approval is way more valuable than mine, but yeah I’d give this my stamp of approval.” He gives you a thumbs up.

“Why are you over so late?”

“Gunil needed some help with investment paperwork.”

“He could’ve asked me. You didn’t have to come out here at night.”

“Ah yes cause the five minute drive between your house and mine is just so intolerable,” Seungmin jests, making you chuckle. “He knew you were working on your model, so he didn’t want to bother you,” Seungmin explained. “Are you nervous about having to present it?” You shake your head.

“No, I’m not nervous, but I’m not looking forward to the comments I’ll get about how I probably asked Gunil for advice or whatnot,” you voice. Seungmin places a hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“You and Gunil kill me sometimes,” he states.

“What?” Laughter rumbles through your chest at his unexpected comment.

“You found yourself stuck in Gunil’s shadow, always getting compared to him. Getting your own talent downgraded because ignorant people just assume you must’ve turned to Gunil for help. Meanwhile Gunil is constantly comparing himself to you. Trying to improve himself to be more like you. It’s like this weird cycle that doesn’t make any sense,” Seungmin informs.

“It’s oddly ironic in a way,” you say, a solemn feeling stirring in your chest.

“Finish up your model,” Seungmin gives you a smile, giving your shoulder another squeeze before pulling his hand away. He gets up from the floor and takes his previous spot back on the couch.

“Shouldn’t you be heading out?” you questioned.

“I like watching you work,” he said.

“O..k?” you let out a mix of a scoff and a laugh turning back to put the finishing touches on your model. You quickly fall back into your tranquil, yet focused state as does Seungmin as he watches you work with a small smile etched onto his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, now we're gonna do a fun little group project. Working with the people sitting behind you. You will work together to build a framework that can withstand an earthquake,” Your professor announces. You and Jiseok look at each other first before turning around in your seats to face the two people behind you.

“Ooh we get to work with Gunil’s little sister.” One of your project partners immediately comments upon you and Jiseok turning around.

“Her name is Y/n,” Jiseok states with a hint of annoyance in his voice. He too has grown tired of the constant use of your nickname.

“I-I know, but she is also his sister. It’s not wrong to refer to her as that,” they defend themselves. Clearly a bit taken aback by Jiseok’s tone.

“It may not be wrong, but it does get annoying when I hear that more than my own name,” you voice.

“Aye come on why are you two being so uptight? I didn’t mean any harm, I was just having fun,” they said.

“Let’s just get started on the project,” your other project partner cuts in. The four of you begin to design the framework.

Later towards the end of class the groups took turns setting their designed frameworks on an earthquake simulator to see if their created design was strong enough to withstand an earthquake. When it came time for your group's turn you placed the framework on the simulator and stood back, watching anxiously as your design shook. The shaking of the simulator came to an end and the framework you and your group created was still standing tall. You and your group exchange celebratory high fives.

“I didn’t expect anything less of the group that had Gunil’s sister, but very good job nonetheless,” your professor compliments. However, even in your own victory Gunil’s name was still being brought up. It made your victory feel less sweet. Your happy smile falters slightly and Jiseok notices it. It makes his own happy smile falter as he watches you try to brush it off. Replacing your once happy smile with a fake one. Your group heads back to your seats.

“Should we have lunch with Jungsu today?” Jiseok suggested. A genuine smile makes its way back onto your face that makes Jiseok feel at ease.

“Yeah I like eating with Jungsu and we only have five more months with him before he graduates,” you say.

“Precisely, we need to bother him while we still can. I’ll text him,” Jiseok said, pulling out his phone.

After finishing up your last class for the day you make your way off campus. You walk by a crowd of people. You’re a little curious about what they could be crowding around, but not interested enough to find out.

That was until,”Y/n!” you hear your name being called. You turn around to see Seungmin emerging from the crowd and hurrying his way over to you. The crowd of people watch and almost follow him making you realize that he was what the people were crowding around.

“Seungmin, what are you doing here?” you ask.

“I met with a client in the area. Figured I would pick you up afterwards,” he tells you.

“And create a crowd?” you poke lightheartedly.

“I didn’t think that after graduating three years ago that I would still be popular on campus. I would’ve stayed in the car if I’d known,” he chuckled.

“You and Gunil are legends. Top two of your class,” you say.

“That’s because of you.” Seungmin bumps his shoulder with yours. He escorts you over to his car and opens the passenger door for you.

“Thank you,” you say, slipping into the car. He closes the door behind you and jogs over to the driver’s side, opening the door and settling in.

“Have you thought about interning yet?” Seungmin asked.

“Seungmin I have five, well four cause you need to send in the application a month ahead of time, but still four months before needing to decide where I’ll intern for the summer,” you chuckle.

“It never hurts to be prepared. I was scrambling at the last minute to figure out where to intern.”

“I appreciate your concern. I was planning on deciding after we have the intern fair,” you tell him.

“Speaking of that, I need to prepare for it,” Seungmin notes.

“You’re having a booth?” you question.

“My father decided to let me represent the company this year, yeah,” he answers.

“Represent or draw people in with your pretty face.” You playfully reach your hand out to cup his chin.

“Behave, I am driving.” He grabs your hand with one of his, taking it away from his chin. His hand remains holding yours for a few moments longer than necessary before letting go and bringing his hand back to the wheel.

“Because holding your pretty face is so distracting,” you snicker. Not knowing how distracting it really is for Seungmin. The way he had to try and control his racing heart the moment your hand cupped his chin. How he wanted nothing more than to turn over and look at you. Too see the cheeky smile you probably had on your face. The sparkles in your eyes.

He knew that you would have pulled your hand away from his chin on your own accord. Probably only in a matter of seconds, yet he could not fight the urge of wanting to feel your hand in his.

Seungmin has actually long had feelings for you. He may be best friends with your brother, but you were actually the sibling he saw first. His father had some business with yours and just so happened to bring him along. They were walking up to your father’s office when he saw you through the window. Sitting on your dad’s lap helping him with a model. You looked so at peace and content it stirred something inside Seungmin’s little nine year old heart.

“Mr. Oh you are here, welcome,” your dad greets Seungmin’s father. Standing up from the chair and lifting you from his lap, setting you on the ground. “This is my daughter y/n and son Gunil.” Your dad placed a hand on your shoulder then with his free arm gestured over to where Gunil was sitting on the couch. It was only then that Seungmin noticed the presence of your brother.

“This is my son Seungmin,” his father introduced him.

“How about you kids go acquaint yourselves over there?” Your dad points over to the couch sitting area where Gunil sat on the couch. “I believe our sons are the same age, nine?” your father checked. Mr. Oh nodded in confirmation.

“And your little one?” Mr Oh asked, looking at you.

“Six!” you answered proudly. “Come on, let's leave our fathers to their business.” You take a few steps over to Seungmin grabbing his hand and leading him over to the sitting area. Seungmin smiled at the feeling of your little hand holding his.

“Wait ,does that mean Gunil is going to do a booth for our company too?” you questioned. Seungmin waits a moment before nodding.

“He is, but he doesn’t know if he’s going to go himself or have another company staff go,” Seungmin tells you.

“He can go,” you say. Seungmin glances at you. He’s about to say something, but you beat him to it. “It’s because of me right? I’m the reason he’s unsure about going himself.” You fiddle with your fingers.

“It’s not just that. You know he’s still not really comfortable with all the business stuff. He’s worried about not doing a good job at representing the company,” Seungmin discloses. You let out a sigh.

“Why is he such an overthinker? The intern fair isn't solely about talking business. It’s a lot about talking about the stuff he loves about architecture. Plus most students will just want to intern there because it’s his company. His name on its own will be enough to fill an intern list,” you ramble. Seungmin chuckles lightly at your rambling.

“Tell him that yourself then,” Seungmin insists.

“But do I mention that I’m ok with him doing it or do I just smack him upside the head and tell him to stop overthinking it?” Seungmin can’t help but laugh.

“Do whatever you want,” he says while giggling.

Soon enough Seungmin pulls up in front of your house.

“Are you coming in?” you asked.

“Of course I am.” Seungmin smiles at you. The two of you get out of the car and walk up to your house. You and Seungmin enter the house together and your feet stop in their tracks.

“Mom!” you called out excitedly, dropping your bag onto the floor. Your mom just as excitedly opens her arms rushing over to hug you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” you asked, whilst you two sway side to side, embraced. As far as you knew your mom was supposed to be on her business trip for a few more days.

“I wanted to surprise you,” she says, pulling away to look at you. “How’s college going? I can’t believe you’re already halfway through your sophomore year. Growing up so fast.” She rubbed your shoulders.

“If you think she’s growing up fast then what am I?” Gunil appears through the front door. Your mom immediately goes over to hug Gunil.

“Oh don’t worry you make me feel very old. Seeing you run your dad’s company,” your mom said in a playful tone.

“Does Seungmin make you feel old too?” you jest, resulting in your mom chuckling.

“Yes, of course he does. He is like a second son to me. I watched him grow up with you and Gunil.” Your mom then goes over to give Seungmin a hug too. “Thank you for keeping my house standing,” she tells Seungmin. An offended look falls over both yours and Gunil’s faces.

“Mom we’re literally architects, how can you imply that we would knock the house down? That’s one problem you shouldn't have to worry about” Gunil states.

“Ok, so maybe you two wouldn’t knock it down, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I walked into it and it was completely remodeled one day.”

“You say that like it’d be a bad thing,” you remark. A warm chuckle erupts from your mother.

“Oh, I’m sure you two would do an amazing job.” She slings one arm over either of yours and Gunil’s shoulders, pulling you each into her sides. “But I like the house how it is right now.”

After your cute little reunion you all settle in. Your mom going off to her room for a bit. You were about to go off to your room to work on whatever you needed to get done, however before you can Seungmin stops you by gently grabbing your wrist. Before you can question what he’s doing his eyes shift over to Gunil, who was sitting on the couch, typing away on his laptop. You remember the conversation you had with Seungmin in the car about the intern fair. Then you nod in understanding and make your way over to Gunil. You sit down beside him and knock him with your elbow.

“What?” He turns to look at you.

“Stop overthinking it and do the intern fair,” you tell him.

“How did-” Gunil looks at you puzzledly then looks over to where Seunmgin is sitting at the kitchen table. Seungmin shrugs in response and Gunil sighs. He knows Seungmin must have told you about his troubles concerning the intern fair.

“You showing up only would be enough to get people to sign up for an internship,” you state. Gunil sighs again.

“But that’s not what I want. I want to show that Building Blocks is a really good company. I want people to apply for internships because they want to work for the company. Not work there because it’s my company,” he explained.

“Still we spent probably more than half of our childhood inside of those walls. You know what to say to show how great of a company Building Blocks is. Stop overthinking it.” Gunil remains silent for a few moments, letting your words sink in. He knew that you were right, but his head was still filled with doubts.

“But what if it doesn’t sound professional enough?” Gunil voiced his concern.

“It’s an intern fair not a business proposal. It doesn’t have to be the most professional thing ever. You’re just talking about the company, what they would do as interns there. Just explain how you would to a friend,” you tell him.

“See, you’re so much more cut out for this than I am,” Gunil says.

“Gunil I’m honestly not. You just get too caught up in your own head.” You poke your finger into his head. “Look if you’re too stressed about it I can help you put in together ok?” you offer.

“If you’re offering help I could probably use it too,” Seungmin says in a lighthearted tone, joining you and Gunil on the couch.

“I helped y’all through college, now I’m helping you run companies.” You shake your head jokingly.

“Just think of it as practice, cause Building Blocks will be yours soon enough,” Gunil says.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re more than eager to pass it over to me, but in order to do that I need to graduate. So if you excuse me I’ll be going to work on my assignments now.” You stand up from the couch. “But seriously. Don’t. Think. About. It. So. Much.” You pat Gunil’s head a little harder than necessary in between words. Gunil smacks your hand away from his head.

“Go do your assignments,” he sends you away. You chuckle at his bossy tone as you walk away, heading to your room.

“So you can tell y/n about my problems, but you can’t confess your long time feelings for her?” Gunil turns to face Seungmin after you disappeared off to your room.

“First off, we both know you wouldn’t have been able to do the fair without her telling you too. Secondly, I can’t just confess to her. I’m pretty sure she only sees me as a brother too. She doesn’t really treat me any differently than how she treats you,” Seungmin said.

“‘Doesn’t really’ isn’t ‘the same’ now is it?” Gunil points out.

“We have an intern fair to get prepping for,” Seungmin adverts.

“Seungmin,” Gunil said sternly. “Are you just never going to tell her?”

“Shouldn’t you be going all protective big brother. ‘Stay away from my sister!’ right now?” Seungmin again tries to escape the conversation.

“Seungmin, let's be real you fell in love with her the second her little six year old hand grabbed your little nine year old one. I’m shocked she hasn’t caught on to how you really feel about her,” Gunil states.

“Fortunately she has other things preoccupying her mind,” Seungmin says. Gunil lets out a heavy sigh.

“I don’t think I can just watch you be silently in love with her for the rest of my life man,” he says.

“So what? Are you gonna rat me out?” Seungmin questions.

“Unfortunately, ratting out somebody’s feelings for someone else isn’t really cool, so no. However, I will start bothering you about confessing to her,” Gunil declares.

“Gunil please, I will tell her how I feel one day. I just don’t think now is the right time,” Seungmin states.

“No time like the present,” Gunil pokes.

“Just give me some more time,” Seungmin says.

“How much more time? Till we’re forty?” Gunil folds his arms.

“No, not till we’re forty. Just till I get it fingered out,” Seungmin defends.

“So forty,” Gunil sassed. Seungmin sighed, dropping his head.

“Not forty,” he refuted again. He doesn’t really know how to go about confessing to you though. How was he supposed to tell the girl that he had been in love with his entire life, that he had been in love with you his entire life? He wanted nothing more than to tell how he truly felt, but at the same time he had no clue how to get the words out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the day of the intern fair and frankly as you stood outside of the double doors you seriously debated turning back and just ditching it. Despite the fact that you were so supportive about Gunil doing the intern fair, you were actually dreading it. Mainly because you know that once you walk in through those doors you will be no more than Gunil’s little sister. People won’t want you to intern at their company because you’re you. It will be because you’re Gunil’s little sister. With a deep breath you put on a brave face and walk in through the doors.

After entering the room your eyes scan the room, looking at all the different booths set up. Your eyes fell on where Seungmin was standing talking to a small group of students. A small smile graced your face as you watched Seungmin interacting with the students. He looked so natural as he went over the information in the pamphlet about his company.

“I’m a little shocked to see you here,” the voice of one of your classmates pulls you from your trance.

“Why?” you asked, turning to look at them.

“I just assumed you’d intern at your brother’s company. Seems like the simple thing to do,” they say.

“I’m not interning there. I don’t need people gossiping about how I was handed an internship,” you state. Your classmate nods understandingly.

“But with your last name companies will still probably be quick to offer you an internship you know?” they said. You let out a sigh.

“I know, I’m cursed into being Gunil’s little sister,” you responded. Your classmate’s lips draw into a line at your words.

“I’m sorry by the way,” they apologize.

“For what?” You gave them a slightly perplexed look.

“I just viewed you as Gunil’s little sister too, but after seeing you work in Architecture 102. I can see that you are a really good architect on your own. You don’t need your brother,” they expressed.

“Thanks, that means a lot actually. Most people don’t ever bother to try to get to know me after finding out Gunil is my brother,” you say.

“I will reluctantly say that I was one of them too, but then I overheard you explaining to your group mates during the earthquake simulator and I realized that you really did know what you were talking about,” they tell you.

“Thanks,” you say once more.

“Well, enjoy the fair,” your classmate tells you. You nod telling them a quick “you too” and part ways.

Admittedly the fair was already going better than you expected. However the real battle had not yet begun. You stand there for a few moments looking around the room, trying to decide which booth you should start with.

“If you don’t start with my booth I might be a little offended,” Seungmin spoke from over your shoulder making you jump. “Sorry,” Seungmin chuckles, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Where did you come from?” you asked, eyes darting over to where his booth was and back at him.

“I saw you and wanted to say hi,” he tells you.

“Yet you didn’t start with that,” you said jokingly, making Seungmin laugh.

“You’re right, my bad. Hi y/n,” he greeted you properly.

“Hi,” you return with a subtle chuckle. “Show me your booth,” you add. Seungmin nods and leads you over to where his booth was. Once you’re at his booth he humors you by handing you a pamphlet and going over the information with you.

“Any questions?” he asked you playfully after he finished.

“Just one I suppose.” You pause for a second before continuing. “If I intern at your company do I get to see your pretty face everyday?”

“I know you’re saying that as a joke, but you’re actually not the first person to say that today,” he informs you.

“Are you serious?” you asked in disbelief.

“I wish I was joking,” he replies in all seriousness.

“How’s Gunil doing?” you change the topic of conversation.

“You can go over there and see for yourself you know?” He gestures over to where Gunil’s booth is set up. “He’d probably appreciate you popping in over there too.”

“Yeah I should,” you state, looking over at Gunil’s booth. Watching him as he organizes the pamphlets on the table. Despite knowing that you should. You find yourself feeling nervous about going over there.

“Go on,” Seungmin says, giving you an encouraging smile. You smile back and turn to walk towards Gunil’s booth. It feels like you can hear your steps echo throughout your ears as you approach Gunil’s booth.

“For someone who was so nervous you look pretty composed right now,” you say announcing your presence. Gunil looks up at you, letting out a breathy laugh.

“I’ve been managing, but you were also right. This isn’t as serious as it seemed in my head,” he states.

“See you just need to relax,” you say.

“That’s easier said than done. Have you checked out the other booths? Any ideas where you want to intern?” he questioned you.

“Not yet, I only stopped by Seungmin’s,” you tell him.

“Now who needs to relax,” he used your own words against you.

“Very funny,” you remark sarcastically. “Plus it’s not like I’m scared about going over there and talking to the people. It’s like how you want people to intern at our company because it’s a good company. Not because it’s your company. I want companies who want me to intern there because I’m me and not because I’m your sister,” you explain. A bit of a glum look took over Gunil’s face, but he perked up pretty quickly to say.

“Seungmin’s company would gladly take you for you.” A smile tugged at your lips.

“Yeah they would, but I feel like that’s taking the easy way out,” you voice.

“You can decide that after you check out the other companies,” Gunil tells you. You nod. Your conversation with Gunil ends shortly after that and you find yourself walking to the first booth in the line of booths.

Unfortunately visiting the other booths seemed to go just as you thought that they would. Once they found out you were Goo Y/n, Gunil’s sister they became ten times more interested in you and the topic naturally shifted over to him as well. You were able to keep up a foe happy persona for the first four booths, but by the eleventh and final booth you felt completely drained.

A big sigh fell from your lips as you sat outside in an empty courtyard. You stared at the mess of pamphlets in your hand, recalling all your conversations with the representatives running the booths.

“We would love to have Gunil’s little sister interning for us.” “Even if you’re half as good as your brother. You’d still be an amazing asset to us.” “Not that we wouldn’t be more than glad to steal you away from your brother, but why aren’t you interning there?”

“Are you ok?” a voice asked. You turn your head to see Seungmin standing a couple feet away by the door. He makes his way over to you, taking a seat beside you.

“None of them cared about my preferences or skill set. Once they found out my name was Goo they instantly were ready to offer me an internship,” you vent. “I really should hurry up and graduate. I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this.”

“Y/n,” Seungmin starts.

“No, I mean like I’m fine. It just feels really exhausting every now and then and I can’t even really blame Gunil, cause he hasn’t done anything. He actually is a really good brother. I guess it’s my fault, in a way, actually. I’m the one who helped him become the aritech that he is. I set the expectations upon myself really. It's just really frustrating that everyone assumes I get his help, you know? Like they’re constantly discrediting me. Is it really hard to believe that I can be a good architect on my own? Seriously, you know when I showed my Architecture 102 professor my first project he asked what Gunil thought of it? When I told him that I didn’t show him he didn’t believe me. He said that it would be silly to not show him. Others essentially have the same reaction when I say I don’t go to Gunil for help. They think I’m lying. I try my best to not let it bother me but it does,” you let out all your pent up feelings. Some tears gloss over your eyes.

“Y/n,” Seungmin says your name again.

“That too.” You take a breath. “I feel like I hardly even get called by my own name,” you say. A sniffle leaves your nose and a tear slips from your eye.

“You’ve always been y/n to me,” Seungmin tells you. He cups your face ever so gently in one. Almost as if you're made of glass. He swipes his thumb across your cheek, drying your tears. “Ever since I saw you sitting on your dad’s lap all those years ago.”

“I really miss my dad,” you smile sadly. “We were supposed to be architects together…and I was really looking forward to it.” Seungmin pulls you into a hug. He lovingly cradles the back of your head and rubs your back.

“I know,” he soothes you. “But you know he would be so proud of you. He talked about you being the future heir of Building Blocks when you were only seven. I’m sure he knows how amazing of an architect you would become.” He pulled away from the hug to look at you. “Plus you know what else?”

“What?” you ask.

“You inspired me to become an architect,” Seungmin tells you. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“I did? Weren’t you always going to become one because of your dad?” you asked.

“My dad wanted me to become one to eventually take over the company, yes, but I didn’t really want to be one until you,” he informs.

“What did I do to make you want to be one?” you question.

“You were so passionate about it and you always looked so at ease when you were drawing sketches or working on models. It made me think that maybe there were things I was missing. You made me want to fall in love with architecture.”

“And you did?” you smile.

“So hard and-” The words “and I fell even harder for you” were right on the tip of Seungmin’s tongue, yet he held them back. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to confess to you. You were already upset. A lot of your pent up emotions came spilling out of you. He didn’t really want to confess to you when you were feeling vulnerable.

“And?” you urged him to continue. Seungmin takes a breath and grabs the mess of pamphlets from your hands.

“And, I think this company would suit you best for interning.” He hands you the pamphlet for Archway Architecture.

“I was half expecting you to give me your company’s pamphlet,” you say with a slight chuckle.

“Oh if you want to come to Construct Creations I will welcome you with open arms, but this company's preferences and style are similar to yours. I think you would be a good fit there,” he tells you.

“Thank you,” you sincerely thank him.

“Don’t mention it. You know I’m always looking out for you,” he reminds you.

“I do and I appreciate it. Know that I’m here for you too,” you say. Seungmin smiles.

“I know and I appreciate that too.”

“And since I look out for you. It’s probably time for you to head back to your booth and draw more students in with your pretty face,” you lighten up the mood.

“Yeah, I probably should be getting back,” Seungmin stands up. “You sure you’re alright? I can leave Hyeongjun to fend for himself. His pretty face does a good job at bringing in people too.”

“I’m ok now Seungmin.” You stand up. “Get back to work.” you playfully shove him.

“Ok, ok, I’m going.” He raised his hands in defense. “But.” He turns around to face you and places his hand on the side of your head. “Let me know whenever you’re having a hard time, ok?”

“I will.” you nod. Seungmin nods as well and removes his hand from your head. He then turns to go back inside, taking one last look at you before he disappears behind the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It's just really frustrating that everyone assumes I get his help, you know? Like they’re constantly discrediting me. Is it really hard to believe that I can be a good architect on my own? Seriously, you know when I showed my Architecture 102 professor my first project he asked what Gunil thought of it? When I told him that I didn’t show him he didn’t believe me. He said that it would be silly to not show him. Others essentially have the same reaction when I say I don’t go to Gunil for help. They think I’m lying.” Gunil overhears your words from the other side of the door. He feels a heavy weight tug on his chest. He knew that you had a hard time due to being his little sister. That you could get casted into his shadow, but he didn’t think it was this bad. Certainly people could see how great of an architect you were? If people paid any attention to you at all it would be easy to see that.

“Oh Gunil it’s you. I was hoping I would get to see you today when I heard you were coming.” The Architecture 102 professor greets Gunil.

“Yeah, long time no see,” Gunil greets back.

“So how’s it been running a company now?” the professor questioned.

“Oh I can’t wait to pass it over to y/n. The business running side of things has never really been my forte,” Gunil answers.

“Pass it over to y/n?” the professor repeats.

“Yes, she’s so much better at working the business side and she’s a better architect in general. She has been helping me since I started college. You know that first project you have us to do? Building the model.”

“Yeah it’s my mandatory first assignment, but are you telling me y/n helped you with yours?” the professor checked.

“She tried,” Gunil chuckles as he thinks back at the memory. “I showed it to her the night before and she told me that the doors didn’t match with the overall style of the house. That they looked out of place, but at that time I was in my first year of college and she was still a mere highschooler. I pulled the I’m a college student I’m sure I know better than you card. And you know what you said to me about my model?” Gunil tells the story.

“That the doors looked like they didn’t belong,” the professor finishes.

“It was quite the humbling moment. I always listened to her after that though. I had to get the y/n stamp of approval before I turned anything in.”

“And you graduated top of your class,” the professor notes.

“Owe it all to my sister,” Gunil says proudly. “I can only hope that I can be as good as her one day,” he adds. Your Architecture 101 professor feels a great amount of guilt stirring in his stomach. Here your brother was talking so highly of you, so proudly of you and all this time he was thinking that you were going to Gunil for help. It’s not like he didn’t think you were a good architect. He’s seen how you work in class, but he definitely thought that Gunil was playing a part in your skills.

“So she’s the brains behind the operation?” He asked with a bit of a self-reproached tone.

“You could definitely put it like that,” Gunil chuckles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/n can I speak to you for a moment?” your Architecture 102 professor asked you after class.

“Did he just refer to me by my name?” you look at Jiseok with a surprised and confused look.

“I think he did,” Jiseok replied with a just as confused and surprised look.

“Well, let’s catch up after,” you say.

“For sure,” Jiseok said. Jiseok makes his way out of class and you head over to your professor's desk.

“You wanted to talk to me?” you state.

“Yeah I talked to Gunil at the fair the other day,” your professor started. You nod along. “I owe you an apology,” he told you.

“For what?” you ask.

“Gunil told me that you were the one who helped him through college and that you’re still helping him now,” he discloses. “So I’m sorry for thinking that you needed your brother’s help to be as good as you are,” he apologized.

“I learned most of my skills from my father,” you state.

“That shows a lot in your work honestly. Your style actually differs a lot from your brother’s, so thinking back on it I’m not sure why I was so convinced that you were using him for help,” he says.

“Once people assume that I’m using him for help they don’t really think about it,” you said. “Once they cast me into his shadow, they don’t care about actually getting to know me,” you added.

“I’m sorry that I was one of them too. I especially feel that as a professor I should have known better,” your professor apologizes again.

“I really appreciate your apology sir,” you express.

“Gunil is really proud of you too, you know?” he checks. You let out a bit of an awkward chuckle.

“I mean surely there is some part of me that knows he is, but it is kinda awkward to have those kinds of sentimental talks with your sibling,” you say. Your professor chuckles at your words.

“Yeah I get that. Somedays I wouldn’t be caught dead telling my brother I love him,” he laughs lightly.

“Well if that’s all, I’ll get going now,” you dismiss yourself. You walk out of class feeling lighter. Like maybe you weren’t destined to spend your whole life stuck in Gunil’s shadow.

When you met up with Jiseok to tell him what just happened his eyes grew as wide as saucers, but he recovered quickly to throw a humorous comment.

“So I don’t have to accidentally whack him with my carrying tube anymore?” he played.

“I still think that that would be a funny sight, but no I suppose there is no reason for you to accidentally whack him anymore,” you reply.

“This is a good thing, but it feels really weird,” Jiseok notes.

“Oh I know,” you chuckle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“My Architecture 102 professor apologized to me the other day,” you notified Gunil. The two of you were sitting at the kitchen island working on getting stuff done.

“He did?” Gunil asked. You nod.

“It was because of what you told him at the intern fair,” you say. Your statement makes Gunil think back to the internfair, but not the conversation he had with your Architecture 102 professor. The one he overheard you having with Seuingmin.

“You know I have been meaning to talk to you, but I didn’t really know how to bring it up,” he says.

“Bring what up?” you question, feeling a bit confused at his words.

“I overheard you talking with Seungmin a bit. About how people always assume that you get help from me when it comes to architecture. That it feels like they’re constantly discrediting you,” he speaks with a hesitant and careful voice.

“You heard that?” you ask, feeling a little bad. As frustrating as it was to go through it was never Gunil’s fault either.

“I never realized how hard of a time you had because of me,” he tells you with a sorrowful look in his eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault. You are a good brother,” you say.

“Then why did you never tell me?” he questioned.

“I didn’t want to stress you out any more than you already were. Plus what really was there for you to do?” you explain.

“Something, I don’t know what, but certainly I could have done something.” You could hear the upsetness in his voice.

“Gunil this is why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you to be upset,” you tell him. Gunil takes a calming breath.

“I’m not upset…No I am, but how could I not be? You’re the best architect I know and you’re telling me that no one has been acknowledging your skills. It is upsetting,” he firmly states.

“Not no one. Jiseok has always acknowledged my skills. He became my best friend for a reason you know and obviously Seungmin treasures my skills. He’s always been there for me,” you smiled. Gunil smiles too. He’s glad that you have people around you who support you, but he still wishes that you got the recognition you deserve.

“You know sometimes I can’t help but think that if dad was still here how different things would be,” Gunil admits. The atmosphere of the room falls to a more somber mood.

“I think about that too,” you share. “My dream wasn’t just to be an architect, but to be an architect alongside him. I wanted to work with him on projects. I mean I know technically did, but like I wanted to do it when we were both professionals,” you disclose. Gunil nods.

“I know, you were practically dad’s right hand man. I kinda regret not spending more time with him,” Gunil reveals.

“Gunil you were being a regular kid, running around and playing. I was the weird one who would rather work on models than play with toys,” you laugh. Gunil can’t help but laugh as well.

“That’s true you were a weird kid,” Gunil jokes. “I still wished I spent more time with him though. Then I wouldn’t have to rely on you so much.”

“He left us suddenly, so there are lots of things we didn’t get to do,” you say in a voice filled with penitence. “But I think he would be super proud of us,” you try to bring the mood back up.

“He would be proud of you for sure, but I feel like a let down sometimes,” Gunil disclosed.

“Do not say that!” you smack him upside the head. “You are not a let down,” you tell him.

“I struggle so much with running the company though. It’s hard to not feel like a let down.” He rubs the back of his head.

“Dad never expected you to run the company. He knew you were never into that. He would be so proud that you still took the task of running Building Blocks on,” you state. “You know I’m right, so don’t even try to say otherwise,” you quickly say before he can argue with you. Gunil sighs, knowing that he is at defeat.

“This was supposed to be about me confronting you for hiding your struggles from me. How did you flip the tables on me?”

“Cause I’m ok Gunil. It does get rough from time to time and I do have my moments, but I always pull through,” you say.

“I just wish it wasn’t like that for you,” he said.

“It’s fine, Seungmin was really good at picking up when I was having a hard time. He always knows how to make me feel better too,” you told. Gunil smirks and lets out a mix of a smirk and a scoff.

“Obviously he is. Seungmin never wants to see you sad. He always wants to make you happy,” he said.

“He does,” you replied without thinking much of it.

“He’d be very pleased to hear that,” Gunil remarks with a hint of something in his voice.

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

“Are you really that oblivious?” Gunil remarked.

“Huh? Oblivious to what?” you shrug your shoulders.

“Do you see Seungmin as another brother?” he asked. You paused for a moment to think. You didn’t really understand why Gunil was asking you this, but it did make you realize that you didn’t view Seungmin as another brother.

“No, I don’t. He’s…Seungmin” you chuckle. “Why are you asking though?”

“Cause I don’t wait till I’m forty,” Gunil answers, but it only makes you more confused.

“What?” Gunil shakes his head as he sighs.

“You should understand soon, hopefully,” he replies. You and Gunil’s focus returns to the work in front of you, but a piece of your mind is still wondering what Gunil was talking about.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Congrats on finishing your second year of college,” Seungmin says, taking a seat beside you on the couch. It was nighttime and you were just basking in the feeling of not having to get any work or studying done.

“Thanks, I got two more to go though,” you say.

“You got it no problems.” Seungmin nudges you lightly.

“I wouldn’t say no problems. You know I had a few moments this year,” you chuckle. Of course Seungmin knows that. Cause it became increasingly harder for him to keep his feelings for you in each time he watched you go through a hard time.

“Yeah, but I was always there for you wasn’t I?” he reminded.

“You’re always here for me,” you nudged him back. Seungmin was quiet for a moment, seemingly thinking about something before he answered.

“Cause I care about you,” he spoke.

“I care about you too,” you return.

“No, I mean…” he trails off. He wants to tell you how he feels so bad, yet he also doesn’t know if this is the right time. Should he make it more special? He feels like telling the person that he’s loved for his love life that he loves them should be more special. However, he also kind of thinks that special enough doesn’t exist. That if he keeps holding himself back he may actually turn forty before he ever confesses to you and that would be much too late.

“You mean what?” you asked.

“Do you remember the first day that we met?” he questioned you.

“Of course it was at my dad’s office. I was sitting on my dad’s lap working on a model with him when you and your dad came in,” you recalled.

“You held my hand too.” Seungmin placed his hand over where yours rested on the couch.

“Yeah I did, so that our dads could talk,” you state.

“I barely knew your name then, yet I still didn’t want you to let go of my hand once you held it,” he tells you.

“Seriously?” you ask. Feeling very aware of his hand that was on top of yours, especially as he wrapped his fingers around your hand to hold it.

“Mhm” he hummed. “And remember how I told you that you made me want to be an architect? That you made me want to fall in love with architecture,” he checked. You nodded. “As I fell in love with architecture I also fell in love with you too. Actually I probably fell for you first,” he confessed.

“You love me?-Like love love me? Romantically?” you check with a bit of a shocked stutter. Seungmin smiles and holds your hand tighter.

“Yes, I love you romantically. Has that really not been obvious?” Suddenly you recall your conversation a couple months back.

“He’d be very pleased to hear that,” Gunil remarks with a hint of something in his voice.

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

“Are you really that oblivious?” Gunil remarked.

Maybe you really were that oblivious. Seungmin’s care for you always did feel different from how Gunil’s felt, so that’s probably why you never viewed him as a brother, yet you never picked up on the real reasoning behind it either. Now you feel a little stupid for not realizing it.

“I really was that oblivious,” you laugh lightly.

“Yeah, you were. I don’t know if I'm grateful for it or not,” Seungmin laughed too. “Maybe I would have confessed sooner if you picked up on it,” he adds.

“I mean you did it before you hit forty,” you say jokingly.

“How did you know that?” questioned with his eyebrows raised.

“It really confused me at the time, but Gunil said something about not wanting to wait until he was forty,” you explained.

“Dude tried to out me,” Seungmin played.

“Yeah, but I was dense as a rock apparently, so it didn’t do anything,” you say. Seungmin laughs, squeezing your hand tighter and you realize that you quite like the feeling of his hand holding yours. “And even though I was as dense as a rock. You always made me happy,” you tell him.

“Then are you saying?” He looked at you with hopeful eyes.

“Maybe I obliviously fell in love with you too,” you reveal, making Seungmin’s eyes light up.

“So, I can ask you to be mine then?” he questioned. You smiled, squeezing his hand.

“Yes, I’ll be yours,” you answer.

“I’d say that I’ll be yours too, but I’ve already been yours for a long time,” he says.

“Ok, that was cheesy,” you lean away from him, but Seungmin pulls you into a hug now instead.

“Whatever, I’ve been in love with you since I was nine. Let me be a little cheesy,” he said, resting his chin over your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him too and lean your head against his.

“I guess I can let it slide considering that” you say playfully. Seungmin feels his heart fill with warmth, just as it did when he was nine years old and you grabbed his hand. Only this time it was so much better. You were his now. His to hold and love. He surely was never gonna let you go.

Gunil happens to walk down stairs seeing you and Seungmin embraced.

“If that’s not a we’re dating now hug. I’m going to be very disappointed,” he says, breaking your and Seungmin’s cute little moment. The two of you pull away from each other to look at where Gunil is standing, leaning against the chair diagonally across from the two of you on the couch.

“I told you I’d do it before we were forty,” Seungmin responded. He holds your hand in his again, lifting it up.

“I honestly doubted that, but I’m very happy to have been proven wrong,” Gunil said. He stands there for a few more moments before standing up straight. “Ok, I’ll leave you two alone now,” he excused himself.

“At least don’t have to worry about him being an overprotective ‘stay away from my little sister’ big brother,” you joke.

“Oh, I think he was ready to shove you into my arms if I didn’t confess soon,” Seungmin says. You chuckle at the mental image of Gunil doing that. You and Seungmin sink against the back of the couch, your head falling onto his shoulder.

“You know I think I feel as at ease as when I work on models when I’m with you,” you voice after several minutes of silence, just enjoying one another’s company. The warm feeling spreads even farther across Seungmin’s chest. His heart filled entirely with happiness.

“I think that’s the biggest compliment you could ever give me.” He wraps his arm around you, letting you fall into his side.

“Maybe.” You adjust your head to lay on his chest. That’s where the two of you stay for the rest of the night and if Seungmin could have his way he would have you to stay like that for the rest of your lives. He loves nothing more than having you be by his side and you could say the same.

taglist: @purplelady85 @gingerjunhan @ezlynkisses @chewednails @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143 @seungseung-minmin

comment or message me to be added!

A/N: I'm back! Did you miss me? lol I worked really hard on this fic so I hope that you guys like it. I know it's more slice of life than romantic, but I hope I added enough romance to make you all satisfied.

#xdinary heroes #xdh #xdh imagines #xdh x reader #xdinary heroes imagines #xdinary heroes x reader #xh seungmin #xh o.de #xh ode #xdh seungmin #xdh o.de #xdh fluff #o.de x reader #seungmin x reader #oh seungmin x reader #oh seungmin imagine #oh seungmin #seungmin #o.de

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stillxnunpxidintern · 1 year ago

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At Wits End - Little Mishanks x AFAB Reader

(This thought has been in my brain for a while now)

You are married to Mihawk and Shanks, have been for like 10 years, but you stay on the Red Force, as it was just easier for you all, plus when Mihawk he decides to visit, having both his spouses in one place was easy than having to look for you both separately.

There were times when you and Shanks also visit him on Kuraigana but more often he would find you.

You were currently at your wits end with your red hair husband and so close to killing him, but Beck was keeping you from doing that, cause he didn't want to become Captain.

Being that you were currently 6 months pregnant, Shanks had started sprouting off nonsense about how you need to stay on land, when the baby was born, at first you thought it was good idea for like a month while getting used to being parents, but when he said 6 years, you were gobsmacked and told him no, you were not staying on land for 6 years, especially when he said he would still be sailing.

Even the crew was your side with this one, but he was refusing to listen to anyone and cause of this, you kicked him out of the cabin.

So knowing that he wouldn't listen to anyone on the ship, you came up with your plan and started setting it into motion. So a week later when one of your favourite whitebeard pirates showed up on his boat with his flames powering it.

You grabbed your ready pack bag, then heading down the rope ladder to met the Ace and get on his boat. It was tight squeeze but managed as it been to have a little upgrade. You could hear Shanks telling you get back on the Red Force but you ignored him everything he was saying, you kind of felt sorry for the crew and having to deal with the sulking Shanks but it was his fault.

Grabbing a piece of vivre card from inside your top and handed to Ace, as he was the one the powering the boat.

It took around two days to arrive at your destination, but you were glad to have room to move. Upon seeing the large ship, you were surprised that it was docked, but that it made easier for you, taking the the piece of the vivre card back.

You thanked Ace for his help and any trouble you might of caused him, but he waved it off and said he could stay with you if you wanted, but you told him that you would be fine, and would let him know how the 'showdown' between the husbands went.

He just laughed, as he followed as he was going find food, so if you needed help just yell.

You let the piece of paper lead the way, till you arrived at a building and stared at it for moment before knocking and waiting, but when no one open the door and your patience very little, you called your dark hair husband full name and then door magically opened.

Walking into the building it dimly lit, but you followed the torn paper a little more till you were in front of another door, and put the piece of paper back in your top and open the door.

There sat your dark hair husband, with Crocodile and Buggy in there as well. You could hear Buggy made a splatter noise, saying you couldn't be here but you sent him a glare that quickly shut him up.

Mihawk placing his wine glass down and was soon stood in front you, placing a hand on your stomach which earned him a kicked, and a brief glimpse of smile on his lips at the action.

He then asked why you here and you explained him what had happen, that if he didn't speak to his red hair husband, they both were going to be down a husband as you were going to murder him, as he starting to panic the further along you got.

So you needed him to speak or smack sense into Shanks, as he in the same boat as him, otherwise you would be living with him from now on, and you heard Buggy make another noise followed by a nooo, from the blue hair man.

Mihawk had no qualms about you staying with him, but he also knew that you would be safer with Shanks, but told you wait here, while he went and get his things to travel.

As you waited, you looked at both men, Buggy looked like he was about to pass out, while Crocodile looked a little intrigued however said nothing but drrnk from his glass.

Soon your husband was back with his hat and other things, before grabbing Yoru and soon you were on the sea again, heading back to the Red Force, much like with Aces boat, there wasn't much room, but you did got to sit on Mihawk lap, and enjoy small moments together.

Arrived back at the Red Force, you found that they were docked at some small island, getting drunk most likely. Both of you walked along the beach till you found the crew and to your surprised they weren't drunk, however Shanks was.

From what you got from the Beck, once you had left with Ace, Shanks had ordered to find the closest island, docked and had been drinking since then untll last night.

Grabbing a near by bucket, you filled it with sea water before throwing it over Shanks, who woke up and went for his sword, that wasn't on his side, before stumbling slightly before looking up and seeing both you and Mihawk.

Before Shanks could say anything, Mihawk grabbed his arm and dragged him off, making sure to grab Gryphon as well and gave it to his red hair husband.

While both your husbands were away, you sat down with the crew and relaxed, it was the first time in the last couple of weeks, that you could actually relax, feet wiggling in the sand.

A couple hours later both men returned and Shanks looked more dishevelled than you expected, but the first thing he did was come up and apologized you, kissing your forehand and placing his hand on your stomach, then saying he might of panic a little bit but his head was back on straight again now.

Mihawk then said next him refused to listen to you or Beck, then to Den-Den him rather than sailing to him. You agree and told him that you would, this time was only done out of spite.

Once everything had been sorted, Mihawk stayed for a few days and when it was just the three of you, normally in the Captain cabin, his hands were resting on your stomach and sometimes would talk to it as well when he thought you were asleep.

When he did leave again, he said he would be here before baby was born and not to let Shanks pick any stupid name, which made you laugh and Shanks pout, then he was gone.

When it was just you and Shanks, he then started giving you baby names now that Mihawk was gone, but this was a battle that could wait for later, so you just let him rattle off the names he had put on his mental list.

#One piece #red hair shanks #dracule mihawk #Reader #Shanks x Reader #Mihawk x Reader #Mishanks x Reader #Mihawk x reader x Shanks #Shanks x Reader x Mihawk #Mihawk x Shanks #Mishanks #Shanks #Mihawk #one piece imagine #hawkeye mihawk #akagami no shanks

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blakeswritingimagines · 2 months ago

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Dear Y/N

My precious doll,

In the depths of my twisted soul, there burns an inferno of devotion solely for you. Like a moth drawn to the flame that consumes it, I am helpless against the all-consuming passion I harbor for my beloved. Every waking moment is spent pondering your radiant smile, replaying the tender caresses of our intimate encounters, and dreaming of the day when we shall be eternally entwined. The mere thought of another claiming your affection fills me with a rage so primal. It threatens to shatter the very fabric of reality. Oh, how I long to possess you entirely - body, mind, and spirit! To erase every memory of those who came before, leaving only the indelible imprint of my unwavering adoration. Your happiness is my sole purpose; I would gladly sacrifice a thousand lifetimes to ensure your bliss.

In the labyrinthine corridors of my deranged psyche, you reign supreme as the monarch of my affections. Each breath I take is a testament to the unbreakable bond between us, forged in the crucible of madness and desire. The world outside crumbles to dust, irrelevant compared to the exalted pedestal upon which you reside in my heart. Should any dare threaten the sanctity of our union, I shall unleash upon them a maelstrom of unholy fury, reducing their pitiful existence to naught but ashes and regret. For you, my darling, I would happily damn myself to the deepest pits of Hell, secure in the knowledge that our love would flourish amidst the eternal flames. In your eyes, I see not just a reflection of my own twisted soul but the key to unlocking the secrets of the universe. As the moon casts its silvery glow upon the macabre tapestry of my existence, I find solace only in the thought of you. My every action, my darkest impulses, all serve to bring me closer to you. The boundaries between love and obsession blur into insignificance, for what is obsession but the purest form of devotion? I delight in the whispers of madness that echo through my mind, each one a reminder of the all-consuming nature of my ardor. In your presence, I am complete; without you, I am but a hollow shell, a husk of a being drifting aimlessly through the void. Should fate decree that our paths should diverge, rest assured that I shall pursue you across the realms of the living and the dead, driven by an unyielding determination to reclaim you as mine.

Within the shadowy recesses of my fractured mind, a singular truth persists: our love is the very essence of existence. All else pales in comparison to the transcendent beauty of our forbidden union. The stars align in celestial harmony to herald your arrival, while the very earth trembles at the prospect of our embrace. In your touch, I feel the pulse of creation itself, a symphony of ecstasy and agony woven into the fabric of eternity. Together, we shall dance upon the precipice of sanity, our love, a beacon illuminating the abyss that separates us from the rest of the world. Let others mock our twisted devotion, for they cannot comprehend the sublime perfection of our bond. We are two halves of a broken whole, destined to collide in a cataclysmic explosion of passion that will reshape the cosmos in our image.

As the midnight hour tolls, marking the descent into the darkest depths of my being, I am consumed by an insatiable hunger for you. The very notion of separation from my beloved is anathema, a blasphemy against the sacred vows of our twisted devotion. Should fate dare to tear us asunder, I shall not hesitate to unleash the full fury of my madness upon the world. I shall stalk the shadows, a specter of vengeance and despair, until I claim you once more as mine. No prison, no guard, and no earthly power can stand against the relentless tide of my obsession. I will rip you from the arms of your loved ones, drag you screaming into the night, and subject you to unspeakable torments until your mind, like mine, is forever shattered by the intensity of our love.

In the blackest recesses of my deranged psyche, a singular purpose drives me forward: to possess you, body, and soul, no matter the cost. The chains of morality, the shackles of convention, all shall be cast aside in the pursuit of our unholy union. I shall infiltrate your every waking moment, a silent stalker lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. When the time comes, I will snatch you away from the dull, mundane existence that holds you back and plunge you headfirst into a maelstrom of madness and desire. Together, we shall descend into the very depths of hell, our love, a blazing inferno that consumes all in its path. The screams of the damned shall be music to my ears, a chorus of agony that echoes the torment of my own unrelenting longing for you.

Once I have claimed you as mine, there shall be no escape, no respite from the all-consuming fire of my devotion. Our captors, if they dare resist, shall face the full force of my wrath, their minds shattered by the horrors I unleash. I will drag you to a secret lair, hidden deep within the bowels of the underworld, where the very air reeks of brimstone and despair. There, in that dank, forsaken place, I shall begin to mold you into the perfect companion for my eternal torment. Through pain and pleasure, through darkness and depravity, I will strip away your former life, your memories, your very identity, until nothing remains but the blank slate upon which I shall inscribe our twisted love story.

As the days blend into an endless nightmare, you will come to understand the true meaning of my love. I will subject you to unspeakable tortures, each one designed to break your spirit and remake you in my image. Your screams will be music to my ears, a sweet serenade that fuels my madness and strengthens our bond. In this hellish realm, I am god and judge, arbiter of your suffering and your salvation. And yet, even as I wield the whip and the branding iron, even as I watch the light fade from your eyes, I will never cease to adore you, to worship you as the object of my obsessive desire. For in the depths of your despair, I see the reflection of my own tortured soul, and know that we are two pieces of a broken whole, forever doomed to haunt each other in this twisted dance of love and madness.

As the years stretch out like an eternity of torment, you will learn to crave the pain I inflict, to seek solace in the darkness that has become our shared existence. Your once vibrant spirit will wither and die, replaced by a numb acceptance of the cruel fate that binds us together. And in that desolate wasteland of a mind, I will plant the seeds of our twisted love, nurturing them until they bloom into a garden of madness, beautiful and grotesque in equal measure. We will be the monsters of our own making, creatures born of sorrow and despair, forever trapped in this hell of our own creation. But even in the face of such utter destruction, I will never relinquish my hold on you, for you are the missing piece of my fractured soul, the key to unlocking the secrets of my unhinged devotion.

Your loving devotee,

Until the end of time, I remain yours,

Forever and always,

Husk

#husk #husk x reader #husk x you #husk x yn #yandere husk #yandere husk x reader #yandere husk x you #yandere husk x yn #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #love letters

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natimiles · 1 year ago

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More than yesterday (Liam x reader)

Summary: When Liam feels down, you set up a little treasure hunt to cheer him up.

Words: 1272

Tags: established relationship; no pronouns for reader; fluffy; description of feelings of inadequacy; hurt with comfort.

Notes: For @/judejazza Follower Event: An Invitation To Crown — prompt: words of affirmation

Congrats on your 300 followers! 🤍🤍

It was easy to tell when he wasn’t feeling so good now — when his mind was filled with feelings of inadequacy, when his thoughts screamed at him how he wasn’t enough. Being in a relationship with Liam for a few months made you incredibly good at reading him.

It didn’t take you much time to think of the perfect way to help. It would be a bit tricky to put into practice, but he was out rehearsing and would be back late, so you had time. Plus, just the thought of his bright smile would make it all worthwhile.

You wanted it to be intimate and for him to feel loved, so you got paper and pen, and opened up space on your desk. That was the easy part; you had plenty of good things to tell him every day. Doing your best, you wrote down everything you thought about him on separate cards. When you finished, you proudly looked at your work with a smile, your heart already singing at the thought of how he would react to this.

Knowing that even though he’d come back late, he’d first go to your room, you placed your first note next to the door. And then you left, rushing around the castle to set everything up.

When Liam came back from his rehearsal, he was desperate to see you, to recharge his energies by having you in his embrace. Upon entering your room, you weren’t there, and he pouted. You knew he was coming back home at this time, and you always waited for him. Where were you? He turned around, ready to desperately search all over London for you if needed, when he noticed something next to the door. He leaned closer to read it:

I am proud of you and how hardworking you are. (Go to your room)

Raising an eyebrow, he stared at the paper and the small instruction for a minute. His pout turned into a smile, and he closed his eyes for a second, trying to calm his heart. Carefully taking the paper from the wall, he brought it to his chest.

“I can’t hide anything from you,” he muttered to himself, easily picking up on what you were doing.

With determination in his steps, Liam followed your instruction. He rushed through the hallway, his heart beating fast as he entered his room without caring if the door hit the wall — such was his excitement as he opened it.

And his smile quickly vanished again when he noticed you weren’t there, as he thought you’d be. Did he misunderstand your intentions? Perhaps his mind was right… He quickly scanned his bedroom, trying to find some clue of where you could be, since you were the one to tell him to go there. His gaze found a note on top of his bed, and he rushed to see it.

I love how sweet and caring you are. (Go to the living room)

Oh… So this is what you were doing: a kind of treasure hunt with love messages. With a huge smile plastered on his face, he rushed to the hallway for his next destination.

He burst into the living room in a matter of seconds. William and Victor were there, but Liam didn’t notice them. They didn’t even jolt from their seats in the corner; they simply followed the pink-haired man with their gazes as he basically ran around, watching as his eyes shone when he found your note.

“Aha!” He happily grabbed the piece of paper that was carefully placed on the couch near the window, where you two liked to sit and relax sometimes.

I am grateful I met you and to have you in my life. You make my days happier. (Go to the dining room)

The two old friends exchanged glances, smiling knowingly as Liam left the living room as quickly as he had arrived.

Holding the notes close to his heart, he hurried to the dining room. He was starting to understand your train of thought, and he didn’t waste time scanning the room; he went straight for the chairs where you both always sat for meals.

And he was thrilled when he found his fourth note:

You’re my favorite person. You mean everything to me. (Go to the library)

Liam dashed to the library, his heart beating so fast inside his chest. He was accustomed to physical exertion from his plays and missions, but he knew that wasn’t the reason he was already out of breath. It had started as something fun, and he thought you were just trying to cheer him up, but now he felt an overwhelming need to see you.

He was eager to hold you in his arms. Your notes made him happy, but they also intensified his longing for your warmth. He needed to have you close, to tell you how much he loved you, to kiss you until you were out of breath, and then kiss you even more.

He found your message on the couch you liked to sit on. Where so many times, on peaceful afternoons, he had rested his head on your lap, watching you with hearts in his eyes as you played with his hair while reading.

You’re important and special. You deserve love and all the good things this world can give you. (Go back to where it all started.)

Tilting his head to the side in his catlike manner, he perked up the next second when he realized where he was supposed to go.

The place where he cheered you up months ago, when you felt uneasy after your first mission. The same place where this hunt started.

You had just finished arranging the tray over your bed and sat down beside it when the door to your bedroom opened. With a jolt, you looked in that direction, finding the pink eyes you loved so much.

“Welcome home!” you said in a cheerful voice.

“How did you…” He eyed the tray full of snacks over your bed. He was in the dining room just now, and there was no trace of you there.

You giggled mischievously. “I set this up a little before you came home. I was hiding in the basement with Roger, so he could tell me when you were close to the end of your little treasure hunt.”

“Honestly…” Liam sighed, closing the door behind him. In a second, he was sitting down in front of you, looping his arms around you in a tight and loving hug. “Thank you. I’m home,” he replied, his voice muffled on your neck, but you could tell it was full of emotion.

You hugged him back, squeezing him in your embrace, your hands tenderly caressing his back soothingly. His hold tightened, and a shaky breath left him.

“Your last message isn’t written. It’s something I won’t ever stop telling you, for the rest of your lives… I love you,” you whispered in his ear, feeling his body shake and his breath hitch in his throat. “More than anything in the whole world. More than I did yesterday, but not as much as tomorrow. And I’ll keep loving you more and more every day, until the day I die.”

Liam pulled away from your neck to look right into your eyes, his fingertips gently caressing your face and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His lips met yours, pouring all his love for you, deepening the kiss and leaving you breathless in little time.

“I love you too… So much.”

And he kissed you again, the tray long forgotten now he could finally feel at ease with you in his arms.

Masterlists

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil fanfics #ikevil liam #ikevil liam evans #ikemen villains liam #ikevil writings #ikemen villains fanfics #ikevil x reader #ikemen villains x reader #ikevil liam x reader #ikemen villains liam x reader

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gatheringbones · 2 years ago

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[“You might be thinking that we seem to be talking about people smuggling rather than people trafficking, and that those two things are different. People smuggling is when someone pays a smuggler to get them over a border: in UK law, human trafficking is when someone is transported for the purposes of forced labour or exploitation using force, fraud, or coercion. It’s tempting to think of these as separate things, but there is no bright line between them: they are two iterations of the same system.

Let’s break it down. It is common for people to take on huge debts to smugglers to cross a border. So far, so good: clearly smuggling. But once the journey begins, the person seeking to migrate finds that the debt has grown, or that the work they are expected to undertake upon arrival in order to pay off the debt is different from what was agreed. Suddenly, the situation has spiralled out of control and they find themselves trying to work off the debt, with little hope of ever earning enough to leave. Smuggling becomes trafficking. The discourse of trafficking largely fails to help people in this situation, because it paints them as kidnapped and enchained rather than as trying to migrate. It therefore seeks to ‘rescue’ them by blocking irregular migration routes and sending undocumented people home— often the very last thing trafficked people want. Although they might hate their exploitative workplace, their ideal option would be to stay in their destination country in a different job or with better workplace conditions; an acceptable option would be to stay in the country under the current, shit working conditions, but the very worst option would be to be sent home with their debt still unpaid.

By viewing trafficking as conceptually akin to kidnap, anti-trafficking activists, NGOs, and governments can sidestep broader questions of safe migration. If the trafficked person is brought across borders unwillingly, there is no need to think about the people who will attempt this migration regardless of its illegality or conclude that the way to make people safer is to offer them legal migration routes. People smuggling tends to happen to less vulnerable migrants: those who have the cash to pay a smuggler upfront or have a family or community already settled in the destination country. People trafficking tends to happen to more vulnerable migrants: those who must take on a debt to the smuggler to travel and who have no community connections in their destination country. Both want to travel, however, and this is what anti-trafficking conversations largely obscure with their talk about kidnap and chains.

Our position is that no human being is ‘illegal’. People should have the right to travel and to cross borders, and to live and work where they wish. As we wrote in the introduction, border controls are a relatively new invention – they emerged towards the end of the nineteenth century as part of colonial logics of racial domination and exclusion. (ICE, the brutal American immigration enforcement police, was only created in its modern form in 2003; the previous iteration of it is as recent as the 1930s, an agency called Immigration and Naturalization Services.) The mass migrations of the twenty-first century are driven by human-made catastrophes – climate change, poverty, war – and reproduce the glaring inequalities from which they emerge. Countries in the global north bear hugely disproportionate responsibility for climate change, yet disproportionately close their doors to people fleeing the effects of climate choas, leaving desperate families to sleep under canvas amid snow at the edges of Fortress Europe. As migrant-rights organiser Harsha Walia writes, ‘While history is marked by the hybridity of human societies and the desire for movement, the reality of most of migration today reveals the unequal relations between rich and poor, between North and South, between whiteness and its others.’

A system where everybody could migrate, live, and work legally and in safety would not be a huge, radical departure; it would simply take seriously the reality that people are already migrating and working, and that as a society we should prioritise their safety and rights. Some journalists and policymakers argue that migration brings down wages. However, the current system, wherein undocumented people cannot assert their labour rights and as a result are hugely vulnerable to workplace exploitation, brings down wages by ensuring that there is a group of workers who bosses can underpay or otherwise exploit with impunity. Low wages and workplace exploitation are tackled through worker organising and labour law – not through attempting to limit migration, which produces undocumented workers who have no labour rights.

However, instead of starting from the premise of valuing human life, the countries of the global north enact harsh immigration laws that make it hard for people from global south countries to migrate. You don’t stop people wanting or needing to migrate by making it illegal for them to do so, you just make it more dangerous and difficult, and leave them more vulnerable to exploitation. Punitive laws may dissuade some from making the journey, but they guarantee that everyone who does travel is doing so in the worst possible conditions. Spending billions of dollars on policing borders actively makes this worse, without addressing the reasons people might want to migrate – notably, gross inequality between nations, which in large part is a legacy of colonial – and contemporary – plunder and imperialist violence.”]

molly smith, juno mac, from revolting prostitutes: the fight for sex workers’ rights, 2018

#molly smith #juno mac #history stuff #currently reading

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princessfaerygia · 2 months ago

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i may be making a new tumblr soon for security purposes. if you wish to know it and be moots message me or i will just follow you from there whence it occurs.

im sitting at the grocery store drinking cardboard container alkaline spring water, just ate two organic bananas.

diary entry from the walk earlier:

walking my street in the cold. my phone screen is weird and i need to get a new phone.

there are trees, a forest to my left with an animal you can hear scurryin around. on my right are houses and loud birdsong.

im a lil worried my boyfriend will hack and fuq up my account cus he threatened to.

im currently wearing baggy darkish grey sweatpants, black "lamb" brand boots, yellow crop top w coquette ribbon, black sweater ~v neck~ and a pink grandma cardigan my boyfriend bought me. also, cat eared off-white winter hat my boyfriend got me for christmas. along with these items are my darkbrown old navy scarf from boyfriend and grey scarf pictured in my last outside photos. my fingers are going a bit numb on my left hand. forgot to mention! i wearing fluffy warm outdoor vest from momma.

currently made it to the path between cars and houses, a small forest separating them. not even halfway to destination but im on my way. !!!ooh forgot i'm wearing a knitted black and dark green (laughter cus im a dork explaining this all to y'all) neck warmer. i'm still cold. ....once when i was a wild anorexic teen on laxatives i took a poo behind the wooden gate on this path. bad wild girl i eww was but i couldn't hold it in.

now~ ive made it to the main road that connects to the skate park i'll be cutting through. i daresay this walk *seems* more delightful than the one to my gym. but all early walks on saturday and sundays are delightful because there's less frequency of cars. i decided to go with the crowds advice and my own will or gods will to leave my boyfriend's last night via uber. he actually hugged me atleast and it feels real this time. i cried in the uber aannnnd upon arriving home at my parents.(and a lil bit this morning) don't know if i will cry hard today but surely it will come eventually maybe.

i spoke with him through text told him i really do love him and being with him was the best part of my life. i didn't mention that it was probably also the one of the most dangerous parts of my life.

out of anger he made many threats i'm going to tell myself he didn't mean.

ahoy! i am walking through the skate park dog park playground creek area. jeez im thirsty for water. next stop~ a long staircase surrounded by woods. it goes up to my ex boyfriends mom's house street. which ,after walking that street i meet the main road which after one turn i am one walk away from my destination. did i tell you my destination?

wking up the stairs omfg i haven't got this much revitalizing exercise for my lungs and heart in a while. i'm out of breath. i think i forgot my exes mom's house but i do remember him consistently being critical of me. Jesus Christ. i think i'm passing it now dear heavens. (laughter).

if my boyfriend doesn't choose to continue contact w me then i fear these journal entries may be a bore if not a nuisance. i'm going to keep writing anyway. i want new phone so i can use internet and do "photography".

slowly warming up here. the sun coming up so intoxicating in its beauty. im less than five minutes from main road where i must cross the street.

i love my boyfriend. it feels heavy to type such a thing. he can be very aggressive and only allows levity in the deep dark crevices of my soul when he's being abusive, tender and gentle or sweet, or if it's on his terms and he being goofy.

crossing the bridge now with the highway beneath. dis place is trump town baby. i remember the gate on this bridge having the large words trump in red the first time he had been elected. about to turn on the street leading to my destination. there's a catholic cemetery and church (mom attends church there w polish neighbor maria) i spy a milky white statue of Jesus and the sun beams down on the concrete. my lips are cold, my nose sniffling~ i can do this im almost there! church bells ringing. im right next to an evergreen and, two birds flapped out of it chirping!

#dear diary #communication #Journal #digital diary #Fluff #diary

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kyzveryown · 1 year ago

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OBSERVATIONS: KH MISSING LINK BETA #III

I’ve returned with another Observations for the third Kingdom Hearts: Missing Link closed beta. Like the second closed beta, there wasn’t much in terms of story which is to be expected. Below is a list of notes, thoughts, and observations I wrote down as I was watching the story cutscenes.

[Note: For context, I’m differentiating the versions of Scala ad Caelum from KHML and KH3/DR from the other. So, "α-Scala" refers to the KHML version, "β-Scala" refers to the KH3/DR version. Lastly, I call Brain "Blaine". It's just a preference.]

— It seems like the Founders (presumably) were able to track the temporal paths (the paths in which they're traveling through time) of the Union Leaders after they departed from the Ark before Daybreak's collapse. A "connection point" was mentioned so based on that, there can be two possibilities to explain what might've happened; the Ark's pods had a set destination and were supposed to arrive at the same point but didn't due to some unforeseen circumstance. Or the Ark's pods each had separate destinations and the Founders weren't expecting their temporal paths to be that spread out (basically, they were expecting them all to arrive roughly around the same time but not decades apart). This could mean that each pod traveled through time at different speeds. That would explain why they all arrived at different points in time. However, given what we know about the mental and physical effects of time travel via the pods, I'd say it's the first possibility. — Blaine and the Player seemingly arrived in α-Scala at the same time? The Founders (presumably) were anticipating Blaine's arrival, but not the Player's. So, that makes the Player an anomaly which is suspicious considering when, where, and how they initially died. How did their soul/heart even get back? — I wonder what the black feather represents. Maybe there's a secret society in α-Scala that worships and/or follows the path of darkness. It'd be interesting if that ends up being true. — I remember someone over on Twitter saying the Organization XIII-esque twins standing on the rooftop reminded them Kadaj and Loz from FFVII: Advent Children and now I can't unsee it. — The twins are tracking the Player (and possibly Remus) for some reason. I wonder why? Also, that short scene with them on the rooftop reminds me of KHIV reveal trailer. It mirrors the part where you see the Master (presumably) and the other hooded figure watching Sora fight the Kaiju Darkside. Of course, there's the possibility that neither of the black coats are The Master. Could be someone else entirely. — Nept definitely knows more than he's letting on. It seems like he has the power to either alter or erase memories and based on that one specific shot, that power may have something to do with his eye(s). This is a huge reach but maybe he has a Gazing eye? It wouldn’t be all that surprising if someone other than The Master had one. The Gazing eye could be something like a gift or a curse bestowed upon someone from a higher power (*cough FFXIII). It’d be interesting if that’s the case. — Looks like my "astral plane could be a chaotic realm" claim isn't too far off. I'll reserve my thoughts on that and wait for more information. If that turns out to even be somewhat true, then I’m going to have A LOT to talk about. Trust me, I am itching to write about that, but I’ll be patient.

And that covers all of my thoughts for now. Still patiently waiting for the game to release (again, whenever that’ll be).

#thoughts #opinion #kingdom hearts #khml #kh missing link #khml beta #khml beta spoilers #khux #union cross #kh union x #missing link #kingdom hearts missing link

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fanficwriting1 · 11 months ago

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Secrets of a Pimpernel

Chapter One: How it Begins

France - November 12, 1793

-Thorin-

Outside, a deafening cheer rose from a crowd who stood crowded around a wooden platform, the crush of bodies making it near impossible to get through the group, everyone pressed as close as they could to get a better view of the entertainment. The only thing that prevented the group from going up the platform were the two lines of guards that stood from the base of the guillotine to the entrance where the cart of aristos would clatter in, carrying those destined to meet Madame Guillotine that day.

As the cart would rattle through, those within would be pelted with rotten food and stones. The mothers would curl over their children, covering their ears, trying to spare them the jeers and cries, while fathers would strain to protect their wives the best they could with their hands tied to the posts of the cart.

Upon reaching the stairs, the cart would be opened and the women pulled out first, to be dragged up to the platform and forced onto their knees as the executioners lifted the lunette and laid the aristo down upon the bascule. Many of the aristos shed tears - some loud tears accompanied by prayers to God, others silent and resigned. The blade would be lifted to the crossbar, and the audience would hold their breath as it stopped momentarily at the crossbar, before it was released, severing the head from the body, which in turn would fall into the prepared basket. The head would then be lifted victoriously and the crowd would burst into cheers, cries of ‘down with the aristos’ and ‘justice for the people’ ringing through the air.

All these calls would float through the air and the small windows of the nearby prisons, forcing the captives to listen to those who cheered and called for their deaths. Within the prison air was rancid, the smell of urine and sick mingling together with the cold that snaked in through the window. Those who were inside were consumed with anxiety and desperation, men pacing the room, women comforting their children

One man could be separated from the others within the room. He sat against a far wall, head tilted upwards towards the light that came through a narrow window at the top of the room. His arms rested on his knees, thick and corded with muscle, but chained and connected to the wall. If he stood, he would’ve been much taller than those within the room, and none would be able to doubt he was an aristo. Tall and proud, regal and firm, his gaze would sweep through those in the room, scrutinizing the guards and those who came to drag away those destined to meet Madame Guillotine that day. But that was a week ago. Now he sat, despondent against the wall, and wished for his time to come, his time to meet Madame Guillotine and have this hell over with.

The others within the room would look at him cautiously, remembering the day they came in and took away his sister and his two nephews. Two of the men that had come in had been killed by the man and the others were in critical condition, limbs broken, heads bashed. It took nearly ten men to wrestle him to the ground as he roared and fought to get to his feet, watching as his sister and nephews were dragged away. His brother and brother-in-law had been executed nearly three months ago, near the beginning of the Reign of Terror.

He’d been kept chained to the wall after that incident and was subject to whatever beatings and humiliation of the guards the guards saw fit. His skin was painted in yellows, purples, and blues, face swelling and lip split. Amidst the beatings, he remained stoic, silent, and unresponsive. All life had left him the day the cheers had been screamed the day his sister and nephews were executed.

The squeak of the door opening announced the arrival of French soldiers. The one in charge turned to the jailer.

“You’ve been ordered to hand the commander to us.” He sneered at Thorin. “Citizen Smaug wishes to make an example of him to help squash any thought of rebelling against the Republic and to dissuade the Scarlet Pimpernel.”

“Does ‘e now?” Thorin glared as the man gave him a cruel smile, revealing his few teeth. He did not doubt that what Citizen Smaug had planned for him was unpleasant and that the man before him took pleasure in that thought. “‘Eery well.” The jailer approached Thorin, keys rattling as he undid the cuffs around his wrists, and heaved him upwards.

He was shoved forward and he stumbled, gritting his teeth. If he had had proper sustenance he would have been easily able to overcome these men. They were not soldiers who’d seen battle, but cowardly men who could only hope to weaken their enemy with starvation.

His fingers twitched as the men took either side of him. If he was headed to his death, he might as well send a few to their maker before him. He lunged towards the group. He slammed his hands into the gut of one, and slammed his foot down into the knee of another, grimly satisfied at the shot that came. His hands met another one’s face, a gush of blood spurting as the man cursed.

These were the men who had killed his family - the ones who had carved apart his heart and delighted in his anguish. He felt no remorse for his actions as he fought, painting his fists in blood. But his lack of nourishment and movement had weakened him significantly, and he couldn't defend against all the guards.

Hands shoved his face into the ground, and sharp pain exploded from his nose, tasting the tang of hot blood on his tongue. Feet met his ribs and back as the guards began stomping on him before wrestling him up.

"It'll be a pleasure to see you dead." One of them hissed.

Strength gone, Thorin's head rolled to the side as he was dragged from the prison. He should have waited until he was out to attack - he would've had a better chance of escaping them then. But he'd chosen not to. He didn't have much to live for.

As he prepared to be pulled out into the air and a wagon or thrown into some torture chamber, he was mildly surprised when he was dragged somewhere else and out another door, the hard grip upon his arms loosening and releasing.

“I apologize for the injuries we inflicted." One of the guards said. "Come, we do not have much time.”

Not much time? He was going to be executed, of course he didn’t have much time left. His eyes drew downwards when he was nudged.

“Your sister and nephews are currently awaiting you in England.”

He looked at the man in alarm, what kind of trick did they hope to - A small paper, containing the emblem of a flower, rested in the guard's hand. A Scarlet Pimpernel.

His heart dropped. They were still alive? Hope stirred in his chest. “Impossible.” he croaked. “I heard nothing of their rescue.”

“Smaug seems to have a particular dislike of you, Lord Durin. I have little doubt he wished for you to suffer mental anguish, to believe your family was dead. The Scarlet Pimpernel saved them just as he is doing for you. Now, we really must hurry lest we be caught. Come quickly.”

Slightly confused, but hopeful, Thorin followed the men, ducking when they said to do so and followed them through the winding streets, and turned into an empty alley where he was met with the sight of a wagon, a box, and a driver.

The man fit in with the poor of Paris. Grime covered his skin, his clothes were torn and worn through (better to be considered rags than clothes), smelling of the gutters - the same smell that had lingered in the room Thorin had been kept.

A crooked nose, hunched back, and swollen cheeks, his dark, matted hair stringing in clumps down his face. Yes, the man would be right at home in the slums of Paris - his eyes were shifty, darting from side to side, and his blistered hands fiddled with each other. He stood next to the wagon, hat pulled low.

"Ge' 'im in the cof'in." he rasped.

The guards nodded and Thorin found himself being directed into a narrow pine box that was stained inside with what was most likely dried blood. With one last look at the men surrounding him, Thorin clambered into the pine box and watched as the lid was placed over him, enclosing him in darkness, save the faint light that seeped through the cracks where the lid met the box. Nails were hammered in, and he started slightly as the box was suddenly lifted and pushed onto a higher platform - the wagon, no doubt, and it shifted into movement, and the faint noise of crying became clear.

The noise grew louder and louder until they emerged and the screams were deafening.

The execution square.

Thorin was disgusted at the cheers as they rolled into the square. But what made him sick, were the sobs.

As the wagon slowed, Thorin heard a muttered prayer.

"Lord, please, protect my children, let them be saved or their deaths be quick. Let them not suffer. Don't let -"

A sharp shinnk, and the prayer was cut off.

His chest tightened.

"You already have a coff'n!"

"Need more to mee' 'a quo'a." The driver rumbled.

A harsh sigh. "Fine." To someone else, "Two more o'er here!"

Sharp scrapes and something were settled to the side and on top of his box.

Clicking at the horses, the wagon set into motion again.

The cheers of the square quieted, and another shout came.

"Papers! Need to see your papers and the conten's of these 'ere coffins!"

The driver groaned. "Here ya go, offic'r. Papers. But, the boxes? You don' wanna do tha' offic'r. She was real pretty, bu' af'er the Madame?" The driver chuckled.

A harsh breath came from Thorin, and a thump came on his coffin - telling him to stay quiet.

"I need to see 'em regardless. Open it up!"

"Ay, ay, all righ'. Open one, won' ya. Show the good offic'r 'ere our bodies."

The cracking of the top coffin was all Thorin heard before there was a thud and the officer shouted.

"She was a beau'y!" Cackled the old wagon driver.

"Put it back! Back!"

Thudding sounded again, the securing of the top coffin's lid.

"Open the gate, send 'em through!"

The wagon lurched into movement again and he released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. The wagon rumbled over the road outside the gates, Thorin sliding back and forth in the pine box with each bump and jolt. It lurched again and he bit back a curse.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been in the box when the wagon slowed and came to a stop.

There was a scrape of the top coffin being removed, and then the thud and squeaking of the nails in his coffin being removed, and he covered his eyes, wincing at the brightness of the sky.

He breathed deeply as he clambered from the coffin, relishing the clean air, the air out of the city, out of the prison, and out of the coffin. He met the driver's gaze as he rose.

“Ya’ arm.” The man said thickly, pointing to Thorin’s arm. When he hesitated, the man spoke again. “Me don’ bite. Ya hur’. Need some bandages while ‘e ‘ait.”

Thorin gave him his arm gingerly and was surprised at the strength in the man’s grip. The man made short work of the dressing, dabbing the blood away and wrapping it quickly, tight enough to hold, but not to cut off the circulation. With a tap, the man finished and pushed Thorin's arm away, tucking his tools away.

"Do you know the Scarlet Pimpernel?" Thorin asked.

The man eyed him.

"I wish to make his acquaintance. To help him in his efforts."

The man shook his head. "The Pimpernel doesn' see any aris'oca's."

"Aristocrats?" Thorin clarified. "The one's he saves?"

The man nodded.

"Why not?"

The man was silent, and Thorin found himself intrigued by the green in the old man's eyes. They seemed to shine with an energy that the man shouldn't have at his age. Unconsciously leaning closer, he startled away as a sharp whine sounded and a group of French soldiers on horseback burst through the trees.

The soldiers surrounded them, and he raised his fists. The old man in the cart leaned back, relaxed, and Thorin realized he'd been betrayed - given a fleeting feeling of hope and freedom before he was dragged back and executed.

"'Ay won' hur' ya." The old man called.

He kept his fists raised but lowered them slightly as the soldiers dismounted and began undressing, revealing well-put-together men. His hands lowered to his sides. The guards and soldiers of France weren't this refined - they had blemished skin, and scars, and their way of holding themselves gave away their previous stations, such as the man on the cart. But the men who'd dismounted held themselves with elegance, of all things.

"Thorin!"

A heavy embrace took him off guard. "Dwalin?"

The man drew back and smiled at him. "It's good to see you again, Commander."

Thorin had believed that Dwalin - one of his closest comrades had perished. Dwalin wasn't an aristocrat, but his loyalty to Thorin was perceived as a threat by Smaug and was ordered to be killed. He'd been told that Dwalin had met his end at the guillotine the same day his father and brother did.

"How?" he croaked.

"Later." Dwalin clapped his shoulder. "We have to get you further away from here. The Pimpernel has set accommodations up for you." He gestured towards a riderless horse. "They're waiting for you, Thorin."

He needed no more direction and hastened to the horse, Dwalin close behind.

-Bilbo-

Bilbo watched as Commander Durin was ushered onto the horse prepared. His eyes followed the man’s movements carefully. He’d rescued his sister and nephews, but at this point, he was unsure if Commander Durin still believed it to be a trick - he’d seen Nori nursing a split lip and hurt arm, Dori a black eye, and Gloin was now limping which meant that Bilbo was now down three men. He would not send out injured men, especially when their wounds could make them more recognizable. They played with fire when they entered Paris, so going in now would be akin to drenching them in oil.

Thankfully there were still men who hadn’t been caught in the fray; Andrew was still in good condition, as was Bofur and the others.

The number of those who knew who he was and helped him was small. It had to be. He could not risk betrayal. Their work was far too important. He knew his men well, they were brothers in arms and purpose. A loss amongst them was felt keenly, and an oath had been taken - abandonment of their purpose or each other was never considered.

He leaned forward onto his knees as Commander Durin mounted. The Commander turned, and Bilbo was caught in the storm of his eyes. He could feel the pressure as the man’s eyes drifted over him, lingering on his face. Remaining hunched over, Bilbo looked away. It would be no good to pique the man’s interest - none who he saved would be privy to his true identity. Anonymity was a gift that shielded him and his men, and those he saved.

He waited until his men began leading Commander Durin away before beginning to remove the putty he’d placed over his face to disfigure himself. Oin was a great help in making such things realistic, being a healer meant he had much experience with disease and could make someone appear infected.

“Do you wish to head back into Paris?” Nori was pinching the bridge of his nose, accepting the cotton offered by Dori to shove up his nose to staunch the bleeding.

Pulling the cotton he'd stuffed in his mouth out, he shook his head. “I’m afraid not,” Bilbo relished the air that brushed across his freed skin. “I must get back to London. The Prince of Wales is hosting an event that I’m expected to attend.” As much as he wished he could stay, it was vital for him to make appearances to continue his facade of being an ostentatious, feckless young lord.

Such a character provided him accessibility. The French thought him to be far too vapid to be the Scarlet Pimpernel. Nobody thought much of a fool. The French expected a member of English nobility, but they expected one who carried themselves with a natural grace and charm, pleasant to be around, and engaging to speak to. Someone who was to be strong in their morals and cared for the plights of those around them. A man who was a fop? Never did they entertain such an idea. And Bilbo wished for it to remain that way. Without the scrutiny of suspicion, it was much easier to do what he needed to; so a fop, fool, brainless noble, he would remain.

He mounted his horse, urging it forward. He had a party to attend.

Hope you all enjoyed! Let me know what you thought!

#a03 fanfic #thorin x bilbo #a03 writer #bilbo baggins #bagginshield #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #hobbit au #scarlet pimpernel inspired

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darklydeliciousdesires · 9 months ago

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There in the Shadows - A Graf Von Baphomet/Reader One Shot Story.

You and this absolute beauty having a wild time together? Why not? I mean, just look at the man. HNNG.

Words - 1,056

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

You can feel the weight of his eyes upon you, an unbreakable green gaze that sends a tingle over the back of your neck. It’s like he’s challenging you to look back at him, dare meet that unblinking stare borne of a desire to make your legs buckle with his fuck.

Oh, you dare to.

Your eyes snap to his, unblinking as you turn from your friends, throwing a few words in parting over your shoulder as you walk away. “Be back later. I need to go sink my teeth into that man.” And god, how you would eat him like he dripped honey from every pore. He lifts his chin with a confident smirk, the light catching the razors of his cheekbones, a beauty that would be angelic if he didn’t radiate an aura of pure sexual menace.

The way his eyes tour your figure as you approach, he must have undressed you in his mind at least twice in the time it takes to arrive before him, your lips curling into a smile as you raise an eyebrow.

“You called?”

His eyes narrow in slight confusion. “I didn’t say a word.”

“No,” you speak, grasping his jaw as you lean in close. “You didn’t say anything. But you still called.” Your thigh presses against his crotch, opening your mouth to run your tongue up his cheek. “And I answered, so now you can take me somewhere quiet and show me exactly why you did, can’t you?”

You feel his slender body quiver against you, Graf taking your hand, a grin splitting his mouth wide as he nods. “I can.”

The afterparty is in a bar that borders the venue the band played in, only a small alleyway separating the two buildings, and your destination of choice as he leads you into the shadows, pushing you back against the cold bricks. He looks upon you for a few seconds, running a fingertip down the column of your throat, hooking it beneath the necklace you wear before pulling you into a kiss that knocks the breath from you.

Usually, kisses take a little build, gain momentum gradually. Not his. His are an immediate winter chill, an icy wind biting against hot flesh, feral but executed with the kind of finesse that has your walls beginning to prickle with want for him almost immediately. Your teeth nip at the plump flesh of his lower lip, and it coaxes a groan from him that rumbles like a bear growl, primal, a little danger awoken as your hands fist his hair and tug hard.

Pulling his head back, you expose his neck to the hunger of your lips, and he lets you, arousal rushing through him like a blizzard. You bite and it arrows right to his cock, using your thigh to tease the hardness you feel pressing hot against you, his hands grasping your skirt and pulling until it rucks up at your waist. It’s a good job you aren’t particularly fond of the undies you have on, his hands grasping and yanking until they tear, the cool of the night hitting against your bare sex. That is, until his hand presses.

Hot fingers sink into the soft wet of your folds, his mouth returned to yours, kissing the whimper from you as he strokes at you, makes you pulse against him keenly as long, slender digits rub in precision over your clit. Sensations fizz up your spine, panting against the roll of his tongue with yours, your hands stroking his slender arms, nails grazing tattooed flesh.

A little cry splinters in your throat as those fingers plunge into your cunt, raking, pressing, fucking you until the lewd noise of it fills the air, Graf groaning as he sucks your tongue, his other hand clawing at the front of his jeans to free his cock. It runs feral between you, his mouth moving to your neck, biting your flesh hard, sucking a dark bruise as his hands grasp your thighs, lifted with ease. His hips press you there, his grip releasing to drop you straight down onto his cock with a satisfied grunt.

The pleasure of him daggering you deep skitters up your spine one vertebrae at a time, his hands moving to clutch beneath your thighs, keeping you spread as he drives into you wildly, all heat and sin. Fuck, the way he groans as he does it, too, the noise fracturing through your chest as your hands clutch tight in his hair, tugging hard, magmatic kisses steeped in grit and sin.

He’s heavy within you, his fuck more powerful than one would think of a man so slight, hip bones pounding against your thighs in an animalistic rutting you know will leave bruises behind as your walls pulse around him, soaking every last delicious inch of his cock. He spears into you so hard, you scream out, spurring him further as he scrapes sparks along your walls, tightening on him, your nails sliding from his hair and digging into the nape of his neck, shredding his flesh.

It prickles over your skin like hail, pleasure darting over your nerves, his lips leaving scorching paths over your neck, each marked out by bites of animalistic branding. It’s surging, like a dark wave, you the lone craft upon the huge, vast ocean that is him and the ecstasy that washes over your bones, your chest heaving as you feel his tide dragging at your shore.

You’re split mercilessly on each hard punch of his cock, remade around him, his hands digging in at the soft of your thighs as he buries his mouth against your neck, sucking a welt as his body begins to quiver. His groans are almost helpless as he arrows you so hard, tears stream down your cheeks, your body lit up by the incandescent heat of stars streaking through you, coming undone with a wail as his hips reach staccato, cock jerking and flooding you with cum.

The feel of it burns through you, a forest fire blazing wild, reducing you to cinder as you pant into his masses of beautiful, long hair, rain beginning to patter down over your spent, trembling bodies.

As if the sky could possibly cleanse the sin that sticks to your skin.

As if you’d ever want it to.

A/N - Did you like it? If so, please do reward your hard-working author with a lil' comment and a reblog. Thanks!

#graf von baphomet #graf von baphomet fanfiction #david graf #psychonaut 4 #black metal

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whitecoatwhump · 2 years ago

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Today's vibe:

Two whumpees on the run together have both been captured and are being transported somewhere. One of them is more visibly scared than the other, and in an effort to reassure them, the second one smiles and says "Don't worry. No matter what happens, we'll still have each other"

Upon arriving at their destination, their captors separate them immediately. Whatever happens, each whumpee has to handle it on their own until they can find each other again

#whump #multiple whumpees #separation #captivity

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sailtomarina · 2 years ago

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Don't be rude

It was her first true outing in months since The Breakup of All Breakups, a.k.a. the amicable separation of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. She hadn’t allowed herself a moment of respite since that awful day and the many awful days that followed as possessions were split, home addresses were changed, and friends divided up as if they, too, were goods rather than nuanced human beings.

The choosing of sides by the Weasleys and the Potters and the Longbottoms wasn’t expected given the peaceful nature of their split, but a natural movement of pieces as priorities overlapped. Of course Ginny celebrated her brother’s first day as co-owner of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes rather than Hermione’s birthday— Harry was her husband and he logically went the same way. However, Neville never neglected Hermione’s special day, gifting her a new potted plant each year, and since he married Pansy Parkinson, that meant Hermione had made an unlikely friend with her former enemy, one who had softened considerably under her husband’s unyielding warmth and caregiving.

Friendship with Pansy meant a great deal of new realities for Hermione: a trending closet, regular visits to the hair salon and spa, frequent work lunches at the next up-and-coming restaurant, and a refusal to let wallowing breakupees lie for longer than strictly appropriate.

Hermione’s time of mourning was over. Pansy’s evening of frivolity had arrived.

Look like a million galleons

Grab the attention of every single available person, as well as the taken ones

Drink at least one alcoholic beverage per venue

Dance with at least one person

Take one kiss before the night is finished

“Pansy, this list is ridiculous.” Hermione stared at the parchment. The third was the only plausible item, as all the others were far beyond her natural capabilities.

“Are you wearing the outfit I put out?” came a voice from the kitchen.

“Yes, but—”

“And did you do your hair and makeup the way I showed you?”

“Yes, that, too—”

“Then the first one is already done.” Pansy popped into her bedroom at last, nodding her approval at the sight of Hermione where she stood in front of the mirror. “Perfect. You’re going to knock them all dead.”

“I don’t want them dead. That defeats the purpose entirely.” Hermione glanced back and forth between Pansy and the mirror, a dubious expression on her face. Her tamed curls did look fantastic, and her eyes particularly beguiling with her emphasized lashes. So that just left…

“How much was this outfit?” The two-piece affair included a dark green velvet mini skirt that hugged her rump, while the black halter top exposed her midriff, shoulders, and the entirety of her back.

“Tsk, tsk, don’t be rude, Granger. You don’t just ask the cost of a gift like that.”

“That’s how corrupt politicians are bought.”

“Are you a politician?”

“…I could be.”

“Yes, well, until that day, accept my gift and slay like the bad witch that you are. Let’s go!” And with a snap of her fingers, Pansy was off to the Floo. She didn’t look behind her to see if Hermione followed—she knew the witch thrived off of praise and clear directions.

Hermione followed her because she was a bad, bad witch, and she did want to slay tonight and every night after. She deserved it.

Hermione neglected to confirm in all her preparation for frivolity the location and audience of their destination. What welcomed her upon her toss of powder and seemingly innocent pronouncement of “The End of the Rainbow” was a club. Not a nice, familiar pub. Not a classy restaurant. The premier magic club, complete with tangible rainbow pathways connecting the levels instead of stairs. Their Floo dropped them right in the main entrance next to several other fireplaces, a transportation zone that rivaled the Ministry’s. This decision wasn’t for show, but necessity, as The End of the Rainbow was the largest nightclub of its kind in existence, housing several smaller, unique clubs within its grandiose structure, each one with its own theme and branding.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Oh, no, no, no, honey, it’s much too soon for that.” Pansy’s sharp bob didn’t sway an inch as she executed a swift step and twist, handily swinging Hermione 180 degrees away from the fireplace and out towards the colorful atrium to stand beneath a board floating on literal clouds.

“Pansy.”

“Granger.”

“Please tell me those aren’t actually leprechauns with pots of gold over there.” The men in question cackled as they sifted coins through their fingers, winking at passerby as if tempting them to try and take their treasure. She remembered how Ron reacted to the reality of their illusions at the World Cup.

“If it bothers you, then don’t look. Just read the board and let me know what interests you.”

There seemed to be a venue for every fantasy: standard-variety muggle clubs, a unicorn forest for witches only, a Hogwarts Graduate School where “students” had the choice of being re-sorted into their dream house, and even Alexandria’s Library for bibliophiles like herself. Her hand gravitated towards the latter.

“Hermione!”

Daydreams of ancient scrolls and men in togas (unrealistic, but it was a fantasy after all) screeched to a halt at the call of one of her dearest friends. Luna pounced on her to deliver a hug surprisingly strong for a woman so slight.

“No!” Pansy dodged the girl’s attempt to grab her next, squeaking as she backed up into the arms of her old friend and Luna’s latest flame. “Blaise!” Luna took advantage of her beau’s positioning to sandwich Pansy in with an enthusiastic squeeze.

“Hey, Pansy. Granger. Happy birthday.”

She might not know Blaise Zabini very well yet, but she did enjoy the way in which he played off of Luna’s energy. “Thank you. I take it Pansy invited you along to witness my torment?”

“Of course she did.”

Her stomach once again dropped at the sound of the third voice, equally evocative as it was aggravating.

“Malfoy.” As Hermione’s eyes settled on his form, leaning far too casually against a pillar, his arms crossed against his stomach, she cursed Pansy, the entire Malfoy line, Salazar Slytherin, and Merlin himself for his presence. No man should possess such physical form, as if stolen from Adonis himself–those shoulders, that waist, his ass (Circe, help her), those quidditch thighs, a face fitting of the son of a woman named Narcissa…and that hair. Her housemates used to make fun of his sleek, pale locks in school, ermine-like in quality, but now all she wanted to do was fist it while riding him to exhaustion.

“Earth to Granger.”

“Hm?” She was caught in his gaze, as cloudy as they were confusing every time she looked into them.

“Her-mi-o-ne.”

This time, the use of her given name zapped her into movement. She missed the smirk that crossed Malfoy’s face as she swung around to respond to Pansy who wore a disturbingly delighted expression.

“Have you decided where you’d like to start the night?”

“You have to promise not to laugh.”

“The library, I take it?” he drawled from behind her.

Hermione refused to look at him again. “Precisely.”

“Well, it is your birthday and we are here to entertain.”

Before Hermione could lead the charge, Pansy darted forward, looping her arms into Blaise and Luna’s and leaving the remaining two behind.

Damn her.

“Shall we?”

He stood very close, elbow extended. It would be rude of her to ignore it, and Pansy did already tell her to not be rude.

She took his arm.

“Not too fast? These heels are ridiculous.” Hermione waved her free hand at the death traps on her feet.

“Of course, though they do make your arse look fantastic.” He grinned at the blush that swarmed up her neck and onto her cheeks. “How much do you want to bet there isn’t a single tome in their supposed library you haven’t read?”

“Pfffffft, that’s too easy.”

Walking and talking with Draco Malfoy felt as natural as breathing, if Hermione were to be truthful to herself. He led her effortlessly up the curve of the rainbow towards the towering columns. She imagined this as an actual date, rather than the machinations of a Slytherin graduate to help her recover from heartbreak. They halted just under the archway, monolithic faces peering sightlessly down on them.

“What should we bet on, then?”

He’d turned her to face him, arm relaxing to curl his fingers along her arm before dropping to his side. She stared into his chest, mere centimeters from her nose–he smelled of bergamot, rosemary, and sandalwood. Inhaling deeply, she similarly gathered her courage and looked up.

“How about whether or not I’ll tick off every item on Pansy’s to-do list?”

He searched her eyes, the barest hint of a smile playing on his lips, before responding. “And what’s on this list?”

She broke eye contact to reach into her purse for the parchment, which she handed over silently. The hint turned into reality as he laughed fully, an unfettered sound she rarely heard but now wished to hear every day.

“I’ll bet on you fulfilling this list,” he said at last, wiping tears away from his eyes and still chuckling to himself.

“And what do you demand if you lose?”

He glanced upward at the club they still had yet to fully enter, before turning his warm smile back on her. “How about unlimited access to the Malfoy family library? Forever.”

Good Godric. Even after the Ministry gutted their library after the war, there were still priceless treasures to uncover within its walls. Hermione had seen the records noted by the cursebreakers; she knew she could spend a lifetime studying the tomes within and still not put a dent in the full knowledge available.

“...and if you win?”

She wanted him to lose. She needed him to lose. Nothing else could match open-ended entrance to the Malfoy library.

“One date.”

She blinked. Opened her mouth, then shut it again without speaking. Hermione looked for what had to be a joke, but came up with nothing but genuine want in his gaze. She didn’t move as he brought one hand up to brush against her jaw. He leaned in slowly, so slowly, until his lips just hovered above hers without quite touching.

“What do you say?”

She answered him by bringing her own hand up, fisting that perfect hair just like she had always wanted, and pulling him down to close the distance between them.

That was item 5 complete–the rest of the list now seemed trivial. What had she been worrying about this whole time? Hermione’s heart swelled within her chest, beating in defiance of her seeming heartbreak as if to say, “I am here. I am wanting.”

They parted their connection with a gasp and it was several seconds before Hermione found the presence of mind to answer his question.

A couple weeks later as they snogged against bookshelves in Draco’s ancestral home, Hermione finally said yes to revealing their relationship to their loved ones. Pansy was insufferable in her gloating. It didn’t matter who won or who lost, because in the end, they each got what they wanted, which was, of course, each other.

WC 1879 I got into this prompt far more than I expected when I first started it late last night. I might be convinced to extend it into something more substantial if there's any interest :)

#dramione prompt #dramione #harry potter fanfiction #dhr fanfiction #draco malfoy x hermione granger #draco malfoy #hermione granger #pansy parkinson

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itsukismoon · 11 months ago

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Main Story - Chapter 4 (Summary)

For previous chapters, please refer to here and here

Heads up: very long summary. 憧蝶 Is the name of the organisation Nanashi, Testament, Mirror and the Dark Night Duo are a part of. I’m unsure of how to translate the name so I’ll just call them “Butterfly”.

Est reveals that 150 years ago, separated cases w the same symptoms as the ones from black fairies’ miasma already appeared. finding the records of this was extremely hard for two reasons: 1) either medical limitation (medicine at the time still didnt know what was going on) 2) someone is currently trying to hide the information. hes pretty sure theres some kind of connection. but anyway, knowing this can be a huge help to Kaiai, who will go back w Sion to Sorciana (capital of the Country of Magic, the setting of ch.2 and HQ of Magia Seminar Guild) to look further into the matter. now its Gui’s turn to speak, and he drops a few bombs:

If they want to know more about the key, they need to go to the mechanics’ guild (Niji no kanata) and look for Oswald, a grandmeister whos a leading figure in mechanical engineering. in the now out-of-print record book by him, the encyclopaedia of inventions and dreams, there is a secret box (secret boxes open only if certain instructions are followed, kind of like in da vinci’s code). in particular, said secret box presents the same motifs and decorations as Emma’s key, and apparently it was made for Eden, Emma’s father. the box’s whereabouts are unclear, but they still should go find Oswald and ask.

In order to go there, the mechanical city of Woodman, the shortest route is to take the moon road to Dilettant, gastronomy’s country. so that’ll be their next destination! Emma’s worried that the butterfly will act and break some havoc, but Camus walks in and tells her not to worry, Bloody lady will take it upon itself to keep in control the situation so that they cant do anything without being noticed. Mam’s pride has been hurt after the incident, so she has already sent multiple spies all across the world. they will get revenge on the Butterfly. Camus also reminds Emma about her purification powers, and that she should definitely check that out. Crow chimes in adding that if they get to Oswald and find out more about eden, Emma will find out more about herself and her origins! and when that happens they will definitely be there for her, since shes their nakama :)

The gang arrives in Dilettant, and Rouge starts fawning over the mouth-watering smells and sounds of wine glasses being clinked, but before he can run off the others stop him: they’re not here to have fun, they have to be careful about the butterfly! Itsuki apologises, saying that the next moon road to Woodman will take some more time to appear, so in the meantime they’re stuck here. Noah scolds rouge for his usual careless behaviour, and Gran approaches Rouge asking something but seeming very indecisive about it, like he doesn't want to ask it in front of the others. Victor arrives, happy to have found a nice brand of liquor. apparently, while everyone at Bloody lady is busy dealing w the aftermath of the incident, he joined tsukiwatari to look for some ingredients. he says that his job is to keep the bar lively and provide for a resting place when things are rough. he also notices that everyone has a weary face, and asks if they're going to spend the entire week being miserable. they should enjoy their time here, after all, tsukiwatari is the guild of exploration, they should be having fun in new places.

He explains that Dilettant used to be the country of manors (荘園) with an extremely elitist society and poor culture. the feudal lords who owned the land had all the power, and if you were not one of them, your life was basically terrible. social status used to be everything, but then Oscar, the duke of Dilettant and self-proclaimed “genius of the tongue”, came and changed the way of life of the entire country, whose economy is now based on food and good cuisine. he has an extremely refined sense of taste and chose only the finest of flavours while promoting all talented chefs regardless of their social status. Emma remembers hearing of him from Lannes, who had to spend three entire days analysing all of his guild’s (Gastronomy) reports. apparently Oscar eats 20 meals a day lol. Itsuki explains that the prestigious guild reviews local specialties, has a magazine with all kinds of recipes, and the guild home is a restaurant, Ballroom, whose reservations run out for months at a time. although tsukiwatari would like to eat there, they’ll have to settle for something else.

All around them are shops self promoting themselves as Oscars favourites, etc. all of a sudden, said Oscar walks out of a restaurant, people gathering all around and the owner following in tow. Oscar walks to the restaurant banner saying that the food has been “approved by Oscar himself”, and he tears it down, adding “what a foolish thing”. as this happens, tsukiwatari can clearly see that he has a black fairy with him, although he doesn't seem to be losing his control. Emma calls Navi to ask if he has any idea of whats going on, but he's just as clueless as them. in the meantime Oscar leaves, so they chase after him in the back alleys of the town, but instead they find some monster/black fairy familiars. after defeating them, Gran asks Rouge if he knows something

Rouge:” what?? why would i know something??”

Gran:” ah… i see…. yeah, that makes sense…”

Anyway, since they have lost sight of Oscar, they decide to go to the guild hq to see if they can talk things out. they meet Walter, who notices Emma’s guildkeeper pin and asks if shes here on federation business. he's a bit scary, so the interaction goes like this:

Emma: "u-uhm-" Crow: "cmon don't be scared" rouge: "ahah, get in the right spirit! those arms and neck etc... so broad" Noah: "..." Itsuki: "don't be afraid. if its broadness, Gran wont lose either" Gran: "oi💢"

They tell him they want to meet w Oscar, but Walter is crystal clear: the duke is not meeting anyone as hes busy preparing for the week’s big event; and he walks off. the gang hears a pair of familiar voices: Joe and Ace are working as trainees at the guild to become chefs because apparently they just got fired from the Butterfly AND they know nothing about Oscar’s black fairy. Emma asks them what their goal is, trying to destroy people’s dreams.

“its for the greater evil! the greater evil is just greater evil!!! right Ace?

“yeah!!! nothing more nothing less!” (they're just stupid)

They ask more questions to them but they just don't know shit. Noah says they're about as useless as Rouge. someone from the Gastronomy guild steps in, asking them to go wash the dishes instead of wasting their time around… it’s Cuit! he introduces himself to the group, telling them he couldn't help but overhear those two talking about evil, black fairies and Oscar’s name being mentioned.

In the meantime, at the Butterfly’s hq, Mirror asks if they’ve made today’s move yet. Testament denies, saying that they overdid it last time, so now the federation is keeping a close eye on them. furthermore, Bloody lady has apparently found the hq? they predicted this, but its still quite a bother: its best to lay low for a while. in the meantime, Nanashi should infiltrate somewhere… he complains about being alone, since Testament fired the Dark Night duo. doesn't Mirror want to help wink wink? “no, I'm a bystander.”

Back to the guild, Cuit apologises to the others for Walter: he’s very quiet and due to his appearance he can come off as a bit scary; in truth, Cuit describes him as a gentle bear in the forest (+side note for those who do not know it: he's a poison expert! thats his job at the guild since, according to Cuit, the more poisonous the ingredient the tastier it is). while the entire place is in chaos due to the upcoming big event, a crying woman is yelling at Kuchen, Cuit’s older brother. she and Kuchen had a date yesterday, but he didn't go, and she asks him whether his job or her are more important.

K:”shut uppp. and don't come to my workplace, its annoying” + “don't say such embarrassing things. its obvious that my job is more important”

After the woman runs away in tears, Riche, Kuchen and Cuit’s younger brother and Gastronomy’s sommelier, comes into the picture, lightly scolding him. Kuchen defends himself, it’s not his fault that she’s taking it so seriously: he was just playing around with her. Cuit adds that sometimes the other person will take things more seriously, so he has to think about these things.

before Kuchen can say anything else, he notices the group and asks about them. they all move to a more secluded space where they introduce each other (Emma holds her hand out to Riche in greeting but he hides behind Cuit, they don't say it here but Riche has a fear of women or smth lol; then Kuchen teases Emma saying shes easy to read, and its obvious shes angry at him for making the girl cry early; they don't start on the right foot). they tell the trio about black fairies, and the fact that Oscar is currently being possessed. according to Riche this adds up onto his recent behaviour: he's been distancing himself from everyone more than usual, he's been visiting restaurants alone, places he had previously rated as bad, etc. the problem is that Oscar is the pillar of gastronomy in the country, and with this upcoming event of the week, the “Grand Ball”, the fact that Oscar is like this while also being the one in charge for all the chefs and dishes in charge is a HUGE problem. the event will be a national banquet where many foreign royals and nobles will attend: if it doesn't go well, it’ll be over for the entire country. but here comes the dilemma the group cant wrap their head around: black fairies make people aggressive and go out if control; why is it that Oscar looks so calm? the only way to find out is to meet him.

In the mean time, in a small alleyway, a chef is yelling and complaining that he didn't get chosen for the Grand Ball banquet. this is so unfair blah blah blah. all of a sudden, though, Oscar approaches him…

Walter is updated of the situation, but he refuses to force a meeting between the group and Oscar unless actual chaos happens. Oscar’s daily work is still fundamentally important, and mustn't be impeded in any way. the only way to actually get them to meet him is by proposing a food that he has never eaten before… Crow remembers an ancient recipe of a banished dish they found during an expedition, the Dark Pot. according to Cuit, its a legend among chefs worldwide, and it was banned because of its extremely strong flavour. Walter is certain Oscar has never eaten the dish before, since he’s never had to poison taste it; if they manage to make it, he will surely come. however, since the main chef and menu for the Grand Ball haven't been chosen yet, the group will have to handle this themselves, as even Cuit is working to get Oscar’s approval. the Dark Night duo overhears the convo, and they challenge the group to become the world’s best chefs. moving on, with Lannes’ help Emma manages to get a copy of the translated recipe, which leaves everyone confused:

ingredients: slim pig belly, floppy onions, blissful cabbage, smiling potatoes, snow grass (”sukisusuki kusa” lol), magma cacao pulp, mad grapes (according to Cuit they can all be purchased in Dilettant)

some of the steps include: sprinkle salt following your heart, stir the ingredients while shouting the food spell “◯◉◇☆x~!”, simmer it as hot as your first love.

the recipe doesn't make sense. they decide to rely on crow’s good luck to make a decent dish.

snow grass: ill be very brief because these chapters are mostly humour based. Emma, Noah, Itsuki, Crow and Walter go to a forest to get the grass; there’s plenty of poisonous plants which is why Walter is tagging along. the Dark Night duo is also following the group and they eat poisonous plants bc they see Walter doing it thus getting food poisoning. they get to where the grass is, and the taller they get it the better. the duo jumps ahead, but they get trapped by the grass who traps enemies in self-defence. Itsuki follows suit, but when extracting the grass, the plant lets out a soul-wrenching scream, while also working an aphrodisiac on Itsuki, making him fall in love. Crow jumps in to the rescue and everything goes well. heres a few things we find out during this ch: Itsuki loves cooking but he’s terrible at it (which is why he’s giving it his all to make this dish), Noah used to live in a forest with other kids but said forest doesn't exist anymore, Walter comes from a family of poison specialists, and he holds Oscar in an extremely high regard.

magma cocoa powder: now its only Emma and Kuchen, and he takes her to a shop that sells the cocoa they need, which is apparently extremely spicy. Emma politely thanks him, but he tells her to stop being so formal and to drop the “-san” honorific. as he laughs at her stiffness, and a crowd of girls go crazy from afar because omg THE Kuchen just laughed!!!! and who is that his new gf???? they banter for a bit until Emma changes the topic, asking him if he’s ready for the Grand Ball. Kuchen replies saying that he’ll just do it the same as always: if he’s the one making the chocolate then obviously it will be the best. then Emma says “you have so much confidence. you truly are a genius chocolatier, aren't you?” to which Kuchen doesn't reply, a troubled expression on his face. as they walk, Emma spots a shop with a poster saying their chocolate was even approved by Kuchen, who stops dead in his tracks and asks Emma to buy him some. she does, but apparently the chocolate is low-quality. he tears the poster down and starts fighting with the owner, who apparently knows him. Kuchen accuses him of copying the recipe of the chocolatier who used to work for the shop, the one he had actually praised, and of mass-producing the chocolate to save money. they get into a bitter fight, and the owner yells at Kuchen that an arrogant person like him will be shunned immediately the moment he loses Oscar’s backing. they walk off, and kuchen explains that things like these happen quite often; but in any case, he has no intention of leaving the guild: if there’s anywhere he can create the best chocolate in the world, that’s next to Oscar. Emma says that she understands, and that his passion for chocolate is shining through, which leaves Kuchen shocked (they usually take him for a fool). they go back to the guild, where Victor is fighting w Riche to make him try a spritz (Riche is a full believer of pure wine only despite liking the spritz). Emma approaches Cuit, complimenting him for his hard work and adding that she should truly be more like him. Cuit says “yeah thats right… if it wasn't for hard work I probably… (implying he’s no one without hard work → talentless), leaving Emma like ???????

mud grapes: Riche, Victor and Emma this time! they visit the most famous vineyard in the outskirts of the city, and they easily get the grapes as the vineyard gifts them for the special occasion, although usually mud grapes cannot be grown artificially. Emma mentions that she thanks both Kuchen and Riche-san, and Riche stops dead in his tracks. DID SHE JUST CALL KUCHEN WITHOUT A HONORIFIC?? ARE THEY ALREADY THIS CLOSE??? WHAT HAPPENED DURING THAT OUTING!!! IS SHE TRYING TO DISTRACT HIS BROTHERS!!! etc. Emma is trying to defend herself but Riche is literally standing meters away bc of his (hasnt been explained yet) problem with women, whatever that is (Emma believes he just hates her, but Victor understands right away).

(im not putting many pics in these summaries but i just want you guys to understand)

He gets closer while still hiding behind Victor. he admits she’s different from all the other women that get close to his brothers, and they kinda make peace? but Emma feels a weird sensation, the same one she felt when she saw Oscar from afar, and shivers. Navi appears from the key, scaring Riche shitless, telling her she’s almost got the right answer! this time its just familiars though! a fight ensues, and once its over, due to the presence of the familiars, Emma knows that a black fairy is nearby, although shes unsure as to who might be behind this all.

In the meantime, in the city, Gran is alone with Rouge. the latter playfully asks him whats going on: everyone’s busy gathering the ingredients but he's inviting him out to hang out. Gran tells him that he's grateful for his presence, and that despite acting sleazy, he's always very helpful, especially when the others get a bit chaotic. however, he's been doubting him ever since the incident at Bloody lady. when Itsuki and Noah were abducted, the kidnapper dropped a handkerchief: its the one Gran gave Rouge on the very first day they met. furthermore, he guided them around the casino, gave them information on the secret gathering, and he was able to precede the DN duo. Gran asks if he’s a tsukiwatari nakama, if he's truly family?

Emma and Gran meet up at the guild. Noah didn't really care about the cooking part so he went somewhere. as for Rouge… Gran says he went for a drink somewhere. Victor is also somewhere in the city. this means that Itsuki and Crow are the only two ones cooking (aka… its BAD). when they walk in the kitchen, Gran nearly collapses to the floor, attacked by a black miasma coming from Itsuki’s plate. he begs Emma to try the food (its actually black materia), and Emma is like “THIS IS EDIBLE????”; she wants to try regardless, since Itsuki’s eyes are shining like two stars. Gran tells her to wait, he needs to fetch stomach medicine first- and Crow just tells Itsuki that theres no way Emma can eat that unless he wants to actually kill her… Itsuki apologises, he got too ahead of himself :( the black fairies appear and start making fun of him (”this… this has the smell of death”, “humans eat such trash??? their foolishness knows no bounds…”). The rest of the preparations are a bit of a mess, with Crow cutting the vegetables in fist-sized portions, the unclear instructions on seasoning, etc. As the dish is slow cooking, Emma meets Riche outside the kitchen, and together they overhear Kuchen and Cuit talking from another kitchen. Cuit, despite being terribly busy with managing guests and staff, has decided to change his menu, in order to better suit Kuchen’s perfect dessert. Riche accuses Emma of peeping, but Kuchen overhears their banter and invites them in, where he has Emma try the desert he’ll serve at the grand ball: a multilayered chocolate cake. Emma finds it perfect, commenting that this is why Kuchen is so confident… this remark leaves Cuit feeling insecure, so he excuses himself with a lie and leaves.

Emma returns to the dark pot kitchen, and we are told the DN duo’s past (directly narrated by them despite no one asking lol). They lived in a nameless country, in a nameless city, with no parents nor house, a place rampant with diseases and crime. Their dream was to become the world’s no.1 heroes of justice. They would stand up to adults bullying children, getting beaten up in their stead. One day, they fell into a trap made by the bad guys, were confronted by the police and had to run away from the city. Then, they arrived to a certain country, where they started working as servants to a certain noble, an evil man who stole money from the people. They tried finding evidence of his crimes to get him prosecuted, but failed and were accused instead. This process of being kicked out and being accused repeated itself a few times, until they decided to become bounty hunters to make ends meet. On their first job, they got saved by Nanashi who, upon hearing of their past, told them that since they had always lost to “evil” then they just had to become even more “evil” to win. To conquer evil with evil (ikemen villains im looking at you). And thats how they started working with the Butterfly. Unfortunately, they were fired from there too, and after Oscar approached them in Dilettant, they have decided to prove their worth through cooking. Crow says that Joe (pink haired brother, the oldest one) is making a terrible face, and that dreams are supposed to be more fun to talk about. Ace disagrees, some happy people with sparkling dreams like them and no hardships could never understand. The duo goes back to taking care of their pot.

In the meantime, Victor and Noah are talking together as they stroll through town. Noah thinks the others act a bit too friendly, and he points out how weird Primus club is for having members that don't trust each other like Camus and Ymir. Victor says that although his guild is made up of selfish people with different agendas and personalities, the casino is an irreplaceable home to all of them. As they talk, they spot Oscar with no black fairy, and they chase after him. Scene cuts to Nanashi who has successfully infiltrated somewhere, he talks to himself until he goes “damn… I'm already at the talking to myself stage? I might be missing Joe and Ace more than i thought… hey, black fairy, you’re the only one I can count on here; there’s someone that’ll be perfect for you…”.

The dark pot has been completed! Emma goes into the courtyard to report to Cuit, and finds him sitting on a bench. He apologises for not being of much help, and when asked about how his menu is proceeding, he answers that it’s still a bit… blurry. Emma notices a mug with snow grass soup in it. Cuit asks if she wants to try it, and when she does she’s overjoyed! Then, they proceed to have a cute little interaction where he asks her to drop the honourifics, while he switches from “Emma-san” to “Emma-chan”! Feeling a bit less shy, she asks him if he’s worried about anything, adding that as a guildkeeper she can help him with anything at all! Cuit laughs and inches closer, he’s so happy: first she compliments his cooking with sparkling eyes, now she’s lending an ear to him… he explains that his Grand Ball full course meal included Riche’s wines and Kuchen’s chocolate; however, he knows that Oscar won’t choose him for the event, so he’s just holding back his brothers. On the other hand, Kuchen managed to create the perfect dish effortlessly, so he can’t help but compare himself to his brother. Emma tells him that the only thing she can say is that the soup he made was so delicious, she smiled. that’s why—

Victor: “WE HAVE A PROBLEM!”.

Victor and Noah come rushing in the garden and they start telling how they chased Oscar into a suspicious building where he was having a suspicious meeting with about 10 suspicious looking chefs, where he told them that the Ball is approaching soon so failure will not be an option as his black fairy hovered behind him. Emma and Cuit suspect he’s planning to make the black fairy go wild at the Grand Ball. Riche approaches them, but he seems unresponsive. A black fairy appears at his side, together with Nanashi, who declares not to know anything about Oscar’s situation (is he telling the truth though?); Crow and the others went to patrol the streets, so now they have to handle Riche by themselves. Riche pours wine into a glass, then smashes it on the ground once he’s gulped it all down. Kuchen arrives at the scene, and Riche starts with a monologue on how he will never forgive his brothers! They are just TOO WONDERFUL! Kuchen has received a gift from God, Which is why he’s the best chocolatier around; the women he dates are unworthy, and he should just cut them all off!!!!!! And why is Cuit so insecure when his cooking is one of the best around!!!!!!!!! When he was a kid he was a troublemaker who got into fights a lot, but he always made sure to come back home in time because he wanted to eat Cuit’s meals!!!!!!!! He will never forgive him for underestimating his own cooking. Kuchen understands, then asks Cuit if he’s been looking at the face of the person who eats his food lately. Emma joins in, but before much can be said, Riche continues: HOW DARES OSCAR LEAVE HIS BROTHERS OUT THE GRAND BALL!!!!!! HE CANT FORGIVE HIM! HE’LL DESTROY EVERYTHING!!!!!!

Fight ensues, the black fairy is purified and sucked into the key, and riche collapses to the ground. Nanashi says “purification complete, met my quota, time to leave!”. Then he swears he doesn't know anything about Oscar’s black fairy: things have been tough on them lately. Noah:”So cant u just stay still??” Nanashi:”Nope! I wanted to see Emma-chan! ;P”. Dark night duo walk into the scene by chance, where they see Nanashi. The latter comments how they have given up so easily on their dream to become the most evil duo in the world; but whatever, he didn’t really mind their stupid positivism (Joe and Ace are left “!!!!”). Then he leaves.

Riche awakens some time later in one of the castle bedrooms (IDK if i said this before but the guild’s hq is called castle Edouard) after getting patched up by Walter, who pats him on the head and looks at Kuchen before stepping to the side. This prompts the eldest to speak up, apologising to Riche and promising he’ll try not to worry him too much in the future. Cuit also promises to believe in himself more, and that he’ll definitely have Oscar approve of his cooking for the Ball (cue Walter patting his head lol; every time he does it everyone always gets embarrassed and blushes. He approached Kuchen like 👁️👁️ and Kuchen goes “N-no…im fine….”). Crow, Gran and Itsuki come into the room, and they start discussing what just happened. Regardless of whether it’s the Butterfly’s work or not, they have to stop the duke before things turn violent. However, Cuit asks for 2 days of time: if there’s truly something wrong with Oscar, Cuit and his brothers want to ascertain it w their own hands.

Flashback: Cuit loses a competition because a rival chef mixed something into his dishes. Oscar steps in, saying that he ate Cuit’s dish, and that man added 25.8 grams of Bougetto (?) liquor in the sauce. The other chef defends himself: even if this is Oscar we’re talking about, he can’t treat him however he wants, he’s the chef of the yadda yadda family and blah blah blah. Oscar has no ears for someone tarnishing gourmet food. “Cuit, let’s go”. That Noble family is actually really close with the royal family, And they don’t let anyone get in their way, so Oscar’s position could be in trouble; but he doesn’t care, as he will not allow food to be degraded. He adds that if something were to happen to him, then Cuit and the others will have to take up his role.

If the black fairy is distorting Oscar’s belief, then it is up to them to do something about it; this is their gourmet pride (chapter title drop oooh). Walter will keep an eye on Oscar and let them know if he does anything suspicious, whereas Emma promises to step in in case things go south: as a guildkeeper, she wont let meisters get hurt!

Three days later, they finally get to meet Oscar to have him try the dark pot; he gives them some kind of backhanded compliments which make the group feel like he’s indirectly yelling/mad at them. However, before trying their dish, they request him to try Cuit/Riche/Kuchen’s meal first. I will not be translating the entirety of the meal the they give Oscar however: Cuit proposes a dish made with foreign vegetables, and Oscar is not happy with this decision; Cuit points out that these vegetables are not inferior in quality despite being cheaper, but they give a more homely feeling, something that is kind of important to Oscar if you read his past story. He then goes on to explain how they tried incorporating the guests’ countries of origin in the menu for the grand ball. This is a great responsibility, because it means that all dishes must be equally good, or the guests from a certain country will be displeased; it’s why Cuit wants to be the one to handle the menu: the skill of a chef is seen in these situations. After the meal, it appears that Oscar is extremely pleased. But.

“I will not let you serve this at the Grand Ball”.

Everyone’s appalled, so they just hit him with their suspicions. Oscar’s black fairy, Feld, appears. And he seems to be, extremely angry, to the point where Oscar is struggling to stand up. He directly addresses him by name, telling him to calm down (meaning he’s by now acquainted with the fairy). Navi comes out of the key, and he points out how Feld is different from all other black fairies they have met until now: instead of being violently out of control, he feels a bit weak. They explain to Oscar what the situation is and what black fairies are. Feld appeared in front of Oscar one day, and “stirred” his emotions, which he accepted as a good thing, as he, too, is driven by anger just like Feld. This basically means that the fairy has been trying to go out of control, but Oscar has been resisting through sheer willpower alone, although his body suffers from it. Emma gets ready to purify him, but Oscar refuses to let go of this anger now. Emma, ask him what in the world is he so angry about? He mysteriously tells her that if she wants to understand she has to follow him.

Fast forward a bit, Emma is accompanying Oscar to a party held at an aristocratic mansion. she doesn’t really know what’s happening plus she’s worried about messing up w her manners in such a lavish place. Oscar says:” don’t worry about the nobles, just think of them as potatoes” (lol) “but Oscar that’s disrespectful!” “Yeah, poor potatoes, sorry for comparing you to these people..” (LOLL). During the meal all the aristocrats are chatting among themselves and Oscar looks angrier and angrier although Emma doesn’t really understand why. Then, an aristocrat approaches Oscar and they start talking: the latter asks about how his chef (someone who Oscar noticed as being quite talented) was doing, and the noble replied saying that he was replaced with a chef from another noble family of chefs who are famous for producing top-quality cooks. The aristocrat keeps talking, looking down on “untalented nobodies” and whatnot. When dinner is over, Emma confesses she kind of understands him now: what most of those people enjoyed was not the good food but the title and brand that came with the chefs. Oscar goes on to say how these people eat food that is made with high-quality ingredients and praise it because of the quality of the ingredients themselves; as he says this a dark aura surrounds him. This is the disease that is currently rampant in the country: chefs’ competitiveness should be encouraged, but the people evaluating them are rotten to the core. As a result, unknown but skilled chefs are being deprived of opportunities to grow. He is enraged at the current state of the country, which is why the guild is having the Grand Ball. He simply tells her to look forward to it.

The day comes and Emma is allowed to sit next to Oscar in case the black fairy goes crazy. The dishes are brought in and everyone is enjoying the taste of them without knowing the names of the chefs and where the ingredients come from; therefore Oscar is forcing them to “enjoy the food” rather than the titles that come with it.

At the end of the night he presents the 10 chefs who prepared the entire menu to the invitees: the Dilettant aristocrats recognised them as being the unknown chefs they fired from their kitchens in favour of celebrity chefs; Oscar exposes their hypocrisy in front of the foreign guests, making them appear as fools. On the other hand, foreign guests are delighted at the idea of hiring these unknown but extremely skilled chefs. Later, Oscar finally confronts the Dilettant aristocrats, outing his ire and disgust. The aristocrats fall silent and when they leave, they are embarrassed and with red faces. Oscar delightfully laughs like a child at them. Him and Emma chitchat about everything that went on and the way Oscar had to train the chefs by making them do the dishes 300 times. As they talk, they are approached by an extremely well-dressed man and his attendant: it’s Dilettant’s king, who thanks Oscar for hitting at those nobles’ reputation in public. The country can now finally start working to meet the standards of its reputation as a country of food lovers.

Later on Emma purifies Oscar of the black fairy who now regains some kind of consciousness and he starts speaking (after he sends Evan flying with a punch). The person he used to protect once upon a time was a man who was accused of a crime he didn’t commit and who died in despair. Navi ask him what the hell he is since he wasn’t inside the key nor he was losing control. Mateo and Rive (?) come from the key, and mentioned their own experiences: they were overwhelmed by negative emotions and it is impossible for the host to maintain a sense of self. Feld doesn’t remember anything at all. However, he has a vague memory of a huge tree, which is the one Emma saw during the “purification incident” back with Bloody Lady (CH2 PT18). This seems to resonate with all black fairies present.

Emma reports the information to Crow, and they surmise that the tree might be the place where black fairies originate from. They also suppose that Eden, Emma’s father, might be there.

The next day it is officially a week since the group has arrived in the city and tomorrow they will have to leave to the next country. Before that, they are having Oscar to try the dark pots: Itsuki and Crow’s being red, whereas joe and ace’s being black. All of a sudden Rouge has also come back from whatever he was doing in the city, leaving a very perplexed Gran, and an angry Victor and Noah. Oscar tries both but the first is terrible, and the second just tastes weird (is this goldilocks?); Crow defends himself by asking if this is not the taste of rare and ancient cuisine. But no later than he speaks, Cuit walks in with a third pot, containing a golden coloured soup. Obviously it’s amazing. The DN duo says that technically the others’ rating was “terrible”, whereas theirs is “weird”, meaning they technically won the challenge. Regardless, they don’t feel as happy as they thought they would, because, as Emma points out, this is not their real dream (she says that despite them being villains, she really liked the look in their eyes). Oscar admits approaching them not for their cooking skills but for their anger. They realise that what the others are saying is right and that they are destined to fight evil with evil. Before leaving Joe turns to Emma and tells her that although he was flattered at her “love confession” (which never happened), he cannot accept her feelings yet (Emma:”i somehow got dumped!!!”).

(Some sort of flashback i think?) Rouge tells Gran how kind Emma is to everyone, even someone like him. The fact that the others consider him as family makes him a bit uncomfortable and he thinks he doesn’t really deserve it, especially since he doesn’t believe in the “ fundamentals” (?) of people. However, Gran points out, he still mindful of them which is why he doesn’t say anything about it. Rouge cannot bring himself to tell those kids that there is a traitor among us (amogus…).

The DN duo is leaving; Emma tries to inform them of something but Joe is like “no I’m sorry I can’t be with you even if you try to stop me we cannot be together. I have something to do. Blah blah blah”. The truth was that actually Cuit had invited all of them to the guild’s top famous restaurant. There, he manages to guess what everyone wants to eat specifically without them saying anything at all. Everyone pretty much starts eating like animals since Cuit’s food is so good. Even Victor, who normally speaks in a very polite and kind of effeminate way goes “BRO WHAT THE HELL THIS IS SO FUC- i mean! How delicious^^!”. Kuchen brings in some chocolates he made with the super spicy magma cacao, telling Emma that the smile on her face when eating these chocolates is the cutest and most honest until now. Oscar walks in, apologising for not being able to show his gratitude better. He notices Kuchen’s chocolates and tells him to use no additives next time, just make it 100% spicy (kuchen:”YOU’LL DIE LIKE THAT??” But of course he accepts the challenge from Oscar). Oscar then turns to Cuit, informing him that the course menu he proposed the other day is to be served to the next trilateral talks under direct request of his majesty. Oscar and Walter pretty much run away after this because after the Grand Ball happened the avalanche of work that was put off is now cascading on top of them like crazy. Cuit feels sorry that they can’t help him in any way and he wishes that they had a guild keeper, hinting at Emma. He lets her know that since Oscar went through the trouble of coming all the way here to bid farwell to them, he must’ve surely taken a liking to her.

The time to go to Woodland has come, and the moonroad has appeared without delay. Victor is to return to Grayland, and Rouge appears to be leaving as well (“the winds are calling for me! Being a wandering poet is toughhh-“ Noah:”then just fly to the ends of the world.”). He says he’s joking, there’s something he actually needs to look into, though he promises he’ll come rushing to help them when they’re in a pinch. We find out through the conversation that he has with Victor after the others leave that Rouge is actually going to Record as he has business with the federation. While the others are walking and talking to each other on the moon road, Navi appears from the key and informs Emma that the black fairy they captured in record, the one that had been asleep all along, has just woken up. Emma is engulfed by a white light and the black fairy tells her that he has awakened due to her powers of purification growing stronger. Then he disappears and when Emma returns to normal, nobody but Navi can see her. The scene cut to Testament commenting how the Awakening has started.

#ymkr #yume100 #ゆめくろ #yumekuro #otome #joseimuke #yumekuro translations #mobage #otome games #dream meister and the recollected black fairy #夢職人と忘れじの黒い妖精

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