#and how she is always performing for this imagine audience and for everyone in her life she is rarely being honest with the people she loves
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dykefever · 2 years ago
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okay in fleabag the fourth wall breaks are a metaphor for dissociation yes i will agree with that but i don’t see people talk about how it’s also her performing for an audience - she is using this imagined audience in order to feel seen and heard in a way she isn’t in her real life, a way for her to validate herself through the lens of others and when hot priest calls her out on it it’s because he is actually!!! seeing her!! and when they’re having sex it’s the first time she pushes that audience away and refuses to perform she is present in that real life moment and being seen etc by hot priest. i’d argue that the dissociation goes hand in hand with that performance like she dissociates in order to perform for an imagined audience and also i think that other interpretation of the fourth wall breaks are valid i don’t think there’s one complete and total explanation/answer as to what they mean. much like in real life our coping mechanisms are often used in response to a multitude of situations/traumas and can represent multiple things about our psyche !! anyway just wanted to share my thoughts
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usedpidemo · 3 months ago
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Cruel flower (Jo Yuri)
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“You sure you really like my dress for today?” 
For the record, this is the fifth time Yuri has asked you this question. Whether or not you disagree, your choice doesn’t matter. She’s going to show off, and for good reason.
You’re not the only one anticipating some antics on stage.
To be fair, they’re not exactly the kind of antics you’d expect, as though one makes a fool of themselves like it was part of a humiliation ritual. Yuri is much more intricate and flirty, as seen with her choice of outfit for today’s performance. It’s tasteful with a hint of sexy, yet easy on the eyes. The kind that leaves your mind questioning as to why she dresses herself like someone she’s not, even if you enjoy staring at her bewitching appearance. 
She makes your heart race in countless ways you never knew could happen.
“I mean—even if I said no, you’ve already made up your mind. So what is the point,” you tell her, covering your mouth, your gaze peering down at the garter and stocking combo completing her floral ensemble. To say they complement her would be an understatement; even by her relatively tame standards, this is a little too bold and showy for her fans.
But the thing is, it’s not her normal audience she’s performing for. Thousands of fans are lined up all over the convention floor, mainly to see their more popular favorites. Not helping matters is that she’s one of the rare handful of soloists, the number which you can count with just your fingers, which typically don’t generate as much interest as an average group. Right from the start, she’s fighting an uphill battle, and this is her one of the limited opportunities to steal everyone’s hearts and attention, especially on a bigger platform.
Yuri turns around from the mirror, having put on the finishing touches of her makeup, facing you with a dour, mocking pout. “You’re no fun.”
Indifferent, you brush her off. Her contemptuous responses are part of the package, something that encompasses your daily routine. The less you entertain her, the better and the wiser you are, especially during these more serious times. You’ve learned that you find yourself less likely to fall in danger when you don’t give Yuri even the smallest of openings.
Unfortunately, it’s a lesson you have to be reminded of more often. 
“But you gotta admit, I look really good, right?” she questions you, as if you haven’t been ogling her from the moment she presented herself to you in just her lingerie, garter and stockings. The dress is just the cherry on top of what you consider near perfection. 
It’s intentional trolling at this point.
“I don’t know,” you tell her, hiding no hint of sarcasm. “Could use a little less”—you suddenly stammer—”You know—”
“Could use a little less what, babe?” Yuri approaches you, seated on the couch, pressing her palms on your knees, smirking, plotting. The thin layer of dress sweeps forward, revealing some cleavage and her necklace. She’s all up in your face, her lips nibbling on the ridge of your ear, her neck flashing a still fresh hickey from earlier in the day, her hot breath sending chills down your spine—her favorite form of showing affection. 
If you had any less restraint, you’d take her on this very couch, rip off her clothes and fuck her on said mattress in every position imaginable. Forget the crowd, much less the fact that you’re in a backstage room, where the walls are paper thin, so much so that even the slightest sounds can be heard from the outside. No matter how you spin it, there’s always clear and present danger waiting for the most inopportune time to strike. This is how Yuri gets you: by putting you both in the most uncomfortable situations possible, career be damned. It isn’t due to a heightened sense of thrill under duress, but it’s just the way she is. Insatiable. 
As easy it would be to fold right then and there, you make it a point to keep her in check, much to her disappointment. In a way, you’re kind of her unofficial co-manager, except you just so happen to share the same bed with her.
“No,” you tell her, holding face, holding her by the wrists, rising from the couch and leading her against the makeup table. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Fuck you,” she replies, not hiding her frustration. She matches your stern glare with of her own, but she comes off as more of a spoiled child than an actual threat. There’s more charm to find than seriousness in Yuri’s cutesy features. “You really are no fun at all, asshole.”
Releasing your grip on her hands, you make a concerted effort to fix up her loose dress, then leave a peck on the cheek. All while you admire the little details that complete her look. You can’t help but kiss her softly, inadvertently calming her down. Undoubtedly, she’s pretty, but she’s even more special today. 
“It’s only a what? Thirty minute set? It’ll go by in a breeze,” you tell her, as if she hasn’t been going through the festival circuit just the other month. On her part, it feels way longer since she performed in public, and that’s in no small part to her spending all her spare time with you more than anything or anyone else—to the point of being overly attached. 
Yuri sighs, rolling her eyes, hating the notion of being away from you for more than a few minutes. She makes one last hail mary effort to lead you on by wrapping a leg around yours, but you immediately catch on and put her in place. She’s so visibly miffed, that it’s easy to feel any sort of sympathy for her, but you know this little devil is going to exploit your kindness and bury you in the process. 
“Please,” she pleads in her softest tone, ready to drop to her knees on command. “I don’t even need you to fuck me like a whore, but—please—let me suck your cock instead. Let me take a warm load down my throat and I’ll be good to go.”
Try as hard as she can, the idea passes through one ear and comes out the other. You don’t budge. Not in the slightest. 
“Please, babe—promise I’ll let you use me anyway you want.” Right on cue, Yuri sheds tears, eyes wide and bargaining. “I’ll let you tie me up and tease me with your toys like the bad girl that I am. Just give me this one thing. Please.”
Still, nothing she does changes your mind. You even toy with the fact she’s needy as hell. “Didn’t you just call me an asshole, asshole? Why would I let you suck my cock, let alone shove it anywhere near you or inside you?”
Her facade immediately disappears in place of self-defense. “Oh come on. I call you asshole all the time, asshole. Since you like that word so much, here: asshole, asshole, asshole. I bet it’s because it reminds you of how much you love using my—”
Unamused, you interrupt Yuri by backing her against the table again, imposing your superior stature over the frankly petite idol. She doesn’t look intimidated, and for good reason: you won’t do a damn thing to hurt her. Despite the clear assertion of power, it’s actually the opposite—she recognizes that you’re falling into her hand and gets off on bothering you.
“Go on. What are you gonna do? Spank my ass? I bet you’d love to do that to me now, do you?” Yuri’s chuckling, grinning wickedly through every word, knowing your attempts at punishing her only serve to derive her pleasure instead. Either way, it’s a lose-lose situation. Fold and risk your frisky relationship to the public at your expense, or only delay the inevitable and continue to be tormented at every chance she gets. The trouble never ends.
You end up backing away and leaving her alone in the room. You remember; it’s a miracle. “Just—act normal,” you tell her, sounding defeated as you open the door. 
—————
For the most part, she does. 
Yuri is a natural performer, as usual. She never really needed you to begin with. You found her like this. Any sign of weakness or doubt is virtually unrecognizable.
Being near the front has its benefits. For one, you’re merely a stone’s throw away from Yuri, meaning you don’t have to strain your eyes or constantly turn to the screen. No LED panel can truly display Yuri’s in all their glory. It also means when her earpiece randomly stops functioning, you’re a few inches away when she decides to entertain the fans with typical fanservice: giving high-fives, completing hearts, partaking in pictures, and so on. While everyone around you has their phones and lightsticks raised, you’re just watching along, basking in the moment, watching your girl do the thing she loves the most, besides doing you.
Yuri passes by your section, and immediately recognizes you on sight in the midst of the crowd. She throws a wink and a kiss in your direction—much to everyone else’s delight, but not yours. Apart from that one scene, there isn’t much fanfare or anything fanciful that you haven’t already seen from her. After only five songs, she bids farewell to the audience. 
Minutes later, you reunite with her backstage at her assigned dressing room. 
“Well well,” says Yuri, waiting by her lonesome at the makeup desk as you enter, sounding self-indulgent. “I did it, babe. Wasn’t so hard.”
Of course. Yuri can keep herself in control; she just chooses not to. It’s hardly a surprise to anyone, especially you.
“Were you expecting a cookie?” you comment, making sure her head doesn’t leave orbit. 
“Don’t be such a bitch,” she retorts, pouting her lips, irked at your remark. “Just say I did a good job. Being kind costs nothing.”
“And being an asshole also costs zero,” you retaliate, never letting up on the sarcasm. “Good job.”
“And? You’re missing one more thing.”
You raise an eyebrow, growing slightly crabby. “What? Isn’t a simple good job already enough?”
“C’mon.” Yuri steps forward with all the confidence in the world. The change of attitude in the room is sudden, abrupt. One quick shove sends you stumbling back onto the couch. Before you’re able to react, she straddles herself on your lap, having all of the leverage. “You know I gotta get my reward after every performance, babe.”
No matter where you turn, you end up back at square one: against Yuri. Her hands lead your wandering gaze toward hers. “God, Yuri, no—”
She shushes you, places a finger between your lips, shaking her head in disapproval. “I did my part. It’s only right that you have to return the favor. That’s the rules.”
“What rules?”
Yuri laughs. Shoots you this inviting, alluring look that’s asking—begging—for trouble. A perfect encapsulation of who she is whenever you’re alone together. Her fingers begin to pick through the buttons of your dress shirt, your countenance slowly unraveling as dread and danger clouds your mental functions. No amount of ignorance can save you. You’re trapped. 
There’s your answer.
As if that wasn’t enough, the finger between your lips is now replaced with hers. A kiss. Deep. Tender. Passionate. She’s engrossed in the moment, cupping your face to pull you down with her, forcing you into submission. There’s no escape. Whatever resolve you have left she gradually weakens, until you eventually close your eyes and reciprocate those feelings back at her, too. 
It’s a good thing you locked the door beforehand, as if you knew this was going to happen. 
You’re stuck in this fervent position for what feels like an eternity, when in reality, it’s only been a couple of minutes. Despite the precarious state you’re in, there’s something sincere when it comes to Yuri. Probably because she’s the only person on this planet with a face that could look innocent while clearly committing the act. Still, she’s up to no good, and she has you exactly where she wants you to be.
She pulls away from the kiss, her eyes glazed, her lips melding in the shape of a moan, even though you’re still clothed—for now. 
“Jesus, Yul, we really should—”
A second kiss interrupts your desperate plea. Yuri doesn’t want to hear any part of it. She knows what she wants. No amount of resistance will deny her this opportunity. She finishes unbuttoning the last of your shirt, slipping it off before throwing it aside, caressing your bare shoulders. All this while shaking her head. 
Pulling away from your lips again, she slips one of her dress straps down her shoulder. “I don’t fucking care. I want you now.”
Clambering off your lap, Yuri tugs at the hem of your pants, jutting your hips forward. You can only watch helplessly while she strains her lanky arms, unzipping your trousers, pulling on them again and again until they pool around your ankles and shoes. Her eyes fixate on your groin, gleaming at the welcome sight: a growing bulge beneath your boxers.
“How long have you been hard for me, hm?” She swipes at your erection a handful of times, each touch eliciting an airy groan from your lips. Biting on her lower lip, the sensation arouses her even further. “Did I dress a little too sexy for you today?”
If you could talk at that moment, you would say yes. The entire time you’ve been watching her on stage, your primary focus was her outfit over everything, including her soulful voice. As flattering as the simple but sexy ensemble was on its own, it’s even hotter in motion. It reminds you of when you first met in a similar place. Instead of thousands in attendance, it was only a handful of patrons at a small bar. And out of the dozens she could have ended the night with, it happened to be you. From the moment you laid your eyes on each other and exchanged smiles, you knew there was never going back.
You’re aimlessly pulling at strings, hoping to find a way out, a miracle. Instead, you’re digging your grave even further. The other strap falls down, pulling the rest of her dress along with it. Not of her own volition, with the culprit being your own hand. There’s nothing worth saving at this point, not even yourself. 
What a way to surrender. You haven’t answered her question formally, yet she understands what you were going to say.
Yuri leans forward, her attitude as bold as it's ever been. Despite her pretty smile, the hint of cleavage right in front of you sweeps away your gaze. Every part of her is a sight for sore eyes. She shudders, closes her eyes, slowly grinds herself against your throbbing bulge, finding your place beneath her even more suffocating. You can only sink back on the couch, moan along and let her neediness weigh you down. 
As the garment slips further down down her lithe frame, landing at the waist, you bury your head against Yuri’s neck. Romantic as it may look, it’s anything but. She keens against your ear, her nails scratching at your nape—all while you clamp down on her collarbones. Her whines sound needy, wanton, shameless. Her voice echoes beyond the four corners of this room, removing any pretense to any innocent soul passing by. Conveniently, music from the main stage is loud enough to cover your little act.
Maybe she really had it planned out all along.
While Yuri remains preoccupied by her senses betraying her, you reposition her away from you towards the table. You never let up on the passionate kisses and bite marks till her creamy, pale skin glows a deep shade of red. Then you twiddle with the zipper on her corset, sharply yanking it down, almost snapping the clasp in your haste to undress her. Fortunately, you manage to push the rest of her lingerie down to her waist, enough to where you can feel her bare figure with your hands. 
Asserting your control—something you should have had the entire time—you lay Yuri face down on the sofa, clambering yourself on top of the powerless idol. Manhandling her is as easy as breathing; she folds at the slightest push and prefers to be used as a means of personal release.
Reaching from behind, you rest a hand on her chest. You squeeze; she yelps. The feeling of her nub held between your palm while drawing out little, saccharine noises from her dirty lips scratches that sweet spot in your brain perfectly. It’s an addicting sensation you can’t get enough of. She is unable to fight back, her nails digging deep into the fabric of the couch, desperate to hang on, only to find herself going weak at the knees.
More and more, you find yourself losing control, becoming more ravenous. You quickly shed your boxers,  pushing them down as far as your knees, your struggling cock freed from its restraints. Your noises are turning more primal: less human, more animalistic, as your grip on Yuri tightens. You lay her body flat on the couch, make use of what little space is left, before digging between her legs to strip the panties beneath her skirt.
Part of you wants to slip a finger or two in there and play with her clit. It’s inconsequential, if not a small diversion from what really matters. Until you remember just how far off the beaten path you’ve already gone. If you don’t fuck her right then and there, you just might lose it.
Pressing the head of your cock along her lips, you come to a predictable conclusion: she’s soaking wet. Wet enough to raise some deep concerns. Your breaths tense up as you slowly enter and the walls pulse around you; the gap between you and her couldn’t be any narrower. 
The groan you release as you bury yourself to the hilt is worth a thousand reliefs. Nothing is as satisfying as that first entry into Yuri’s tight, suffocating pussy. Every single time. 
“Oh—fuck—” you blurt, immediately overwhelmed by the rapid surge of heat. In response, she lets out this sharp, echoey moan, stretching her head ever so slightly forward as she endures the stabbing sensation. The feeling doesn’t last long; you pull back, her walls pulsating against your cock, only to plunge right back in.
The little discomfort soon dissipates for pleasure. Yuri’s so intoxicatingly tight, so hot when you fill her with your cock. That’s why despite the uncomfortable scenarios she puts you in, you always fold, because you feel right at home in her cunt. It would be a disservice to take her like some dainty, delicate doll. And you wonder why she’s always so needy.
Spreading her thighs wider, you fuck her, slowly foregoing the comfort of a slow grind in favor of a erratic, torrid pace. Each thrust you deliver is hard, emphatic strokes, as if to prove two points: that you don’t take lightly to her antics, and that you will always overpower her. You shouldn’t be deriving any joy from this, but you’re loving every second using her as she wanted: as an outlet for your frustration. 
As for Yuri, she’s just as pathetic and helpless as always. Reduced to a heaping pile of moans and mewls. Her national position. Her favorite position. You should be wondering just how incredibly manipulative and conniving she is, getting you to act out for a little miscreant like her, when she should have known her place by now. Ultimately, there’s no point; there’s nothing that will get her to change her wicked ways, and every consequence only serves as her motivation to push you even further. 
The sounds filling the room are almost indistinguishable. Whether it’s the supposed thumping on the door or skin against skin, you don’t know. You’re twisting her dark hair around your finger, and her keen and shriek are one and the same. Meanwhile, your other hand can’t decide between her waist and her ass, both sensitive and satisfying to the touch. You’re both too engrossed in each other’s pleasure to care about anything other than the relentless collision of your bodies. At this point, you’re certain it is, in fact, a knock on the outside, but it will eventually disappear. They all do. 
Yuri is shaking, violently trembling, gripping to the couch’s handles, desperate for air. ‘More—harder—fuck me—’ she begs in repetition, every word spilling like a prayer. It’s amazing how she holds up against you. You wonder if her goal is to be seen like this—to be recognized as the fucktoy and brat she is. You can only contain her for so long; it’s only a matter of time before it blows out of proportion. That’s the thrill of the chase—to avoid being found and to escape with an inch of your life.
Your grip around her hair reaches a fever pitch, your teeth gritted and your breath heaving. You want to say you’re close, but that’s basically asking for trouble. Still, you can’t bear it any longer. “So close, Yuri. I’m gonna cum—”
“Fucking do it. Cum all over me. Inside me. Anywhere you want,” is her response, with you pressing her down on the couch out of fear any more filth from her lips will upend you quicker, when in reality, you were already in the process of falling apart. As far as vulgarity goes, it is among her tamest. You’re delaying the inevitable by only a few precious moments.
Then she cums. Unannounced, out of the blue. For all you know, she could have been screaming into the void the way her cries are muffled by the sofa.
Her juices flood your cock, almost making you snap in return. The feeling overwhelms you beyond definition; it takes every last bit of resolve not to break down right then and there. With a sharp draw from her warmth, her slick leaks from her cunt, spills down to the couch. Coating every inch of your shaft, the suffocating heat of her pussy pulls you right back in, and that final thrust sends you over the edge.
All that pent-up want and tension, unglued in an instant. 
Ignore that you let out this hoarse, powerful grunt from the depth of your lungs as you fill Yuri’s cunt with every last drop you have, as if you haven’t been fucking her multiple times a day for the last two weeks. The spillage on her skirt and dress doesn’t matter; as long as she feels every last speck of your cum inside her. You find solace on her shoulders, pushing your throbbing cock deep into her cunt over and over as you blast fleck after fleck that seemingly never ends. 
Eventually, you crash down on the other side of the couch, opposite where Yuri’s face rests. Taking a minute to catch your breath, you get a glimpse of your handiwork: your cum continuously spewing from her sopping cunt, down to the now soiled linen, the damage long-lasting, if not permanent. Had you torn the dress and skirt concealing her inner thighs, the signs wouldn’t have been any more obvious.
It takes a little longer than normal for you to gather your bearings. After all, you were straining your legs in a crowded room an hour before this little escapade. But you’ve been through worse—way worse.
When you finally regain some of your strength, you grab the still exhausted Yuri by the waist and bring her in front of the dressing room mirror. Her bare chest is in clear view, with her dress all crumpled up at the midsection; it’s going to require more than a simple fix. 
“Look what you made me do, you fucking brat,” you hiss, giving Yuri a thunderous slap on her ass. She sees it as not a punishment, but as a reward for pushing you far beyond your comfort zone.
She can barely move a muscle, but is able to respond in spaced out breaths. “Told you it was better than the bedroom.”
You respond with another spank. Then another. A few more. More than you can count. Each hit as thunderous as the clap of her cunt. You know it’s not going to stop her; she knows you can do nothing else.
Her hands cling to the desk, her breaths still heavy, while you slowly rip through the skirt, foregoing any logic. You catch a peek of even more of your handiwork, her ass burning with the same fiery red as the rest of her shapely body. 
Spreading her supple cheeks, you line your cock between her pussy and her legs, resting your head forward beside hers. Grabbing Yuri by the hair, you tilt her face down, moaning against her ear as your bodies entangle together. “Fuck you, Yuri. Sincerely, fuck you, fuck you. Fuck. You.”
With half an eye opened, you catch a glimpse of your reflection, and it’s as messy as you expect. Yuri’s mouth is spread in a deep, wide ‘O’ shape, still riding a prolonged high, while your fingers are all over her. On her breasts. In and out of her hair. The image is arousing enough that you instinctively push your bodies forward. You can feel your cock hardening again.
But right as you get into a rhythm, a knock on the door again snaps you from your shared daze. 
“Well? Bodyguard, you better go and get that,” she says with a slight smirk, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 
You throw your head back, groaning in despair. “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter, much to her delight and laughter. 
Yuri shimmies from your clasp, picking up pieces of her now ruined dress before walking to the bathroom, while you hike across the room to gather your wear. If there’s one thing about sex with her, it’s how filthy it gets. Clothes scatter everywhere, she’s loud enough to draw attention, and despite everything, it’s hot and messy in all the right ways. You end up fucking her in positions you never thought you’d ever try.
You barely make yourself presentable as you pick up the door, only to be greeted by a blonde beauty on the other side. Her dress immediately stands out; it’s simpler in both design and color (a plain black all over), yet so daring, it makes Yuri seem conservative by comparison. She knows what her best assets are and how she’ll flaunt them for all to see.
What also sticks out is her natural accent. “Hey. Don’t mind if I ask, but is Yuri around?”
With the narrowest of turns, you manage to ascertain her presence, or lack thereof. “You barely missed her, Somi. She just left.”
“Did she tell you where she went?”
“No idea.” 
Somi pouts. It’s a familiar look. “But I just heard her voice here. It was really loud!” 
“You just gotta text her. I seriously don’t know where she went off.”
Her eyes wander down to your ragged appearance, a stark contrast to your blunt tone. The loose belt, the partially unbuttoned shirt, the rolled up sleeves of varying folds. It’s a disaster of epic proportions, and you can barely hold it together. “You sure nothing’s happened in there?” she asks, hiding the littlest of grins. “You look kinda rough.”
“I’ll be fine. Just had to deal with”—you pause, a moment stretched out longer than it should have any right being—“some stuff.”
“Right.” Her eyes peek into the back, even with your best efforts to gently block her view, only to find nothing and no one. She considers her options, before saying, “Surely I can just wait till she comes back? I mean, you’re her bodyguard—”
“I don’t think that’s a great idea.” You shut her down immediately. “When she returns, I’ll let her know you were looking for her.”
There’s that trick again: a loose strap sliding down her shoulder. Her hand is glued to the doorpost, unwilling to move, expression undeterred. “I’ll just wait here. We still have a final goodbye to do for the fans. Don’t worry. I just really need to talk to her.”
Her friendly smile turns into a mischievous grin.
It’s deja vu.
—————
The goodbye never comes. 
Some poor random idol has to take Somi’s MC job at the eleventh hour because she’s nowhere to be found. Despite security’s best efforts, she couldn’t be seen, and neither is Jo Yuri, for the last sighting of the two is them leaving the venue by themselves, one after the other. Apart from a handful of disappointed fans, their absence can be hardly felt by everyone else. 
Not a soul knows where they went—and they never will find out, nor will they ever care. Only you may have the smallest of clues, for you are buried between two pairs of legs, preoccupied with eating out pussy while your hands squeeze on a couple sets of breasts in the cover of a hotel room.
—————
(A/N: HE HAS RISEN, BABYGIRL! *IRIS INTENSIFIES*)
(For real, what a trip these last two months have been. I'm feeling conflicted about it all. I could easily have published like five to seven fics in that time period, but no! Life gets in the way sometimes, and let's just say it gave me roadworks that stretched on for miles on end. I already told you about the flu/cough arc, and it's all in the past now. Like I said, college has started up for me, and this could be my final academic year before I have to deal with thesis/internship shit before eventually graduating, so I really am on borrowed time. I really should have used my time better when I was healthy, but it is what it is.)
(I really wish this was longer, considering the gap between the last fic. Writing these past two months has been hell, like I had writers' block on steroids, if that even is a thing. I fucking scrapped two fics, including one that was 7000 words in before I made the executive decision to restart the entire work from scratch. I don't know. I'm very perfectionist about the process. Writing is hard, man. Everyone's been killing it lately (including some incredible returns) and I don't know where my place belongs in this. But what matters is that you've been waiting for me and giving me best wishes during some really challenging times. With only four months left to go, let's finish the year on a high. Got nothing else meaningful to say, Yuri's KCON outfit is just really fucking hot. This would feel wrong if I didn't mention Box somewhere, so shoutout's to them XD Thank you for reading!)
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serpentandlily · 1 year ago
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Mystique - Azriel x Reader
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Mystique - Azriel x Reader
Summary: When the whole family is dragged to the new ballet show in Velaris, Mystique, Azriel never imagined a mating bond snapping into place...but as soon as she stepped on stage, he knew his life was about to change forever.
Warnings: mention of strict dieting of a dancer
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Going to see a ballet show was not how Azriel planned to spend his Saturday night, or any night really. Arts and theater were not something he was usually interested in. But Feyre had begged the whole family to go, claiming she had bought a private booth in the gallery for them to watch their opening night show. 
Elain had been the first to agree, so he followed along. If only to spend some time with her, to watch her face light up as she watched the performance. 
Mystique. That was the name of the show they were seeing tonight. He had no idea what it was about or what to expect. But he didn’t care. Not as he snagged the seat next to Elain and brushed his fingers against hers as she gave him a secret smile. 
The lights had dimmed and the audience fell quiet. It was a full house tonight, no seat below in the orchestra empty. Even the other private booths in the gallery were filled with rich nobles. 
He understood the name of the ballet once it started. All the dancers were wearing masquerade masks. That was about the only interesting thing about it. His eyes flickered from the stage to Elain every so often, more enthralled with her than the dancers. 
But then she came on stage. The main dancer partnered with some male. Her costume was a light pink, bejeweled with gems and flowers, with a tutu that showed off her long legs. It was the gleam of the jewels that had caught his attention, shining brightly in the faelights. 
And then his eyes had drifted up, to the pink mask that matched the costume and the dancer beneath it. 
He knew she was special the moment he laid eyes on her. Not because of the elegant, graceful way she moved on stage, or how she seemed to have captured the rapt attention of the audience. No, she was special because she was her. 
His eyes didn’t leave her figure after that. Constantly following her movements as she danced around the stage alongside the male and the other dancers, always standing out. 
When the show ended and the performers came out for applause and shouts from the house, he knew his life was about to change forever.
Because when she came out holding hands with her partner, bowing before the crowd masks off, a gold thread from his chest unraveled and the mating bond snapped into place. 
If it wasn’t for his years of training, of all the time he perfected his craft as the spymaster, he wouldn’t have been able to keep such a cool demeanor. He gave no indication to his family, said nothing as the dancers disappeared behind the curtains and everyone rose to leave.
“That was beautiful!” Elain chirped from next to him and he almost jumped. He had forgotten she was there. 
All he could think about was her. The dancer. His mate. His beautiful, beautiful mate. 
꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 
Opening night had been a success and the second show had gone off without a hitch as well. Your legs and feet were so sore as you made your way back to the dressing rooms with the other gaggle of girls, already yanking the pins out of your hair. 
You rubbed at your scalp, soothing the tightness from the bun your hair had been in, as you walked up to your mirror on the long vanity table. You paused for a moment at the sight of a single rose lying beneath the mirror on the table. That had definitely not been there at the beginning of the show tonight.
You picked it up, twirling the stem in your fingers. The faintest scent still clinging to it was foreign from the sweet smell of rose. A hint of cedar and night-chilled mist, a very masculine smell. 
“What’s that?” your friend, Lena, asked, peering over your shoulder at the rose in your hand. 
“I’m not sure,” you mumbled.  
“Oooohhh,” some of the girls around you giggled and your cheeks turned pink at all the attention. “Are you hiding a male from us, y/n?”
You shook your head. “No, no. It must’ve been for one of the other girls. Probably didn’t know which mirror was hers.”
Your dismissal had the other girls turning back around, no longer interested now that there was no gossip to be shared. You wished you knew who the rose was for so you could give it to her but there was no note or anything—just that faint smell. 
The next night you were met with another rose beneath your mirror. You frowned as all the girls giggled behind you. Had the male still not realized his girlfriend had never gotten his rose?
“I think you might have a secret admirer,” Lena said, grinning at you.
“I don’t think so. Maybe we should all label our mirrors,” you suggested. “I’d hate for these roses to keep going to the wrong girl.”
“I think Lena is right,” one of the other girls said. “I think y/n has a secret admirer!”
You rolled your eyes, plopping down in your chair to start the long process of ripping the pins from your hair and taking off your stage make-up. “How would they even know where I sat? And a stranger would never be allowed back here.”
“Let’s do what you said then and write our names on the mirrors. Then we can find out who’s the true owner of the roses,” Lena said. She pulled out a tube of lipstick and wrote her name on the corner of the mirror before spreading the lipstick on her lips and kissing the spot she had just signed.
She handed the tube of lipstick over to you and you laughed, doing the same as her. 
꒰ა❤︎໒꒱
"Alright, it's official. Y/n has a secret admirer!"
Your mouth dropped open as the group of girls giggling around your mirror parted and you saw another red rose on the vanity. You picked it up carefully, glancing up at your mirror to make sure your name was still written there.
The girls around you were still giggling, some making kissy noises as your cheeks lit up with embarrassment. That scent was clinging to the rose, the cedar and night-chilled mist. You took a small inhale, finding the smell to be so tantalizing. 
"Any idea who it could be?" Lena asked from beside you.
You shook your head. "No, it's not like I've had time to go out between rehearsals and the show. I haven't met anyone new in the past few months."
It was true. Your mother, one of the ballet teachers here in Velaris, kept you on a tight leash. Between classes, rehearsals and show nights, you didn't go out. Mother always said anything else was a distraction and that ballet involved sacrifices if you wanted to be a principal dancer. A role you had finally landed this season, which meant you were even more busy.
Besides, you hadn't ever been with a male like that. You had barely just turned twenty and had spent your whole childhood in ballet studios with your mother. The males that were part of those classes usually swung for the other team and the few that were into girls were usually snatched up quickly by the others. 
"How do you think he's even getting into the dressing rooms?" you mumbled to Lena, who shrugged before a mischievous grin spread on her face.
"Maybe we should ask one of the understudies to hang around here during the next show so they can catch him in the act. I'm dying to know who it is," she said.
"Not a bad idea," one of the other girls chimed in. 
"I’ll ask Helena. She's still nursing her sore ankle from her fall,” you replied, placing the rose into your satchel to take home. Pretty soon you’d have a whole bouquet.
꒰ა❤︎໒꒱
“No one?! But how is that even possible?”
You stared at the new rose on the vanity before you. Helena had stalked out the dressing room but she claimed no one had ever entered.
“I don’t know, but I’m telling you, no one came in here,” Helena said back to Lena.
“And you stayed in here the whole time?”
Helena rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, I stepped out at one point to talk to Nicholas but I swear, my eyes were on the door the whole time! No one went in or came out!”
“Maybe they winnowed?” One of the girls suggested.
You shook your head. “This place is warded from that. Set up by our High Lord himself. There’s no way someone could break through those.”
“Perhaps we have a phantom on our hands,” one of the other girls laughed. “A romantic with a crush on y/n.”
All the girls fell into a fit of giggles as your cheeks turned bright red. You scowled at them, feeling a little embarrassed. 
Maybe someone was pulling a prank on you? But who would do that? You didn’t think any of the girls would be that cruel but…
Your mind was not going to rest until you found out who was putting these roses here. 
꒰ა❤︎໒꒱
The next day you were rushing through the very busy streets of Velaris, trying to get to the ballet studio. You had slept in on accident and you were going to be late for rehearsal, something that might lead to your understudy taking over your role. Ballet teachers were strict like that, would see being late as a lack of self discipline and an uncaring attitude.
You sprinted around a corner only to smack right into the chest of someone. You let out a gasp, your ballet bag falling to the floor along with your folder full of sheet music for the pianist. 
“Watch where you’re going!” The Fae you had run into hissed, stepping over the strewn papers on the floor.
You were definitely going to be late now. You bit your lip, trying to fight back tears as you bent down and started to collect everything. You were so in your head that you didn’t notice the person kneeling in front of you until they were holding out a stack of the music sheets for you. 
“Thank you so much!” You said quickly, grabbing the papers and looking up to see who had stopped to help you.
Your eyes widened at the sight of the most beautiful male you had ever laid eyes on. His piercing hazel eyes bore into yours, his dark hair brushing against his forehead as he looked down at you, despite both of you kneeling on the ground. Giant wings sprouted from his back, hiding the sight of the bustling crowd. 
“Are you okay?” 
His voice was dark, just like the shadows that were now curling around his shoulders. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized who he was. The shadowsinger. One of the fae in Rhysand’s inner court. 
You cleared your throat when you realized you had been staring at him for a minute too long, your cheeks turning pink.
You shoved the papers back into the folder and grabbed your bag off the ground, standing back up. “Yes, thank you, I’m fine. It was my fault anyways. I was rushing because I’m late for rehearsal and my mother is going to kill me if I lose my role and—”
You shut your mouth as you realized you had started rambling. To his credit, Azriel didn’t seem annoyed. No, he looked more concerned as he stared down at you and Gods, now you were realizing how tall he was. 
“Sorry, I’m rambling. I’m y/n,” you said, hugging your folder against your chest. “You’re Azriel, right, the spymaster?”
He nodded in answer, his shadows dancing on his shoulders. 
“Would you like me to take you wherever it is you need to go? I can get you there faster.”
You were still mesmerized by his elegant beauty; he was so devastating to look at. You hadn’t even heard a word he had just said. Gods, you were absolutely embarrassing yourself. “Huh?”
He seemed amused now, faint color on his cheeks. “I asked if you would like me to take you wherever you need to go. My shadows let me travel faster than most fae.”
“Oh please, if you could! I just need to get to the ballet studio.”
You didn’t have time to deny his request, didn’t think twice of it through the panic of running late. He held out his arm for you and you placed your hand in the crevice of his elbow. His shadows surrounded you both until you were in complete darkness. 
It was a different feeling than winnowing, something you still had yet to learn how to do. But the feeling of traveling through Azriel’s shadows was slightly calming. 
Not a second later, the two of you appeared in front of the ballet studio, saving you the ten minute walk. You let out a breath of relief knowing that you weren’t going to be late anymore.
“Thank you so much! You’re a lifesaver!” you chimed, untangling your arm from his. 
He gave you a small dip of the head when suddenly a familiar scent washed over you. It took you a second to place it but…No, it couldn’t be, right? It wasn’t the same smell as the one that lingered on the roses?
But that cedar and night-chilled mist smell was unmistakable.
Azriel was disappearing in a swarm of shadows when you waved a hand at him, shouting at him to wait so you could ask him about the roses but he vanished from view, leaving you standing on the side of the street alone with a million questions running through your head.
꒰ა❤︎໒꒱
Another week went by and still every night after the show, a rose was waiting for you at your vanity. The same scent of cedar and night-chilled mist still faintly clinging to them. You hadn’t seen Azriel again since that day and part of you was certain you had mistakenly thought he smelled like the mysterious stranger leaving you roses. 
You were stretching your feet out, getting ready to do your warm-up before the show when the Head Teacher walked in, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention.
“Listen up, girls!” she shouted so everyone could hear her. “I have an important announcement to make. The High Lady loved our show so much she’s inviting the entirety of the Royal Ballet to a dinner at The House of Wind to celebrate our hard work. This is an honor and I expect you all to treat it as such. Next rehearsal, you all need to bring a dress that you plan to wear to the dinner so they can be approved by me. Now, back to work, girls!” 
As soon as she left the room, the chattering began. Everyone was excited about the news, mostly to have an excuse to dress up but your thoughts were stuck on the shadowsinger, at the chance to see him again and as weird as it sounded, see if his scent matched the stranger who was leaving you roses. 
꒰ა❤︎໒꒱
You stared at yourself in the mirror, twirling around. Your mother had picked your dress like the controlling person she was, but for once, you actually liked her choice. It was a light pink gown, with a long A line tulle skirt and a corseted bodice with off the shoulder straps. The fabric was covered with stars that shined like diamonds and some pearl detailing. 
“Come, y/n,” your mother called out from the living room of the apartment you both lived in. “We’re going to be late if we don’t leave now.” 
You met the rest of the girls at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the House of Wind. The High Lord and Lady had assured you guys that transportation up to the House would be provided. The girls were all giggling with anticipation, gossiping together about what to expect. 
Four winged figures swept down in front of your group. The High Lord was one of them, dressed finely in all black with his huge wings held high behind him. The High Lady was next to him, dressed in dark blue harem pants with a matching crop top, both decorated with sparkling jewels. The General, Cassian, stood behind them wearing his Illyrian leathers, arms crossed with a friendly smile on his face.
And lastly, the Spymaster. He stood next to his fellow Illyrian, also in his leathers, and looked just as devastatingly beautiful as that day he had taken you to the ballet studio. His wings were giant, even more so than the other three, making him look like a dark angel. Your cheeks turned pink as his gaze met yours and you bit your lip, looking away. 
“Ladies,” the High Lord purred in greeting. “We are pleased that you accepted our invitation. The House of Wind is warded against winnowing, so we are here to fly you up. It is a short flight, but if any of you are uncomfortable with the idea, we will try to accommodate you.” 
You watched as the girls exchanged looks with each other, giggling and turning a bit red at the idea. You found your eyes going back to the shadowsinger, jolting as you realized he was still staring at you. Something jumped in your chest, causing your pulse to spike. 
“Now, who wants to be the first to go?” The High Lord stepped forward and held out his hand. 
Lena winked at you and was the first to volunteer. The High Lady also held out her hand with a smile. “I can also fly some of you up. I promise I’m just as strong as the boys.” 
Slowly, one by one, the girls from your company paired with the four winged faes, letting them fly them up to the House. It was a quick process; Rhysand hadn’t lied when he said it was a short flight. You hung around in the back of the group, feeling a bit nervous as you watched them disappear into the sky each time. 
You had never been that high up in the air before, a bit of anxiety curling in your stomach. 
“Lady,” the General was in front of you now and you realized you were one of the only girls left to go. “Are you ready to be flown up?”
He held out a hand to you but you bit your lip, looking up at the House of Wind again. “I-I’m just a bit nervous.” 
“It’ll be over quick, I promise,” he grinned, trying to settle your nerves. 
You hesitated again and suddenly the Spymaster was there, gently nudging his brother to the side. Cassian glanced at him in question. 
“I’ll take her, Cass,” Azriel said, looking at you. Something about his hazel eyes had your shoulders falling. “I can use my shadows so she doesn’t have to fly.” 
That seemed like enough of an explanation for Cassian because he stepped aside and moved on to the next girl who was still waiting. 
“Your shadows can get past the wards?” you asked, curiously. You glanced at the shadows that seemed to be dancing around his shoulders. 
“Yes, they can,” he answered simply. Azriel held out his arm to you, just as he had that day. You took it gently and waited for the shadows to cover you.
If his shadows could get past the wards of one of the High Lord’s residences, then they could absolutely get past the ones around the theater’s dressing rooms. Which could mean he really was the stranger leaving you roses. 
“I just want you to know I didn’t want to fly not because your wings scare me but because of the height,” you said, feeling the need to make that clear. Azriel glanced down at you with an unreadable expression and you suddenly felt even more nervous. “In fact, I think your wings are quite beautiful and I would never—”
You closed your mouth sharply, realizing that you were both rambling again and also that you guys were now in the dining room, where everyone else was taking a seat. You blushed and stepped away from him. “Thank you.”
He dipped his head and gestured towards the dining table without a word. You gave him a nervous smile as you scurried past him and to the seat next to where your mother was sitting, already saving you a chair. As you passed by him, you were met with that scent again. The cedar and night-chilled mist. 
This time it was so unmistakable that you whirled around to look at him. But he had disappeared already, likely helping the remaining girls down below. You let out a sigh and continued on your way to your seat. 
When everyone was accounted for, Azriel slid into the seat across from you and you had to keep your eyes glued to your plate to stop yourself from blatantly staring at him. Should you find a moment to ask him about the roses? Should you let him come to you? Or maybe he had been leaving the roses for you as a favor for a friend? That theory almost made more sense because the idea of the shadowsinger leaving you roses seemed so far-fetched. 
All throughout dinner you managed to sneak glances at Azriel as you ate. You joined in the conversations around you but noticed that the shadowsinger didn’t talk that much, seeming much more content in just observing. 
Once everyone seemed done with dinner, the High Lord snapped his fingers and it was all replaced by a huge spread of different desserts. Cakes, pastries, custards, tarts. Everything you could imagine. You didn’t get to indulge in sweets much, your mother was strict about your diet to keep you in shape as a dancer, so your eyes lit up at the sight. 
You started to reach for the closest thing to you, a tiny fruit tart, but your mother slapped your hand with a hiss under her breath, “You’ve had enough to eat tonight. You know the rule about sweets.”
Your brows furrowed, upset. You placed your hands on your lap under the table, nodding. “Sorry, mother.” 
She pressed her lips together and placed her napkin on her own empty plate. Your eyes lingered on what looked like a peach pie, longingly. You felt a ping of envy as you watched all the other girls trying everything. 
“You should try the pie.” Azriel’s voice had your head whipping up and his eyes connected with yours. “It’s the High Lady’s favorite.”
You glanced at your mother, opening your mouth to politely decline but she cut you off. 
“Well, go on,” she said, nodding towards the pie. “Don’t insult them by not eating any.” 
You ground your teeth together, turning a bit pink. As if she hadn’t been the one to literally stop you from having any just a second ago. You looked back at Azriel, noting the way a muscle in his jaw clenched, and nodded your head. 
“I will, thank you,” you said, eagerly taking a slice of the pie. 
It was delectable and you nearly moaned as you ate it. A small smile lit up your face as you tried it. 
“The High Lady has good taste,” you said to Azriel, who was still staring at you. “The pie is delicious.” 
He gave you the smallest of smiles and it warmed something in your chest. 
Once everyone was finished eating, the High Lord cleared the table and moved everyone towards the large sitting room. There were some servants walking around with champagne and wine, which kept the party going steady. It was exciting to be able to socialize like this and you were having a good time, especially now that you didn’t have to be glued to your mother’s side. 
Your eyes roamed the room, trying to find the shadowsinger. The glass of champagne you had made you feel a bit more brave. You wanted to talk to him, wanted to ask him about the roses. It took you a minute of walking around to finally catch sight of him. He was resting against the railing outside on one of the many balconies. You glanced around, making sure no one was watching you, before you stepped outside.
He didn’t turn to look at you, not even as the door shut behind you, cutting off the noise that came from inside. It was like he already knew who had stepped out. You fiddled with your fingers, staring at his back. Some of the liquid courage was chased away by the cold breeze, but you refused to back down now that you were out here. 
“You are the one who has been leaving me roses every night,” you said, quietly, walking towards him. 
“I am,” he answered as you slid up next to him, grabbing the railing to keep your hands from shaking. 
You were surprised at how quickly he admitted it. You were silent for a moment, staring at his profile. Under the moonlight, he was truly a vision to be seen. Your breath caught in your throat when he finally looked at you. 
“I apologize if it has made you uncomfortable,” he said, his shadows seemed to hide behind his wings as if they were scared of what your response might be. 
“It hasn’t,” you replied, gently. You gave him a soft smile. “They are quite beautiful. But I must ask why.” 
His shadows eased, cascading down his shoulders. His lips twitched, amused by your question. 
“I cannot lie to you,” Azriel said, his voice low and dark like his shadows. It sent a shiver down your spine. “I find you very beautiful, y/n. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since I watched your show.”
Your eyes widened, your cheeks turning bright red. You hadn’t been expecting him to be so forthcoming. You hadn’t had much experience with males, so you fumbled with what to say back.
“Oh,” you squeaked out. 
That only seemed to amuse him even more. 
“Has no one told you that before?”
“Perhaps not quite so… candidly.” 
His lips twitched and you felt that spark in your chest again. He shook his head a bit, tousling his hair as he turned his body fully towards you, still leaning on the railing. 
“Well, now that my identity has been exposed,” Azriel said. “May I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?” 
“Y-yes,” you managed to stutter out, butterflies exploding in your stomach. Never in your dreams would you have imagined being courted by the Night Court’s spymaster. 
He smiled this time and the sight of it almost knocked you off your feet. 
“Good,” he said, then his hand flicked into his shadows and he pulled out a single, red rose. “For you. Since I wasn’t able to leave one tonight.”
Your heart was thumping in your chest as you reached out and took the flower from his hands. He dipped his head at you before disappearing into his shadows, leaving you alone on the balcony, twirling the rose in your hand with red cheeks and a warm feeling in your heart. 
꒰ა❤︎໒꒱
A month had passed since that night on the balcony. Azriel had continued leaving you roses after each show, something the girls all cooed over. You had also found out that he had charmed them to make sure they never died. So now you had a beautiful bouquet of never-ending roses in a vase on your vanity in the dressing room and even one in your room at home. 
Your first date went very well. You were surprised by how much the two of you had in common. And soon he had taken you on a second, a third, a fourth…and so on. 
You found yourself falling for him….hard. He was different around you than he was with most others. More talkative, more charming and funny. His wit never failed to impress you. 
Your mother wasn’t very pleased at first, especially since you hadn’t consulted her before agreeing to that first date. But once she found out it was Azriel who had asked you, she seemed pleased considering he was a high-ranking member of your court. You hated how superficial your mother was, but was happy she didn’t try to prevent you from seeing him. 
You hadn’t told him just how inexperienced you were, but he was a polite and kind male. He hadn’t even tried to kiss you yet. It was like he knew your hesitations and the need to take things slow with you despite you ever telling him that. But then again, he seemed to know everything you felt, at all times. Sometimes you even wondered if he was a daemati like the High Lord, but he had only laughed when you accused him of it. 
Today, Azriel had taken you out for some coffee and a small lunch after your morning rehearsal. Now the two of you were pushing through the bustling crowds on the streets, taking in the sights of the city. Your eyes lingered on a flower shop you passed by often, at the lovely moonflowers they had on display outside. 
Azriel noticed what had drawn your attention and pulled you over to the shop. You took a sniff of the moonflowers, basking in their sweet scent. “So beautiful.” 
“Would you like one?” Azriel asked in that voice of his that still sent shivers down your spine. 
You smiled up at him, nodding your head. 
“Azriel?”
You pulled your eyes away from him to look at the person who had just called out his name. The High Lady’s sister stood on the small steps leading up into the shop, a large pot in her arms and a bag full of seeds. 
Her doe eyes flickered between you and Azriel, until they dropped to something below. You followed her gaze to look at your conjoined hands. You quickly let go, face turning a bit pink. You had no idea why you suddenly felt as though you had been caught doing something wrong. 
“Hello Elain,” Azriel said, his voice polite but flat. 
She studied him and then turned that gaze on you, her eyes narrowing a bit. You looked between her and Azriel, not really sure what was going on.
“Oh, you’re that ballerina,” she said. “I remember you, from the show.”
“This is y/n. She is my…” He paused and you shifted from foot to foot. “She is my…friend.”
Friend.
His Friend.
Something about that sentence made your heart crack into two. A weird, unpleasant feeling curled in your stomach and your smile dropped.
Friends.
Elain seemed to ignore your presence, her gaze still stuck on Azriel. “I haven’t seen you in three weeks. Where have you been?”
Azriel went to answer but you tuned the conversation out, your thoughts whirling in your mind. Friends. He said you were his friend. 
Were…were you not something more? 
Had you completely misjudged his intentions? 
Or maybe he was tired of waiting for you to be ready for more? 
Maybe he was like all the males your mother warned you about. Only interested in females if they knew they could get sex out of it. 
Your heart dropped into your stomach, your breath catching in your throat. Suddenly, being here with him seemed so suffocating. Especially as he stood talking to some other girl that clearly knew him…clearly had feelings for him. 
You felt like you were going to vomit. You needed to leave. Needed to catch your breath. 
“Sorry to interrupt,” you managed to get out, causing the two of them to look at you. “I’m just going to go look in the shop while you guys catch up.” 
You darted away before either of them could say anything, only letting out a breath when the door closed behind you.  You rushed through the aisles, past the shopkeeper who was busy with another customer, until you spotted the door along the back wall. You slipped through it, into the small alleyway behind the shop. 
You felt bad for ditching Azriel but he had just crushed your heart, even if he didn’t know he had it. You wiped at a tear that spilled from your eye, almost laughing at how awful you felt. You had only known him for a short period of time. Maybe it was never his intention to make you fall for him, but you did and what had been a beautiful, all-consuming joy in your chest was now suddenly an ache that made it hard to even breath. 
You walked down the alleyway until you were back in the streets, sweeping through the crowd as quickly as you could to make it back to your apartment. You just wanted to get home. Just get home and then you could wallow in your own self-pity. Could cry as much as you wanted. 
The crowd thinned out the closer you got to the residential area until the street was empty. 
You let out a sigh, wiping yet another tear, just as your apartment building came into view. You hoisted your dance bag further up your shoulder and began the last few feet home. But a flapping of wings above you made you still, your heart lurching in your chest. 
Azriel landed in front of you with a small thud, his brows furrowed with confusion and his eyes unreadable. In his hand, he held a small bunching of moonflowers. 
“Y/n? Why did you leave like that?” he asked. 
You bit your lip, looking away from his face.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing your chin and turning your face back to him. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Did something happen?” 
You wiped at your tears, frustrated that you couldn’t keep it together long enough to make him leave. You shook your head, staring at the ground. “No, nothing happened. I-I just don’t…feel good.” 
Azriel studied you, his thumb swiping your cheek. You hated how much the small gesture soothed you. 
“Don’t lie to me,” he said. “I know something upset you. I can feel it. What happened? Please, tell me.” 
“It’s n-nothing,” you stuttered. 
“Please,” he repeated, his arms falling limp at his sides. “It pains me to see you cry. What happened? You can tell me.”
You looked away from him again, rubbing your arm in discomfort. “It’s stupid. Seriously, Azriel, I’m fine. Just…just leave. Please.” 
He stood up fully, his wings stretching out behind him. He crossed his arms, his expression stern. “No, I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me what’s wrong. Did I…Did I do something?” 
Another tear slipped down your cheek and you took a deep breath. “You called me your friend.”
Azriel blinked a few times. “What?”
“To that girl you were talking to. The one you clearly have some sort of history with,” you said, begrudgingly. “You told her I was your friend and I thought…well, maybe I’m an idiot. But I thought we were more than that.” 
Realization dawned over Azriel’s face and then to your surprise, the tension in his body dropped and he let out a small laugh. Your eyes narrowed at him. Was he truly going to laugh in your face after your admittance of feelings for him?
“I don’t understand what’s so funny. You’ve been taking me out on dates, leaving me roses. What else was I supposed to think—”
“No, it’s not funny,” Azriel cut you off, but he was still smiling which only pissed you off. “I mean, it is. Just not in the way you’re thinking.” 
More tears slipped down your cheeks and Azriel lurched forward, placing a hand on the side of your face. “Don’t cry, please. Let me explain. You're right, y/n, you are not my friend. You are so much more than that. You have been since the day I laid eyes on you. You consume my every single thought, y/n, truly. I am relieved to hear that you share my feelings. You have no idea how much I’ve prayed to the Mother that you would feel for me, what I feel for you.”
You took a moment to fully soak in his words, the pressure in your chest easing a bit. 
“Then why did you call me your friend? Who was that girl to you?”
“She’s no one, I promise you that,” he said, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “And I called you my friend because I almost slipped up and called you my—”
He stopped suddenly and you looked up at him in questions. “Called me your what?” 
It was his turn to let out a long breath, his cheeks coloring. “My mate. My mate, y/n. You are my mate.”
Your eyes went wide, your heart frantically beating in your chest. Mate? You were his mate?
Something snapped in you then. Something that had been with you since the moment you could remember, unraveled in your chest. Your mouth dropped open as a gold thread shot out between the two of you, linking you together. You looked back up at him, at those beautiful hazel eyes that were full of joy, love and apprehension. Such vulnerability that you weren’t used to when it came to the shadowsinger. 
“Mate,” you whispered. “You’re my…mate.”
He nodded, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours, waiting for your reaction. That warm feeling in your chest spread throughout your whole body and you couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed on your face. 
Mate. 
Azriel was your mate!
You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him into a crushing hug. Azriel let out a breath of relief, his arms grabbing you around the waist and pulling you even closer. It felt so right being in his arms. Your heart sang at your connection, at the feeling he sent down the bond. 
Everything made sense now. The way he was able to always know how you were feeling, the accelerated feelings between the two of you, how right it felt to be with him—like he had been made for you and you for him. 
He pulled back, holding you at arm's length so he could stare down at you. 
“I have wanted you from the minute I saw you, even before the bond snapped into place,” Azriel said. “I have been searching for you my whole life, y/n. I never thought I would be blessed with a mate, and especially not you. You are so beautiful and so much more than I was expecting. There will be no one else, even if you decide you don’t want this bond. All I see is you, all I want is you. I’m sorry I made you doubt that, even for a second.” 
“I want it! Of course I want it, Azriel!” You were smiling so hard, your cheeks were beginning to ache. “I…I am already falling in love with you and it has only been a month. I can’t even imagine what a lifetime might bring us.”
Azriel was smiling now too, a rare sight that had the bond in your chest glowing. He rested his forehead against yours, shutting his eyes. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I will thank the Mother every single day I get to call you mine.”
You placed a hand on his chest, smiling up at him as he opened his eyes again to stare at you. Butterflies swarmed your stomach, your heart was pounding drums in your chest. 
You needed him so much closer now. You needed to hold him, to kiss him, to hear him call you his. You were ready for that next step, ready to jump right into it. 
“Kiss me,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering to his lips. “Please.”
Azriel let out a small growl. “Do you mean it?”
You nodded, shyly, staring up at him from under your lashes. 
Azriel didn’t waste one more second, he leaned in and captured your lips with his. His lips were softer than you imagined, warm and tantalizing. The world seemed to fade away as you shared your first kiss with him, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind buzzing with need. 
His kiss was soft and tender, making you feel at ease with him. His arm wrapped around your waist and he yanked you even closer, deepening the kiss. Time slowed down. The bond between the two of you glowed. 
Finally, Azriel pulled back, locking eyes with you. He held up the moonflowers he was still holding, letting you take them as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.
“Flowers for the pretty lady,” he teased, causing you to giggle. 
He was still holding you around the waist, his other hand now slipping up into your hair. His hard body was pressed against yours, the flowers nearly crushed. He kissed you again and you felt it then, the promise he was making. 
You were his mate. 
And he would make sure you were his to have and to hold for the rest of eternity.
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finalgilmoregirl · 1 year ago
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your newest mike fic has me dead on the floor omg. can you please write something with grumpy mike and his sunshine reader?
a/n : i love this concept it’s such a classic, leans towards fem!reader but no she/her pronouns used, no use of y/n, lots of fluff and a smidge of angst
☆ moments in grumpy!mike x sunshine!readers relationship :
1 ౨ৎ putting on performances with abby. for a child her age, an active imagination is a given. however with the kinds of things she has experienced in her life, the possibilities are truly endless. it's not uncommon for mike to come home and see that the living room has essentially been transformed into a broadway set. and even though he's often coming home from a long shift, exhaustion be damned, you and abby still sometimes manage to wrangle him into the worlds you've created.
if you and abby are the knights of opposing royal courts, he is the jester. if you two are witches, he is the evil henchman. if you're competing fighters, he's the referee. if you two are ballerinas, he is the judge (and he always chooses you as the winner).
but no matter how many times you and abby tell him that he has to do the voices too, he still won't learn. he's essentially just an audience member of your theatrics, sitting on the ground in whatever costume one of you have placed on his shoulders and simply trying to fathom how to two people can have so much energy at the end of the day.
2 ౨ৎ grumpy!mike is your own personal bodyguard. although your sunny aura is extremely welcoming on its own, the constant frown on his face is enough of a signal for a person to turn and walk the other way the moment they notice him next to you.
he's often uncomfortable in public, too aware of his surroundings and overanalyzing everyone's actions. this results in his having a hand on you at all times to calm his nerves, whether that be with your hands clasped together, his hand on your waist or his arm around your shoulder. at first glance the two of you could look like complete strangers that just happen to be in close proximity to each other, but the second mike turns to look at you and his expression softens, it's obvious the two of you are in love.
3 ౨ৎ for the first few weeks of you and mike getting to know each other, he’d never really smiled. sure, he was always kind and polite but the most he would give to express joy was the raise of his eyebrows and the tiniest bit of an amused smirk. so of course when you had been in the middle of recounting a story and mike had laughed, smiling with all of his perfect teeth on display, you were pleasantly shocked.
"so that's what that looks like." you grinned at him, earning a tilt of his head in return.
"what does what look like?" he asked.
"your smile." mike was quick to blush, coughing and looking down for a moment to try and regain his original composure, but before he could feel too embarrassed you continued, "i like it, you should do it more often."
from then on you couldn't get enough of his smile, always trying to make him laugh. which as serious as he is, deep down he lived for it, just basking in your joy and the fact that he was the cause of it.
4 ౨ৎ that being said, mike has a bit of a temper and you know that, taking his waves of bad moods in stride and trying your best to cheer him up, but sometimes he gets so riled up that there’s only so much you can do to help, and mike loses patience.
it’s very rare when he snaps at you and when he does he almost immediately regrets it after seeing how it effects you.
the ever-present smile you hold that has the power to lift everyone’s spirits falls in an instant when one of his outbursts catches you off guard. your eyebrows furrow and you look down to try to keep your own composure. you know he’s not actually mean, at least never to you. you pushed him too hard, you think to yourself and it’s in this moment that mike snaps out of his rage, like a demon that was possessing him had left his body and all he feels is his heart ache.
here you are, the light of his life and he’s the reason you’re not smiling. he rubs his palm over his forehead and reaches out for you, “fuck, i’m sorry” he sighed, “i don’t know why i yelled”
you feel his hand hover over your shoulder and look up, seeing his face full of regret. you reach your hands up and hold his face, which mike immediately melts into, his hands moving to hold your waist. he grabs you tight, desperate even, thinking that if he lets you go you'll leave and he'll lose you for good.
“i know baby. you’ve just had a bad day, i shouldn’t have pushed you.” you sympathize with him, to which he shakes his head.
“yeah but that’s not an excuse, you just wanted to help and—" he pauses and sighs, disappointed with himself, "i’m grateful for that. i love that you care about my problems, no matter how stupid they are.”
you smile gently at his confession, and a weight is lifted off of his chest.
“they’re not stupid. plus, i know you’d do the same for me. you can groan all you want about it but deep down you’re the biggest softie i know.”
mike rolls his eyes playfully, and leans his forehead against yours, “only to you.”
you giggle and connect your lips to his, letting them linger for a few seconds before pulling away and whispering, “yeah, i’d hope so.”
thanks for the request ☆
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familiarscars · 8 days ago
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Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 01
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adult content | minors do NOT interact.
⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.
⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.
⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, bad words.
It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.
Loud music, the smell of cigarettes, screams, and applause.
This was his nightly routine.
His throat vibrated as he gargled for the vocal exercises he needed to perform before going on stage, all while warming up his arm muscles in front of the mirror. The atmosphere in the band was anything but pleasant, but you had to overlook it because of the people outside shouting your name.
They always deserved more from you.
It was because of them that was still here.
You spat the liquid into the glass and took a deep breath, touching up the lipstick on your lips. Adjusting your clothes into place, your hair was good enough. From the box on the dressing room table, you picked up the microphone and plugged in the feedback device into your ears. It was showtime.
“You’re on in five minutes. For God’s sake, at least pretend on stage that you don’t want to kill each other backstage. This show is really important for the band!”
“No need to repeat what I already know, Matt,” you said, rolling your eyes as you left the dressing room with him trailing behind.
“Everyone already knows, darling, but you two seem to forget that the damn contract keeping our rent paid and our asses clean depends on your performance on stage. And let’s face it, it hasn’t exactly been stellar these last few shows!”
Matt planted a negative memory in your mind right then. You recalled that your fans had noticed the radical shift in energy during the shows, which had become a hot topic on blogs and Twitter debates. The last thing you wanted was your name caught up in controversies, but being near him seemed to attract everything you despised.
You were exhausted.
For two years, you had been on the road with the band, touring endlessly—one show after another, with no breaks, no chance to experience even a shred of what it meant to have a normal life. You couldn’t eat at a restaurant without being photographed or go to a bar without someone asking for a picture. This was the life you had always wanted, but you never imagined how draining it could be when there were no moments to simply be yourself.
The band had grown increasingly reclusive in social interactions. Some unpleasant incidents on the internet had made you wary of engaging with the public, creating a distance that only grew wider. Being forced to see the same faces every single day was enough to drive anyone insane.
And in the midst of it all, as if things weren’t exhausting enough, there was your relationship with Noah, growing more unsustainable by the day.
You reached the edge of the stage and watched the intro begin. Your audience roared, chanting your name. The heat from the packed arena ignited your veins, filling you with adrenaline as they waited for the headliners of the night.
From the corner of your eye, you spotted Noah approaching. Without a word, he warmed up, twisting the glove on his long fingers as he adjusted the microphone. Next to him, with a backstage pass around her neck, was a girl you’d never seen before. Judging by the way she looked at him, it was clear she was the random fling he’d slept with the night before.
“Looks like someone had an excellent night, huh?” you said sarcastically, not even sure if he could hear you. “I thought Matt told you it was against the rules to hand out backstage passes to every girl you sleep with.”
You could taste the bitterness of your own words. The raw anger you felt toward him was so intense you wanted to hurl the microphone to the floor and lock yourself in the dressing room. He did this on purpose. He wanted to destabilize you. He wanted you to be angry at yourself for standing on the opposite side of the battlefield.
“Maybe instead of worrying about my life, you should focus on not going off-key tonight,” Noah muttered close to your ear, leaving your body stiff as he walked away toward the stage.
You stepped onto the stage with a wide smile, masking the turmoil inside. The crowd was ecstatic to see you, and despite your exhaustion, you gave it everything you had. Up there, you tried to erase everything weighing down your heart. You poured it into every guitar riff, every lyric you sang.
Your voice had never been more powerful. Between verses, you and Noah locked eyes with a hateful intensity, as if sparks were flying from your irises. If the microphone could beg for mercy, it would, under the force of your grip during your part.
“I lie to myself like it’s not too late,” you sang with emphasis, pacing across the stage, never breaking eye contact with him. “Convinced the past can still be changed.”
“We know it’s gone, but I can’t move on,” he shot back, dividing his gaze between you and the crowd. For a fleeting second, it felt like the world disappeared, leaving only you and Noah in that place. “I want to rewind, but it just replays.”
“But it’s too late to turn back now.” Without realizing it, you skipped part of the song, consumed by your fury.
The show had ended, and you were met with a roaring ovation from the fans as you left the stage. On your way to the dressing room, you felt a hand on your shoulder and turned immediately.
"How are you?" Folio’s tone was gentle as he walked alongside you with slow steps. "Maybe it’s just in my head, but I’ve noticed you’ve seemed a bit off these past few days."
"I’m just tired, Nick. Nothing for you to worry about," you assured him with a smile, and he nodded, parting ways as you entered the dressing room.
"If you need anything, you know you can count on me, right?"
"Of course! Thank you for that!"
The door closed behind you, and as soon as you turned around, you were startled, backing up against it as your breath hitched. Noah was sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, his expression far from pleasant. Before you could take a step forward, you tried to steady yourself.
"We’ve already talked about you coming into my dressing room without permission, Noah. Please leave." Your tone was cold as you pointed to the door without looking directly at him. "There’s a reason we asked for separate spaces, and I’d like you to respect that."
"Matt’s right," he said, ignoring your request as he leaned back on the couch. "We’re letting this ruin the band. If it’s not on stage, it’s in the studio or at home. Every place we’re in has turned into a battleground because you can’t deal with someone from your past like a normal person."
"Of course, you’d say this is my fault!" you laughed bitterly, crossing your arms as you paced back and forth. "I have to put up with you being immature and flaunting the random women you sleep with every day in some pathetic attempt to push me away, but I’m the one who can’t handle being around you?"
A frustrated sigh escaped your lips.
"Since we broke up, you’ve been trying to prove to yourself that you’re above all this, and maybe you are. Because while you’re out there moving on with your life like nothing happened, I’m falling apart!"
You spat the words impulsively, but you hadn’t meant to say them—not because they weren’t true, but because opening up now wouldn’t change anything.
"That was never my intention…"
"That's never your intention, Noah," you said with a weak smile. "The person on the other side is never going to admit they’re wrong, and that’s fine. Screw it. I just want you to stop acting like I don’t exist!"
A shadow loomed over you, and in that moment, all the air was stolen from your lungs. Noah was so close there was no room to step back. You felt your skin burn, hating yourself for still being affected by his proximity—the same man who had been ruining all your days.
"And how could I?" Noah said softly, lifting your chin with his index finger. "If I could ask you for just one thing, it would be to teach me how to get you out of my head as easily as you got me out of yours."
He had no idea what was going on in your mind.
"It’s very simple…" you said, pulling his hand away from your skin and stepping back. "Just start hating me."
As your gaze met his, you noticed something different from what he usually displayed. You had never been this direct with him about what you’d been carrying inside yourself all these days. Noah provoked you constantly because he believed he still held a place in your heart. But now, he seemed to be confronting the reality that it no longer existed.
"If my presence in the band bothers you so much, I can leave. I don’t need to tell them the real reason—just that I’m tired and want to take a break from all this crap." A heavy sigh escaped your lips, and you ran your fingers through your hair, messing it up.
The band had been your dream from the start, and you had never felt more alive than when you were on stage. Your audience had given you everything, reminding you daily of how special, talented, and important you were.
But you were fully aware that you had ruined it all the moment you crossed the line of professionalism with Noah. Not when you were young and reckless, unable to see that while you were an excellent team carrying the band, you were terrible for each other.
Some things just weren’t meant to be.
"And what are you going to do after leaving the band you helped build?" Noah asked, his tone hardening. He forced your attention back to him, stepping into your line of sight and locking his glittering eyes on yours. "Are you going to keep drinking out of control, getting high like there’s no tomorrow, and throwing away your dream like you don’t deserve it? Damn it!"
"If you really care about what I’ll do, then just leave me alone, please," you said, lowering your head to avoid changing your mind if you looked at him for too long. "I need to pack my things and get on the bus before Matt shows up."
"This conversation isn’t over."
"If it’s up to me, it is."
With that final, cutting remark, Noah left you alone in the cramped space that now felt even smaller after this argument. And now, you’d have to board a bus with him and endure a 12-hour drive to the next destination.
Your chest ached as tears streamed down your face, that distinct scent of his lingering in the air and making it unbearable to breathe.
It was getting harder with each passing day.
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lovsalvatore · 2 years ago
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Your name on the list
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader
Summary: After missing a few notes during rehearsals, you have to prove once again to your Maestro that you still deserve a chance.
Warnings: +18, Minors DNI!, smut, nat has a penis, loss of virginity, groping, overstimulation, rough sex, pet names, a bit of manipulation, light choking, unprotected sex, praising, abuse of authority, infidelity, age gap.
Word count: 6.2k
a/n: here's part two for all you horny people. also; comment if you want to be tagged in the next part <3 ✰ series masterlist, main masterlist
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"Okay, stop!" the Maestro's loud voice makes everyone stop playing their instruments immediately. Your hands that were previously on the piano keys just rest on your lap, playing with a loose thread of your blouse. "What's going on today huh? Just because it's Friday and you guys want to enjoy the weekend doesn't mean you have to play like a high school band."
When she says this your eyes go directly to your friend on the other side of the orchestra room, Kate. She widens her eyes, and makes a funny face like she's bored. Even though Natasha's words can be a little harsh at times, everyone here is used to it. Especially Kate. You remember one time Natasha just walked out of the auditorium after making you guys play the same song for hours and hours, saying it was still bad, and all that Bishop said was that at least she didn't say it was terrible, just bad, and that coming from Natasha is like a compliment.
You end up quietly laughing at your friend's action, but then Natasha's body get in the way, stopping a few meters away from you, right in the direction you were looking. All you see for a few seconds is her white shirt, but lifting your gaze you meet her green eyes, feeling her strong judgment in you. Fuck. Your smile disappears instantly. "If you keep playing like this, you don't even have to show up on the day of the big performance." she continues, looking away from you and crossing her arms in front of her body. "An empty stage is better than a whole audience listening to whatever this is that you're playing. Because as much as this symphony was composed by me, the way you guys are playing make it sound like shit, and I don't want people to think I compose shitty music."
She takes a step forward, getting out of the line of sight between you and your friend. You look at each other again, and Kate mouths an 'ouch.', exaggeratedly making an offended expression with her face. You again cannot contain a smile. Bishop always finds the fun in tragic moments, and you love her for it. And you know that if Natasha even saw these kinds of interactions that you two have during rehearsals she would be pissed, not out of jealousy, of course she's not jealous of you, but out of the fact that she hates not being taken seriously.
"In the next rehearsal I don't want any mistakes, especially in the violin part, you're not playing in sync." Natasha takes a deep breath through her nose, turning her face to look in your direction, but you’re more focused on staring blankly at the keys of the instrument in front of you. "But for now... you're dismissed." as soon as she says the words everyone starts to get up, walking towards the stairs to go down from the auditorium stage. You follow your colleagues, going to the first row of seats, which is where everyone usually leaves their belongings. 
"Today she's in a bad mood." Kate says as soon as you reach her side. You take a quick look at the person she's referring to, she has her back to you, tying her hair up in her usual bun. You tried not to spend the entire night thinking about what happened between you two. But all you could imagine when you closed your eyes was how her cock felt inside your mouth, and how good it felt. You don't even remember when, but your hand was already inside your pajama pants, imagining it was her. You even tried using two of your fingers to mimic the feeling of what it might be like to have her inside you, but it hurt, all you were able to bear was half of just one finger of yours, so you stopped. You already know that she'll want to do something else today, and you think if it will hurt too. Or if she's going to let it hurt.
"I mean, it's impossible for her to be in a good mood."
You ignore Kate — so oblivious to your thoughts that you don't even know what to say to her — before picking up your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder. Every Friday you guys usually go to the bar at the end of the street after rehearsals, but you remember Natasha asking you to stay today again, and the way her mood is you sure don't want to give her another reason to stay even more grumpy. "I... I'm staying a little longer, the Maestro is helping me with some of my compositions." you lie, you don't even compose songs. "But you can go to the bar with the others, I'll meet you there."
"Oh... okay... I'll definitely want to listen to your piece later." she says in an excited tone, closing her violin case. "Just promise not to take too long, the bar is kinda boring without you."
"I promise."
"Okay perfect, and good luck with her." she pats your shoulder twice before walking past you, and you just stand there waiting for everyone to leave the orchestra room. When silence sets in, you realize that you are finally alone with Natasha again. She remains onstage as you grip the strap of your backpack so hard it looks like you want to tear the poor thing apart. You think if you look good, if the outfit you chose today caught her attention, if all the strands of your hair are in place. You’re nervous.
Natasha stares at you for a few seconds, actually, she couldn't take her eyes off you the entire time you were playing the piano, which isn't all that unusual, but this time she knew that at the end of the day she would have you, and that she wouldn't come home just to have to relieve herself alone thinking about you. But she didn't have a good day, you could tell from the way she was harsh with her words throughout rehearsal. Not that she isn't like that naturally, but today she put a lot of work into the insults. So all she wants now is to have something to make this day better. And you are the best option she has to solve this problem.
Her steps get louder as she steps down from the stage to approach you, who still has your back to her when you feel her presence so close to you. "Why don't you drop this, you're not leaving." she says referring to your backpack, and you immediately do as she asks, dropping it on the floor. Natasha smiles, seeing that she doesn't need to ask you twice for you to obey her. "Don't think you're an exception Y/N, you also disappointed me today."
You swallow hard, feeling her smooth the strands of your hair to the side to be able to kiss the curve of your neck. You close your eyes, her breath so close to your ear that you pay no attention to any other sounds in your surroundings. "You're gonna have to work really hard if you still want to be my first choice for the world tour, because with all the mistakes you made today..." she sucks your pulse point after saying this, making sure to leave a mark for everyone to see. "...maybe you don't really deserve this opportunity after all, hm?"
You haven't missed a single note, since you've been playing for her you've never made that mistake. You play the piano since you were six years old, so hitting the wrong key is something very unusual for you. But when you hear her saying that you made a mistake, you end up believing, it's her song, not yours. And Natasha knows it, she knows you played the song perfectly. But she needs a something to make you give her what she wants, even though deep down she knows you'd give in for no particular reason. "I-I... I know I deserve it." you say in a weak voice. "I can prove to you that I'm the best option, I know I can, Maestro."
"Yeah?" you gasp as her strong hands grope your breasts, pulling your body towards her and making you feel her hard bulge against your ass. You tremble in anticipation knowing that you're going to lose your virginity to her today, and you've kind of been preparing for it all day, so maybe that must have caused you to miss a few notes. Yeah, that would make sense. "I can put your name on the list today, you wouldn't have to wait another day to be part of the world tour... but only if you prove to me that you really are the best choice. Would you like that?" she asks close to your ear, and you nod frantically. "Good."
You feel a cool breeze hitting your body as she suddenly pulls away. As you turn to face her, you see her grabbing your backpack from the floor, slinging it over her shoulder before taking your hand. You look at her confused, but let her lead you to wherever she is leading. The two of you enter the hall of the building that you come to every day to stay hours playing the piano. It's dark, probably all the other employees working here are gone by now. You're known as the late-night musician crowd here, the ones that play for more hours straight too, five hours of class in total. So it wouldn't be surprising if in fact the only ones left here are you and Natasha. "Did your parents complain that you were late yesterday?" she lets go of your hand to get a key from her pocket, and unlocking a door she takes your arm to pull you into the room.
"No, I told 'em I was practicing, and they believed." you answer, hearing the door lock behind you. It's a relatively small room, it has a piano against one of the walls, but unlike the one in the orchestra room — which is a grand piano — this one is an upright one. There's a couch with red upholstery, a few other decorations, and then a desk. You walk towards it, running your finger across the wood material from one end to the other. "Is this your office?"
Natasha drops your backpack on the sofa along with her glasses before walking towards you. "No." she answers, and you again feel her warmth behind you. "I have my own office somewhere else, I just leave my stuff here from time to time." her hands go to your hips, sinking her nose into your neck to smell your perfume. "I spent the whole night thinking about you." you understand that she's not here to talk, she just wants something specific from you. You let her grip your body possessively, her hands squeezing every inch of you like she doesn't want you to leave. It's hot, you think that's even a little weird considering the fact that it's winter, but having her so close to you makes it feel like summer. And you can't deny that feeling her gaze on you throughout rehearsal has you completely needy for her, you already know that your underwear situation isn't the best, and you can't wait for her to finally do something about it.
But then something on the desk draws your attention. A ring. Natasha is a married woman, but she rarely wears her wedding ring. She just puts it on before leaving the house to prove her wife that she wears it, but whenever she gets here for rehearsals she leaves the little accessory in this room. There were times when she forgot, and kept the ring on all day, but rarely did anyone notice. Because as much as she loves her wife, Natasha still hates showing everyone that she belongs to someone, and that thought only started when you entered her life, what a coincidence. You bend your body to pick up the accessory, and when you look at it you can see a date engraved on the inside. It has a name too, but before you can read it Natasha snatches the object out of your hand.
"Sorry." you whisper, expecting her to call you names for taking something that isn't yours, but she doesn't. She doesn't have time for that. Natasha puts the ring on her finger, before turning her attention again to gripping your body. You feel bad for a few moments, knowing she has a wife who don't even imagine the things she does to you. But your mind is immersed in desire when Natasha's hand starts to go down between your breasts, to the button of your pants. She plays with your zipper while planting kisses all over your neck, with that, you find yourself thirsting for her with every passing second. "Nat..."
"Did you hear what I said? That you didn't get out of my head last night?" she unzips, and slowly pulls your pants down to your thighs. You feel your cheeks burn, feeling her play with the hem of your underwear. Are you really prepared for this? You think. But also think of the world tour, and the answer becomes clear. "I had to fuck my wife thinking about you to relieve myself." you bite the inside of your cheek, hearing her say such words makes you wet. You feel bad for her wife, yes, but turned on to know that Natasha thinks so highly of you. She thought about you all night, just like you thought about her. Maybe this could be more than just an exchange of favors, no?
With one hand, Natasha spreads your legs apart. You have both of your hands resting against the desk, as her hand starts to move up your inner thigh. "You're always so quiet." she chuckles when her hand reaches between your legs, your body squirms, pressing her fingertips against your underwear Natasha can feel how wet you are for her. This just makes her harder. "Is it because you've never done this before? Is that why you don't know what to say sweet girl?"
"Uhum." you hum, closing your eyes when she presses on your clit. "I just... I just need..."
"What?" in one swift motion she pulls your underwear down, and you end up moaning as her hand goes straight to your slit. You spread your legs a few more inches apart when she starts to move back and forth over your folds, looking down Natasha groans at the sight of your cheeks so close to her covered cock. "What do you need?" she continues to spread your wetness all over your pussy while her other hand grabs one of your breasts, making you close your eyes at the aggressiveness she does. "Do you wanna tell your Maestro what you need from her, hm?"
You want to talk to her, you really do. But it's the first time anyone's touched you like this, and you can do anything but form a complete sentence. You didn't think she'd be this quick, you really thought you'd at least talk before she had all of you, but feeling her fingers slip through your slits makes you not mind too much about that. You just need her, you're practically begging her to finally ruin you. "I really need you to say it so I can keep going." she murmurs, opening your folds with her fingers before teasing your entrance. "Do you want me to stretch your tight little pussy? Want me to be your first?" she ends up sliding just the tip of her finger inside you, and since you tried to do the same last night, the sensation is not so strange for you, but even so, because she’s the one doing it, it makes you feel different type of feelings.
You manage to nod your head at her question, gripping the edge of the table tightly as she switches from teasing your entrance to playing with your clit. You smile trapping your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to follow her movement into your sex with your hips. "I need words baby, please."
"Y-yes, fuck I need you, p-please."
The Maestro smiles, her heart beating wildly inside her chest. She pulls down her own pants and boxers, her hard cock as it springs out brushes lightly against your cheeks. Your hands that were once on the edge of the desk are now both pressed against your low back as Natasha takes your wrists, and with her other hand she forces your body into the desk, causing you to whine in pain when your cheek is pressed against the icy wood material, your breasts practically smashed against the table. You close your eyes for a few seconds at her subtle movement, and think about how easily she can position you however she wants. She's much stronger than you. And she wasn't really planning on ending up being this aggressive, but sometimes she can't help herself.
"Fuck... you're so wet." she says as she pulls back a little just to get a good view of your sex, her hand still holding yours against your lower back. "Who knew you got so turned on in the presence of your Maestro huh? What would your parents think of that? I don't think they would be so proud to hear that you lie to them by telling you're practicing when in reality you're letting yourself be fucked by your conductor."
You turn your head away to hide the embarrassment you feel, but pressing your forehead against the table is even more uncomfortable, so you end up turning your face away again, resting your cheek on the furniture. Natasha uses her free hand to rub her cock against your slits, groaning at the sight of your wetness mixing with her pre-cum. "Natasha... I..." you whisper, remembering that this can hurt. Even though you're so turned on, so wet that you might not feel a thing, you're still tinged with fear, and the red-haired woman can see it too. "I don't know if-."
"Shhh." she silences you, letting go of your wrists to brush the strands of hair that fall over your face. "It's okay, no need to be scared, it will feel good, I promise." you find comfort in her words, and that makes some of the fear go away, even though you know she's not that honest sometimes. The older woman even thinks of getting the lub she brought, but seeing how wet you are she thinks that won't be necessary. A gasp escapes her lips as she continues to rub her cock into your slit, and feeling the heat of your sex only make her more painfully aroused. “Stay still detka.”
You close your eyes tightly as you feel her tip slowly stretching your hole, and you realize it's very different from when you tried to use your fingers. She stays still for a while, and you think it's not that bad, at least not until she starts sliding even more inside you. You grunt in pain when half of her cock enters you, and even though you are wet, it still burns a little, trying to get used to this new sensation. "Fuck, you're so tight." Natasha breathes out the words, moving her hips back and making your pussy clenches around nothing. "Is this okay? Can I keep going?”
"U-uhm y-yes." you open your eyes again when she pulls your head by holding your hair, lifting it slightly but your body still pressed against the table.
"Good... This might hurt a little. Tap my thigh if you want me to stop."
You don't understand why you would have to tap her thigh when you can use your words, but feeling her hand pressing over your mouth you understand why. She uses her hand to stifle the scream that rips from your throat as she thrusts her cock all at once inside your pussy, and it hurts, it hurts like hell, but even so, your hand remains still, making no move to tap her thigh. Your entire body protests Natasha's gross invasion, but you remember she said this will feel good, and that's what you want to believe in. She pulls out, leaving only the tip inside you, before moving her hips forward in a blunt act, causing the table to swell slightly beneath you. "F-fuck." you mumble against her palm, every inch of her stretching your walls, feeling like at any moment she's going to destroy you from the inside by the thickness and length of her. She is indeed really big, you don't know what was on your mind when you thought this would be easy to take.
"Fuck baby, you're so tight, how am I supposed to move inside you hm?" Natasha's fingers continue to wrap around your hair as she presses your face back against the table, while her other hand grabs your hips to keep you still. She starts to fuck you slowly but hard at the same time. Her every thrust is aggressive, some things on the table even move with every move she makes against you. You palm your hands to the side of your body as that aching feeling inside you starts to turn into a feeling you didn't know would feel so good until now. "Do you think you can take more? Want me to fuck you hard?"
You clench around her dick at the thought of her fucking you harder than she already is, and the sensation this causes around Natasha's length makes her moan in pleasure. "Oh that's it... clench around my cock, fuck you're so hot." she sinks her nails into your hips, pulling you closer to her. "Do you want me to continue? Want me to fuck you mercilessly?"
"P-please." you beg, even deep down you want her to take it easy at first, moving your hips back when she stops suddenly with her movements. "Keep going, feels so good."
"Hm?" you feel her strong hand against your throat, pulling you up and making your body fully erect again. You feel the relief this caused on your cheek, but what holds your attention the most is the way Natasha's cock starts to fuck you from behind. "Like this? Want me to treat you like a slut?" your arms are pulled behind your body while her other hand is still around your throat. Natasha fucks you while preventing you from moving your arms, and at the same time making it difficult for oxygen to rise to your brain. You arch your back, your eyes rolling as you feel her hit against the deepest part of your pussy.
She's rougher with your cunt than she was with your mouth, sinking her thick cock into your tight walls and making you moan over it. It still hurts, you didn't have time to get used to its size completely, but you get wetter with each thrust that gets easier and easier for Natasha to fuck you hard. You feel your pants sliding down your legs with every pound of her, and it's not long before it falls to your ankles. "You wanted this didn't you?" she asks tightening her fingers around your neck even more. "I bet this isn't the first time you've wanted this from me, tell me, did you touch yourself thinking about me too? Did you use those talented hands of yours to imagine I was fucking you?” she wants to hear it from you, she wants to know that she wasn't the only one doing this all these months that you've been her apprentice.
"I-I, yes." you admit it, even though it's not true. Even if you had impure thoughts about your Maestro you've never really touched yourself thinking about her, but if that's what she wants to hear, that's what you'll say. And again, a big mistake you just made. "Fuck. it. hurts." you end up saying it out loud between labored sighs, feeling the tightness in your throat loosen.
"Want me to stop?" you shake your head from side to side quickly, feeling embarrassingly closer to the edge. Natasha slows down her thrusts inside you as she lowers the hand that was previously around your throat to massage your clit. She fucks you slowly, while making circular motions on your bundle of nerves at medium speed. With her light movements you can feel better the way she moves inside you, not just hard thrusts. You feel her cock sliding over your walls, and how her fingers work so well on your clit.
That's much better, slowly and carefully. You throw your head back, not understanding how you can still stand when the way she fucks you makes you feel boneless. "S-so good." you murmur, your arms move a little when you feel her ridge digging deep into the spongy part of you, but natasha holds them tighter, pulling you against her, almost making your back press against her covered breasts. She again feels your perfume invaded her senses, and thinks how she never wants to try anyone's scent but yours.
You didn't imagine that your first time would be in a random room, with a woman much older than you, and whom you admire so much. But now you don't think how it could just be better that already is. It's just wonderful the way her dick enters you carefully, as if this whole time it was meant to be. You wonder if it's normal to feel so ecstatic so quickly, you didn't think that anything other than your hand would be able to pull you over the edge so fast. And you want to hold on longer, trying to prolong her pleasure as well, but it gets hard when all you can feel is her thick cock sliding in and out of you, as your clit begins to grow sensitive to her touches. “You’re doing so good.” she whispers close to your ear, increasing the stimulation on your nerve just a little bit, only to pull you further towards the climax.
She hates that it took you so long to give yourself to her, and even though you're not completely hers yet, she already feels that way. She's wanted this for a long time, and now that she finally has what she wanted, it's going to be hard for her to let go. She rolls her hips over yours, and it's torturous but perfect at the same time.
Natasha has a hard time keeping her movements slow, all she wants is to abuse you until you can't walk the next day. But she also wants to make you feel good, she wants to make your first time worth it. And it's working. You feel the orgasm starting to build, and you know you won't be able to hold it back for long because of the way she makes you feel like you're out of gravity. "I... fuck... I'm so-." you don't even know what to say, you just try to control the moans that insist on coming out of your mouth. "Fuck I think I'm-."
"Come for me pretty girl, come on, I know you're close, come on, I got you."
It doesn't take long for you to reach your peak, and unlike when you're alone, this time feels totally different. You close your eyes tightly when the pleasure is all you can feel in every muscle in your body, Natasha rests her forehead on your back as she feels you squeezing her cock, feeling the wetness that spreads on her hand as she keeps stimulating you. "That's it..." she stops inside you, pressing her finger against your clit and feeling your sensitive area pulsating on her fingertips. Your breathing is uncontrolled when you finally break out of the trance, feeling your body sweating even though she did all the work.
It feels like you're drugged, and you're afraid you'll end up becoming addicted to her. And this was only the first time, you don't know if there will be others, but really hope so. With time she stops completely, waiting for you to get back together. And you thank her for it. It was so good, you want to go again, and again, until you can't take it anymore. You didn't know it would feel this good, you really were afraid that it would just hurt, but even though it did, in the end it was worth it.
You stay that way for a few moments before Natasha slowly pulls out of you, and you suddenly complain about the emptiness. Your legs are shaky as you turn your body to face her, her eyes showing nothing more than desire as they look directly into yours. "You okay?" she asks gently, cupping your face in her hands. You nod, staring at her parted lips. You try to bring your face even closer to kiss her, but the Maestro holds your jaw, preventing you from getting any closer. "No... no kissing."
"Why?"
"Oh detka, we're not trying to fall in love here, are we?" she speaks in a subtle way, even though she knew those weren't the words you wanted to hear. But you end up agreeing with her, it's really not what you're looking for, it's just an exchange of favors. You force that thought into your head, feeling the tip of her cock pressing against your bare sex. You look down, seeing the length of her glistening with your fluids, she imitates your act, this time getting a perfect view at your pussy. Is certainly one of the best views she's ever had. "Gonna keep fucking you okay?" she warns, running her fingers over your slits to make sure you stay wet, You shiver as she runs her finger over your clit before returning to your entrance. She pulls two fingers inside you, wetting them before leading them to her mouth. Natasha hums while feeling your taste on her tongue, and you think it wouldn't be possible for a scene to be this mesmerising, but ends up being anyway. Being completely aware of your arousal she quickly gets back to work.
Natasha groans, lifting one of your legs up to her hip to continue. She hasn't come yet. You weren't expecting it when she pushes her cock back inside you, and unlike how she was doing it a few minutes ago this time she just uses you like a fuck doll. And that's what you are to her, just someone to fuck, not someone to create emotional bonds with. At least that's what she's trying to get herself to believe in.
"You don't know how good it feels to have you squeezing my cock... my god how tight you are." you'll never get tired of hearing her tell you this, it just works the way you feel around her even more. The sounds you two make aren't low by any chance, and you're grateful that there's no one around to know what the two of you are up to behind closed doors. "You're so fucking beautiful, you're perfect."
Your legs feel like jelly, still trying to fully recover from your last orgasm, and noticing your difficulty standing up Natasha holds both your thighs, pulling you to sit on top of the desk, while thrusting her cock even deeper inside you.
She grips your jaw tightly, forcing you to look deep into her eyes as she fucks you. You see the darkness that consumes her, so lost in desire it makes your body convulse. "You're just a tiny little talented slut aren't ya? Look how good you take me all in." her breath hits against your lips, and you try to control yourself so you don't end up realising it again, feeling overstimulated by her every second. "So... so good for me, only for me.”
You rests both your hands on the table, wrapping your legs around Natasha's hips feeling her fuck you quickly and aggressively. Her hands grip tight on your thighs, and she tries to maintain eye contact with you, but she wants to see how she fucks you, she wants to see the scene of her destroying you from the inside. She lowers her sight to focus on the way her cock disappears inside you, how you take her so well even being your first time. "Gonna come so deep inside you." she whispers, feeling closer with her own words. "Gonna fill you up so good baby."
You feel the heat getting more unbearable, as it seems the walls of the room get smaller around you, one of your hands going towards her shoulder for better balance. You expect the table to break at any moment, just like Natasha is doing with your insides. And unlike her, you keep your eyes glued to the expressions on her face; how her eyebrows furrow up, how she tries to keep her moans from being audible. "Oh fuck... fuck... keep taking it... that's it..." you feel her nails digging deep into the skin of your thighs, and you know you're going to be bruised all over, but the thought of it makes your heart warm. "Is this making you feel good? Oh I bet so. Want to tell me how good I make you feel?"
"Y-yes... you make me feel so good." you say in uncontrolled breaths, squeezing her shoulder hard as you feel yet another orgasm slamming against your body like a brick. But still Natasha doesn't stop, even noticing the way your walls tighten around her cock, she still keeps pushing inside you harshly. "Fuuuck... fuck I don't think I can... Nat... p-please-."
"Shhhh, yes you can, I'm almost there, keep taking it." her hands lift your shirt up to your breasts, and she grunts at the sight of them covered by your bra. All she wanted right now was to get that stupid piece of clothing off your body, but being content with what she has she just squeezes them, your breasts fit perfectly into her palms, and she gropes them so hard it seems like your skin burns with her touch.
Your legs fall from her hips, feeling so overstimulated you don't have the strength to keep them wrapped around her. Natasha also finds it difficult to keep pushing inside you because you're so tight, and you try your best to keep taking her. That pain that had passed comes back, making you cry when you realize that you won't be able to hold on. "Please... please!" you beg, squeezing her shoulder and making Natasha hiss from the strength you do it. "Nat please I can't… it hurts.”
"Baby, begging isn't going to get you anywhere... you didn't ask me to stop, so keep quiet hm?" you nod your head realizing that what she says is true, you didn't actually ask her to stop, you just begged, but for nothing in particular. You feel so sensitive, her cock feels so big on you that it really hurts, but also a pain that feels really good. Fuck, it hurts so good you even feel ashamed to admit it. It feels like you're going to pass out, the room grows dark and your breath gets shorter. And the Maestro sees the tears running down your cheeks, and that's the last straw for her. With a few more thrusts you feel her warm fluid being released inside you, painting your inner walls all over. "Yeah... that's it... fuck… you feel so good."
Natasha practically collapses on top of you, resting her head in the crook of your neck as she continues to fill yourself with her cum. She moves her hips slowly to fuck the cum inside you, and you hate to admit that the wet noises of her action are so arousing. She closes her eyes for a few seconds feeling her dick throbbing inside you. "Nat..." you whine as she pulls away, and then taking her cock outside you you can feel the liquid seeping through your slits. You sigh with immediate relief, and only then do you realize your face is wet with your tears. Natasha grabs her shaft, rubbing it in your pussy and watching as her white juice spreads through your folds. She slides the tip back inside to keep every last drop that’s left in you, before going back to rubbing the end of it on your clit. Natasha is mesmerized, and even though she wants to continue she takes a step back.
"You did so good, I'm proud of you." she runs her knuckles over your cheeks, wiping the tears away. You close your eyes in her caress, feeling your pussy throbbing. "You were perfect."
And then the room is back to its normal size, the walls aren't suffocating you anymore, and the heat isn't so unbearable. Natasha picks up your underwear on the floor, and passes them by your feet to help you put them on, and you end up getting up from the table so she can pass the piece of clothing to your thighs. She doesn't say anything as she picks up your pants as well, holding them out to you before running her fingers over the strands of her hair. She's still hard when she tucks her cock into her pants, and as soon as you're fully dressed again you approach her. "I can help you with that..." you say directing your hand to the bulge in her pants, but Natasha shakes her head no.
"No, it's okay sweet girl." you smile when you hear her call you by the nickname, then just nod as she starts walking towards the door. She unlocks it, and holds it open for you to pass. As you move you can feel some of her cum that was still inside you wet your underwear, and then it hits you, you really did it, it doesn't even seem real, and the worst of it is that you liked it more than you should have. After you pick up your backpack on top of the sofa, you two begin a silent path through the corridors. You feel your legs weak, and you fear it will only get worse when you wake up the next day. But as has been said before, it was all worth it. When you're next to her, you see Natasha fiddling with her phone, talking to someone in messages. You also notice the way she squeezes her cock over her pants, the discomfort you left her in still isn't entirely gone. "Are you gonna get an uber or something?" she asks as soon as you step onto the sidewalk outside of the building.
"Uhm... no... I'm gonna go to a bar with my friends at the end of the street."
She just nods, not taking her eyes off her phone screen. You tighten your backpack straps, rocking your body back and forth not knowing if you should just walk away or wait for her to say goodbye first. She types quickly to whoever is talking to her, and you see the way her brows furrow, like she's worried about something. "I uhm... I should go." she says before finally looking up at you, giving you a weak smile. "Are you okay with what happened today?"
"Yes." you answer immediately. "It was... really good."
Indeed it was, you could do it for hours. You didn't know sex could feel this good. Or at least the sex with her definitely was.
"Okay good." she's relieved that she didn't make you do anything you didn't want to, even though she knows the real reason why you actually did it. "And... I'll talk to you next week about what I told you earlier."
"What?" you ask, not really knowing what she's talking about.
"The list... Your name on the list."
Oh, this.
For a moment you even forgot about it, you felt so good in her presence that you didn't even remember that in fact all of this was for other intentions. "Oh yes of course… okay." Natasha stares at you for a few more seconds before walking towards her car, leaving you alone. When she drives away you follow the vehicle with your eyes until it completely disappears from your view. And then you're back to reality. And what a shitty reality.
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taglist: @kksalexa @madelineleong @shaniaauld03 @natashafanatic @gayerthanevertbh @wifeofnatasharomanoff
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sissylittlefeather · 1 year ago
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How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 1
A/N: New series alert! This is a time travel/soulmate AU with Elvis and a reader insert. I've had this one in my head for a while, so I hope you enjoy it! It'll get spicy soon, but this chapter is mostly setup. Hang in there! I think this'll be good! Special thanks to my beta reader, @ccab for helping me with this one, as always.
Warnings: none really. This is mostly fluffy setup! Oh yeah, there's an erection lol
Word count: ~2.7k
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You've been an Elvis fan for your entire life. Your grandmother was a big fan and it's something the two of you shared while she was alive. Since she passed, you've become even more obsessed, traveling to Graceland and anywhere Elvis performed whenever you have a chance. It's weird, but you have this strange feeling like there's something that ties you to him, despite the fact that he died 10 years before you were born. You don't really tell people this, but everyone who knows you knows how much you love him. Your roommate is consistently amazed at the lengths you'll go to in order to experience something related to him.
"You're really going to miss class for half a week to go to Tupelo?"
"Yes. I don't know why, but I need to be there at the same time he was."
"Y/n, it's 2007. He's not going to be there."
"I know that, Katie. I can't explain it. Just mark me present in algebra, please." She shakes her head with her eyebrows raised.
"If you insist."
******
It's 1957 and Elvis has had a small break since his last show, so he spent it at his new home in Memphis. The house is everything he's ever dreamed of for his family, so he's almost reluctant to go back on the road. Still, he's promised to do another show in his hometown after the one last year was so successful. Going back to Tupelo is always a strange experience for him, especially now that his financial situation has changed so much. His memories there are difficult, at best, so it's strange to go back as a famous performer.
He shakes his head to refocus on the conversation he's in about getting things ready to leave. The Colonel is there and he'll need to get in a car with him soon. No time to ponder the philosophy of how much things can change in a few short years.
"My boy, are you ready to leave? We need to make sure we have plenty of time to get there before the show."
"Yeah, I'm ready. Let me grab my suitcase." He picks up the piece of luggage and wraps his mother in a hug. She whispers in his ear.
"Love you, booby. We'll see you soon." He nods and kisses her cheek. Then, he makes his way to the car and slides into the back seat. Next stop: Tupelo.
******
When you get to Tupelo, you head straight to the fairgrounds where Elvis played his show in '57. There's something magical about being there exactly 50 years later. You wander around the site, closing your eyes to imagine what it must have been like to be there to see him. There's a strange pang in your heart like you miss him, even though you've never met him.
******
Elvis is putting on his best show for all the screaming girls in the audience. He's dressed in a gold jacket and black pants and he's not holding back at all in his performance. He sings, he dances, he wiggles, and the girls go wild.
Something about the energy of the crowd and the feeling of being on stage has him excited. He does his best to hide it during the performance and is pretty sure he manages to keep anyone from noticing. But as soon as the show is over, he knows he's going to need to find somewhere private to either take care of himself or at least adjust his pants so that it's less obvious. He runs down the steps of the stage and heads behind it to try to find some kind of place to do what he needs to do.
As he's walking around quickly, he gets the strangest feeling in his stomach and then runs smack into a girl.
******
You're wandering around where the stage would've been when you run into him. The shock of meeting another person here at the fairgrounds after dark is nothing compared to what you feel when you look up at him as he grabs your upper arms to steady you.
"Honey, be careful. I'm on a mission here."
"Holy shit. You're..."
"Yes. Now I have to..." He looks you up and down and realizes the strange outfit you're wearing. Then he looks up and realizes the stage has disappeared. He looks around frantically, forgetting that he needs to posture himself to hide his erection.
"You're... how? Oh God." You can't believe what's happening. You're pretty sure you must have fallen asleep somewhere. You pinch your arm, just to be sure. But no, this is Elvis Presley. And he has a massive erection.
"What the hell is going on here, honey?" He looks into your eyes fearfully.
"I don't know. Are you really... you?"
"I'm Elvis Presley, if that's what you're asking. Where are we?"
"We're in Tupelo. At the fairgrounds."
"No, that's where I just was." He looks around again and you look down, blushing.
"Are you... are you okay?" You ask sheepishly. He gasps and turns away from you to rearrange himself. When he turns back around, he grabs you by your upper arms and looks into your eyes again.
"What is happening?" Just then, the security guard calls to you from across the grounds.
"Hey! You can't be here!"
"Oh, shit, we need to go. Come with me." You grab his hand and pull him toward the exit. He follows along reluctantly.
"I'm sorry; I know this is weird, but we need to go." You break into a jog and he jogs along with you, still holding your hand. When you finally make it back out to your car in the parking lot, you stop and catch your breath.
"Okay, honey, what the hell is going on?"
"I need you to not freak out when I tell you this." He shrugs.
"I can't make any promises."
"You, well, you travelled through... through time."
"I don't understand."
"Elvis, it's 2007. You've travelled 50 years into the future."
His face goes white and you're afraid he's about to pass out, so you quickly open the car door and let him fall into your front seat.
"The future?"
"Yes."
"2007?!"
"Yes."
"That's why you're dressed so strangely. And why this car is... different..." He looks around your car incredulously. You nod.
"Is this a thing people do in the future? Travel through time?!"
"Oh absolutely not. I don't know how this happened. Also my outfit is not strange. Your outfit is strange." He smiles a little and then leans back against the seat, wiping his forehead with his hand. You walk around the car and slide into the driver's seat. He turns and looks at you.
"Well, I guess I'm stuck here. Where are we going?"
"You're really Elvis Presley?"
"I'm pretty sure." You shake your head, trying not to cry, but the tears start to stream down your face. "Aw, honey, don't cry. Why are you crying?"
"I can't believe it's you. I've loved you forever."
"How do you know who I am?" You open your mouth to answer and then close it quickly. You'll have to be careful with what you say, so you don't tell him too much about his future. Assuming you'll be able to get him back where he came from.
"My grandma was a big fan of your music in the '50s."
"Oh. Your grandma?! I'm sorry. I keep forgetting what year you said it is."
"It's 2007. Exactly 50 years from where you were."
"50 years. Wow. So I'm 72?! Wherever I am." You swallow hard. You can't tell him. You decide to change the subject.
"I need to go home. I guess you'll have to come with me. Unless you object?"
"Where else am I going to go?"
"That's a good point. Back to campus we go."
"Campus?"
"Yeah, I'm in college. You're gonna have to stay at my dorm. I hope that's not too weird." He looks at you with an incredulous smile.
"Everything about this is weird."
"That's valid." You both laugh as you start the car and drive away.
******
When you pull into a parking space on campus, it's close to 1am. He yawns. You forget how tired he must be. You've actually been able to talk quite a bit on the drive and you're surprised at how easy he is to talk to.
"Are we going to have to sneak?" He looks at you curiously.
"Well, no. This is a coed dorm. No one cares."
"A coed dorm?! What has the future come to?"
"Oh, honey, you have no idea." You make your way to the elevator and ride up to your floor. When you get to your door, you realize you're going to have to come up with a story for your roommate.
"Okay. You're an ETA. Follow my lead."
"I'm sorry. A what?"
"Elvis tribute artist. Impersonator. Basically you're a guy that likes to dress up as you." He laughs.
"That exists?"
"Ha. Yeah. Try not to ask too many questions." You put your key in the door and open it carefully. Hopefully, Katie is already in bed and you won't have to have this conversation.
But she's not.
"And just what kind of hour do you call- oh. Hello." She stops her sarcastic greeting when she realizes you're not alone.
"Katie, this is... John. John, this is Katie, my roommate."
"Nice to meet you, Katie." He extends his hand and she takes it slowly. She turns to you.
"I didn't expect you to pick up a stray in Tupelo."
"Yeah, well, look at him. How could I say no?" Her eyes wander back to Elvis and she shrugs.
"I can't say that I blame you. Okay, well, you two don't have too much fun. I'm going to bed now that I know you're home safely." She turns and heads into her bedroom. Thankfully, you live in a suite style dorm, so you each have your own room. You gesture for him to follow you and head into your room.
"You're going to have to stay in here with me. If you sleep on the couch, it'll be too weird. I'm sorry."
"Does she think...? Is this something you do a lot?" He looks at you with a glint in his eye.
"I mean, not a lot. No. Honestly, like never." You feel yourself blush and you look at your feet. He puts his hand under your chin and tips your face up to look at him.
"It's okay. I'm learning quickly that the future is different. I don't mind staying in here with you." Your stomach flip flops when he touches you and you're overwhelmed with a need for him to kiss you. He seems to feel something too because he turns from you and clears his throat.
You go to your drawers and dig for something he can wear. Luckily, you wear a lot of men's sweatpants and oversized t-shirts to sleep, so you get an outfit together for him and show him the bathroom to change. When he comes back out, you laugh. He seems so out of place dressed so casually. You change into pajamas and wash your face, coming back out to find him settled into half of your double bed. You crawl into the bed next to him and he turns over on his side facing you.
"Thank you for taking care of me. You didn't have to do that. You don't know me from Adam."
"Well, I somehow feel like this is my fault. I'm not sure how, but I feel responsible. And I do know you, kind of. Thank you for trusting me to take care of you." He smiles.
"I didn't have much choice. But it's strange. I feel like I know you, somehow. Like we met once and forgot about it. But I know that's not possible. Either way. I'm glad to be here with you." The feeling that you want him to kiss you is back. But he doesn't. Instead, he closes his eyes and is asleep pretty quickly. You roll over and try to go to sleep too, ignoring the racing thoughts in your head.
You really have Elvis Presley in your bed.
******
When you wake up, you're tucked up under his chin with his arm around you. You're not sure how you got this snuggled up, but it feels nice and for a second you forget who he is. He stirs about the same time you do and stretches, wrapping his arms around you tighter. When you realize the situation, you sit up.
"Oh, God, I'm sorry."
"Don't be, honey, it was nice." He yawns and pulls you back down to him. You relax against his chest and he kisses the top of your head.
"You don't even know me." You whisper.
"Yes, I do. And I like you. Is that okay?" You nod and wrap your arms around him.
"What are we doing today?" He seems to be taking being stuck in 2007 in stride. What you don't know is that he's actually really grateful for the break from his performance schedule. And he can't explain it, but he knows you somehow. Or at least, that's how it feels.
"Oh, well, I already missed my 9am class, so I guess we will hang out around town. We need to go to the mall and get you some clothes. You can't be wandering around in that ridiculous gold jacket." He laughs.
"What do guys wear these days?" You think about the skinny jeans and band tees and you're not sure what to tell him. This might be harder than you thought.
******
At the mall, you take him to a store that sells guy's clothes and watch him as he marvels at the modern styles. He's immediately drawn to the studded belts and you laugh, thinking of the studded jumpsuits he'll wear in the '70s. You find some jeans that aren't too skinny and he stands looking at the wall of band t-shirts.
"All of these are rock'n'roll groups?!"
"Well, we don't call it that anymore, but pretty much."
"Which ones do you like?" You point to a few of them and tell him about the music you listen to that isn't his.
"Can we listen to them?"
"Of course! But clothes first." You take him to the fitting rooms and he picks out a few pairs of pants and some button down shirts. You also let him pick out a studded belt and he goes with a pink one with silver studs. When you get to the checkout counter, he's absolutely shocked at how much it costs. You assure him that this is normal and pay for his things. As you walk out, he leans over and whispers.
"If I ever get back to '57, I'll never complain about the cost of things ever again." You laugh and take the hand he offers as you walk through the mall. He's amazed at how many stores there are and all the noise and technology that's around you. He keeps stopping and looking at things, so it takes you a while to make it through. He stops at a calendar kiosk and finds a calendar with photos of himself. You quickly yank it away from him and put it back.
"You can't see that."
"Aw, honey, why not?"
"I can't let you learn anything about your future." He looks at you with concern.
"Is it that bad?"
"Well, not exactly. I just don't want to ruin anything for you. You have to live it."
"If I ever get back."
"You must, or this calendar wouldn't exist. We'll figure something out." He puts his arm around your shoulders as you move on through the mall.
When you get back to the car, you pull a cd from the holder on your car visor and put it in for him to listen to. His eyes widen as the fast-paced drums and guitar chords start.
"Wow."
"This is what you started. You made this happen."
"It's so... it's a lot. But I like it. A lot." He starts moving to the music and you laugh.
"I'd love to see these guys live."
"I have. It's pretty great." He looks at you with envy as you start to sing along to the music. Somewhere inside him, he kind of hopes you won't be able to find a way for him to get back. Everything in this time intrigues him and the thought of leaving you is certainly not appealing, especially once he hears you sing.
Maybe he'll just stay with you forever.
******
Until Chapter 2!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
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dross-the-fish · 1 month ago
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the 2004 movie doesn't change much from the musical but it still feels so much worse
That is the power of directing. There are small differences between some of the stage productions and choices like actor interpretation and directing can make a huge difference as to how we experience the show. I have seen productions that made me totally get why some people ship Erik x Christine and some where the actors play Erik so aggressive and Christine so meek that I can't fathom it. In the 25th anniversary recording idk what they did with Raoul but there's such a distinct lack of warmth or tenderness for Christine that I find myself not wanting them to end up together vs the original recording where Steve Barton is affectionate and kind in his gestures and tone of voice when he speaks to Sarah Brightman. Direction and casting can make a world of difference and nearly every choice made for the 2004 film was completely wrong and even seemingly small changes have a massive impact. I'm not going to talk about Gerard Butler's singing or the lack of significant deformity, there's nothing I can add to that conversation. Casting an actress as young as Emmy Rossum to play in a love triangle between two men in their 30's was a bad decision because there are shots where she seems especially childish and I can't get past the notion that I'm looking at someone who should be in high school. Then there's the decision to show a scene of Erik approaching Christine while she's still a child when it's implied he's only a few years younger than Madam Giry. The dates on the gave stone that imply she's only 16 and....I really want to give the benefit of the doubt and say it's an oversight but the age of the actress and the scene of her as a literal child when she first hears Erik are just too much for me to handwave as "someone made a typo somewhere" the scene where we see some of Erik's backstory where they put him in a sideshow as a small child and he goes directly from childhood to living in the paris opera (How then, did he help BUILD the opera house? Why does he still have the punjab lasso if he's never been outside of Paris? This creates so many plot holes it's ridiculous) and there is some really really uncomfortable, even offensive depictions of Romani people. Carlotta is always meant to sound overblown and unpleasant and sometimes even shrill to the audience but they go the route of emphasizing her as an in-universe bad singer whom no one likes. Minnie Driver does her best to make the role entertaining and she's easily the best thing in the movie but she could not salvage it. The managers also with their stupid "Scrap Metal" running gag, Joel Schuemacher and ALW are determined to make everyone look as stupid and incompetent as possible. Piangi has a little person who mimes him for some reason? It's like they were really adamant that no one be taken seriously except the main cast. Personal opinion but I feel like moving the chandelier crash from the end of act 1 to the climax of the film doesn't work. I guess the "Disaster beyond imagination" Erik talks about was limited to him killing Joseph Bouquet but without that dramatic chandelier fall after the rooftop scene it losses something and undercuts how much of a legitimate threat Erik actually is and how much the staff should fear him because the implication is that despite the dead body dangling from the rafters the managers managed to get things back under control and finish out the performance. Seemingly small changes but they all have a big impact and whatever issues I have with the stage version they are 100 x worse in the movie adaptation and better casting could not have saved the film.
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mak3itr7ght · 4 months ago
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Pair: Jimin x fm!reader
Words count: 1235
A/N: just a very quick and out of contest scenario I imagined after listening 'Who' for the 192939939th time🫡 Hope you like it!
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"Three minutes before getting on stage" the assistent announced before exiting the dressing room.
"Oi, so how was that date?" Hoseok approached his friend and roommate, Jimin. "Who was..oh, yes, that actress"
"I don't even want to talk about that-" Jimin cut his friend out. The older chuckled. "Was it really that bad?" He sat on the chair next to Jimin's, resting his chin the palm of his hand, curious.
"I went back home in the middle of the date because I couldn't stand her- she was so arrogant, and oddly flirty..ew" Jimin frowned at the memory. "What about you? You're not dating in ages, bro, at least i'm trying. You practically gave up" the blondie tried to swap the conversation.
Hobi shrugged. "I'm into my job for now. I don't feel like dating for now. I have this strange sensation, like i have to wait" he murmured, zoning out as he looked at his reflection in the mirror.
"Hyung, you've lived too much in your studio, in my opinion" Jimin joked, making Hobi smak his arm.
"Ouch-" Jimin faked pain, but then leaned against his chair. His hyung's words made him overthink.
"Anyway, let's get on stage, it's the first time we perform in Rome and i want to give a good impression to italian armys~" Hobi jumped on his feet and walked outside the dressing room.
Jimin didn't react to those words, he just heard them and hummed in response, still zoned out in his own mind.
Love, what a strange concept, especially for idols. They used to sign contracts that forced them to not date someone, and then most of them used to do it secretly from anyone. The media were always ruthless when it came to this topic. Even having the same necklaces with a person that probably was just a stranger could start a whole drama. That was truly shit. And, in the end, the whole media player work almost unconsciously pushed idols to search for rumors and scandals to gain more popularity. It was sick and toxic. And thank God Jimin and his friends didn't fall for that, even if there were a lot of temptations. Fame is dangerous, terribly dangerous. Jimin kept wondering if not dating and choosing to focus on himself was the best decision or just unnatural for an idol, because for the audience, idols must date! Not matter about their sexuality, because Jimin knew some asexual and aromantic people, so he started dating here and there, even without putting too much effort.
But that day, Hoseok's words made him realize that maybe not dating was more normal than he thought. Maybe his mind was already subconsciously linked with another woman or man, and that he didn't met him or her yet, just like the lyrics of his song, 'who', which he struggled to write, because, to quote him, 'he even forgot the last time he had a crush'.
The blondie kept mental tripping while rocking on his chair. When Namjoon went inside the room to call him again.
"I'm sorry! I was lost in thoughts!!" Jimin stood up and rushed outside.
Mics checked, in-ear monitors checked, another day, another concert of BTS's comeback tour after their discharge from military service. It was pretty long, many dates in many places of the world, all sold out, of course. And that was the first time the group performed in Italy in almost 13 years of career. What a day. Everyone was excited.
The concert started with their new title of their new album and the hours passed quicker than usual. A small break and then the solo-performances started. Jimin was the fourth, ready to perform 'Who'. He felt a strange sensation, like a tingle in his chest.
"No, i can't die now, come on. At least when I come back at the hotel" he told himself, trying to calm down and joke on that sensation.
And then, there he was, dancing and singing on stage, the choreography was composed to suit the concept of 'I love you, but I didn't even meet you yet', so Jimin had to dance with severals girls trying to find the right one, ending up alone on stage. That night, he felt that song more close to his self. While enjoying the Armys' cheering, shouting, crying and clapping he stared at some of them in the front rows. He loved his fans so much, recognizing his fame, the whole group's fame, was thanks to them. So he always used to look as many of them as he could, trying to remember at least vaguely their faces.
As his eyes met with one of them, that feeling on his chest intensified. I know what y'all are thinking and no, it wasn't like he fell in love, he just felt like he knew her, very deeply, just a veiled sensation, that kind of sensation that you can't even recognize or study enough because it's so delicate and fragile, yet unbreakable, and it's always there, you don't know it at all, but it's there, it gets louder when you're silently trying to sleep, and it gets quiter when your mind just turns off and focuses on the loud daily life. That was the moment Jimin felt that little pinch in his chest and it lasted less than a second. He didn't even see her properly, it was dark, the lights where flashing here and there and he was still boosted by adrenaline. That's why he stayed on stage even more than he had to and felt someone calling him from the backstage, it was Jungkook, ready to start with his 'Standing next to you' performance.
Jimin shook his head and rushed off the stage, quickly forgetting about that trance state he went in unconsciously. He went back in the dressing room where the other members were getting ready. Hobi approached him, a worried look in his eyes. "Oi, Jimin?" The brunette put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "What happened? You seem off all of a sudden" He added.
Jimin just hugged him, out of nowhere.
"What's with this affection??!" Hobi scoffed, patting the younger's back before pulling away. He was slightly more worried at that point.
"I just felt like it.." Jimin commented, as he sat on one of those uncomfy couches near the mirrors.
Hoseok exchanged looks with the other members before looking back at Jimin. "You know what? I think tomorrow we should visit Rome"
"That's risky, we will have to prevent Jungkook from starting acting like a Roman warrior when we'll get into the Colosseum-" Yoongi laughed and the others followed.
Jimin chuckled too. Visiting the city, yeah, it sounded pretty good. Sounded...somewhat, right.
"Now now after the solo-perfromances, there will the the big pause and then the last-quarter of the set list, so let's revise the songs." Namjoon took the paper with the set list while one of the stylists where adjusting his hoodie.
"I think Armys will be happy to hear Airplane pt.2 again~" Taehyung commented while chewing a candy. "The audience is pretty cheering today~ I definitely want to comeback here next time" He added.
"I'll return here to perform The astronaut with Coldplay in a few months~" Jin pointed out, smirking.
"Why we took so long to come here?" Jimin wondered suddenly.
"Don't know, but now we're here and I think we'll have a great time" Hoseok patted his shoulder before standing.
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ay0nha · 11 months ago
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hello :3
i can't stop thinking about nanami being readers biggest cheerleader but on the down low...imagine that reader is outspoken and always gets introuble and because she's a girl is never taken seriously so she gets into trouble for something big and is now "shadowing" nanami to know how to be a "proper" sorcerer !!!! but nanami is pining for reader and does everything to make her "punishment" bearable...can be smut if you're comfortable! but either way I love your writing and what you can do! hope you read this!!!
uwu thank youxxx
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PAIRING: Nanami Kento x f!reader (sorcerer)
WORD COUNT: 3K~
WARNINGS: angst, canon-typical things, mentions of blood, death, injury, etc, innuendos, blink and you'll miss the slight fluff, rushed ending, hope it isn't confusing, etc.
A/N: I ADORE this ask!! I got a little more angsty than I thought with it and @hatsunemitskislobotomy and I have talked LONG about the entire world that could be created around this idea. SO, I think I'm going to make a second part to this (maybe three parts total? we'll see). Thank YOU for your patience. Enjoy.
“Answer the question.”
The brief and concise statement thrown at you mimicked the ones prior. Your reluctance to answer was anticipated; everyone seated before the Jujutsu higher–ups reacted similarly. But the jury surrounding you didn’t have the same empathy for you.
“The answer is obvious, isn’t it?” You were oddly relaxed in the stiff wooden seat. The eyes on you hadn’t made you nervous but instead energized your subtle rage. “Or is our system that dull? Have you truly failed to see who is behind this?”
“Be mindful; your responses have repercussions.” The Jujutsu Commander warned. His position saved you from a scornful vote against your innocence. Yet, those who looked on weren’t too far off. “Were you or were you not responsible for what happened at the Kokuritsu Kokkai Toshokan?”
The framing of your trial was spectacular. All evidence was vindictive, and the story was so perfectly skewed there was no way to worm your way out. Your fate was already sealed.
“You lot ask the wrong questions.” Your laugh was bitter.
“Your admission. Only.” His patience was running thin, his politeness only formality as his tone opposed it entirely.
The truth was a volatile thing. Children were taught that it was essential in life, valued so highly that corrupt justice could manipulate it so finely that you almost believed it yourself. 
Lying, therefore, became a habit. It came naturally as if it was second-hand nature.
The twitch of your lip was poisonous. “Guilty.”
The others murmured at your feigned candor. The whispers were silly, as anonymity never existed for those behind the walls. Every face was bared, burned into your memory by resentment.
Your wrists itched. 
It was as if phantom threads tethered you down. When the knots tightened due to your resistance, you became a marionette for those who put you in your place. You’d move with dexterity as a puppet controlled by those ranked above you. 
Your exhaustion created a silly—delusional— image. Your cheeks were rosy with red paint, and your eyes brightened with Pierrot-styled tears. You performed on a stage silently, an alienated observer of the mysteries and shadows of sorcery.
You took on a second life, reciting an alert, troubled, swaying, and deliberately uncertain verse. It didn’t matter if the audience understood; they considered what you said genuine art. Then, when it all ended, the standing ovation wouldn’t bring you joy but the flowers that waited for you. 
It wasn’t until the third time your name was called that you acknowledged its source. 
“What do you see?” Nanami’s tone was sterile, but you knew he was fighting frustration at your languidity. 
The stone walls were icy, and the lack of sunlight within the church nurtured the cold. Nature started reclaiming every pew, and the stained glass became disfigured. Its evidence of abandonment seemed uneventful—normal. 
“Graffiti.” Your response was dull. 
Effort was a comical notion.
Sorcery required it at times, just as breathing did. The effort now felt good, worth it. The icy air that reached the ends of your lungs stung. Yet, each breath was quieter, the effort only coming in the form of physical mechanics of pushing a warm breath back out that the air around you marked.
Although studied meticulously, its real trait was its vitality.  It shifted and molded. Evolved.  It made even more concrete things seem like rubber, rejecting electricity with an uncanny ability to mold into shapes unknown. It was the type of thing that could be so exciting to happen just to become something so vague that it no longer held value to it.
You felt childish, undermined really, but you knew Nanami was following orders. Yet, your core frustration came from being in the countryside. The higher-ups slowly pushed you out of the city with each mission you were attached to. 
Away from real problems, you were no longer deemed theirs. That distance kept you busy with the unwanted chores of dealing with low-grade curses who were scared of their own shadows. 
“No.” Another wrong answer.  “Look closer.” Nanami urged you, hands tucked away and nodding ahead. “The carvings are in a pattern. Do you recognize it?”
It was an ancient incantation, one that’s effectiveness lessened by time. Most charms were for protective measures, but the spiraled swirl of lettering was fresh. You traced your fingers across the symbols, feeling their lingering heat, only freshly scorched. 
“Cursed user?” Your breath was just shy of being transcribable in the air. 
The temperature was dropping by the second. Something dense settled on your skin in warning. The cursed energy came from multiple points, not able to find a convergence point. Instead, its disharmony grated against itself, creating such a pressure its purpose became overt. 
 In hushed tones, you were careful with your words. “Something is trying to get out.”
“Precisely.” Nanami’s voice echoed lightly, as did his footsteps.  “It has been entirely overlooked…” He explained leading you to the heart of the church. “...I’ve been monitoring this place for months—  
“So this is where you disappear to?” You bubbled, Nanami unintentionally drawing a smile out of you. Your laughter started to grow gently. “…and here I thought someone—a man like you, of your stature, would have—well, you know.”
“I don’t follow,” Nanami answered absentmindedly. His focus was still set on following the etchings and hoping to find any residuals.   
“You value your privacy,” You weighed earnestly. “I don’t blame you for handling your more intimate business away from, well, everything else.” 
Nanami paused. 
After a few heartbeats of hesitation, he caught onto your implications.  There was no reply save for a subtle re-texturing of his breath, the gap between inhalations infinitesimally smaller, the length of his exhalations protracted.
It was nearly imperceptible as Nanami fought to smother it. It may have gone unnoticed, mistaken for concentration. However, to an experienced eye, you watched your words ripple an ever still puddle of emotions.  
With a gentle clear of his throat, Nanami quelled your suspicions. “You’re the only other that knows this exists.” 
“Not even those old conservatives?” You were impressed by his discretion. “Breaking the rules for me, Kento?” 
It was as if you knew how your words tickled Nanami’s sides. They taunted him with childhood memories that made the tips of his ears heat. However, your words cemented that you siphoned your humor through affection. 
Nanami remained practical; any endearment had to be taken at face value. 
“Our visit is to resolve this before they find out.” He ignored you, reaching for his blunt blade. “Now, stand back.”
Cursed energy fluidly surrounded his stature as he conjured his technique.
With sharpened eyes, you took Nanami’s presence in. The suit he wore was filled well.  Even late into the evening, he was always so poised. Professional.  It worked silently, exuding from his presence alone. That magnetism couldn’t be credited to sorcery but to how he evolved, becoming pointed and moving without fault. 
It channeled well into his movements; the swipe of his blade was swift in finding the wall’s weak point. Everything was so well calculated, Nanami remained standing, untouched by the debris that floated around you. 
“Stay close,” He instructed, knowing curses fed off the unanticipated. “Please understand this is for information only.” 
Very little light penetrated the swamp of shadows. That gleam revealed etchings of connected hands. They were conjoined by a thin tongue of brilliant flame that wound its way around the hands like a red-hot wire.  
You stepped carefully, tracing the path Nanami created for you. He mumbled warnings that always came with the unknown, but his voice slowly warbled into a tune you could barely make out. The walls seemed to pull you in, their dissonance filling your senses. 
“It’s warm…” You noted, the oddity furthering your curiosity. Your fingertips burned against the markings.  “It’s like the cursed energy is…is it? It’s–It’s moving.” 
“It’s growing.” Nanami stated. There was a feeling of regret bubbling behind his words, as if reprimanding himself for thinking aloud.  “These confinements can no longer hold it.”
The continued touch burned. 
You flinched, drawing your hand to your chest. The walls were upset by the action, groaning with age and anger. It was sharp and tonal, lacking an echo, its mournful cry resonating with despair. 
“Do you hear that?”  Your question dissipated lamely. Although words were spoken, the sounds around you overlapped. It created a deep and thunderous sense of urgency. 
The noise was luring you into a past that never was. This was the moment before a ship could crash onto the rocks. Your arms felt like lead, weighing down with poisonous consequences. 
The cursed energy pressed into your abdomen from all directions; the air was pushed from your lungs, your rib cage about to crack; your eyes felt forced back into your head; your eardrums swelled pounding within your skull, and then with a crack like a whip you—   
“Are you alright?” Nanami watched you return to yourself. He called for you, but you were lost under the curse’s lure. It wasn’t until he reached for your palm that you sucked in air. “What do you hear?”
You felt a needle of pain in your nose like you were near tears. “It’s—crying.”
The missions on the outskirts were always more condensed. The fresh air was too pure for the deadlier cursed spirits. Their strength had little to latch onto without a dense population to feed on. 
This, however, deviated at the core. It was a mistake that relied on the distance to stay hidden. It was an anomaly that should have never been touched. And yet, it found its new prey. 
Nanami’s grip on you tightened with regret. “This was a mistake—
“No, wait…” Your brows furrowed as you pulled away. “There’s something in here,” You continued, hands reaching for the inner wall’s deterioration. The walls became silent, unwilling to guide you any further.  “We need to exorcise this—
“This was to survey only.” Nanami checked his watch, the hands taunting the idea of overtime. A sinking feeling swirled in his chest. “Exorcising an unknown, most likely, unregistered curse is too unpredictable.” 
A quick solution was never appealing when you were capable of unearthing hidden answers. That novelty fed your reputation of being offensively bold. Even now, as you moved through the unknown, you weren’t afraid of the repercussions. 
Although you were still present, Nanami watched you flee. Your guard returned stronger, but he didn’t regret his words. Nanami’s eyes were pleading, and you went to chastise him, but you found something distinct there. You didn’t know what to do with it, but to muse a buried thought. 
“Why did you bring me here?” The anger you carried felt foreign, rarely, if even, had you directed it towards your counterpart. “Pity? To make me feel better about being benched?”
“You know that’s not—
Years worth of vexation simmered on the surface of your skin. “Save your lecture.”
You weren’t lucky like the others. There wasn’t a defining moment that made you who you were, or something so tragic that its vengeance led to motivation. Your birth was uneventful, your existence logged by a series of numbers and your childhood consisting of mediocre memories. 
Even now, the memory of arriving at Jujutsu Tech was muddled with an indifference put upon you.  It wasn’t for a lack of enthusiasm, but for the way even there, with its rarity and quaintness, you were ignored so blatantly. 
There was never any demureness in how you spoke out.  You dissected the obvious flaws of the teachers and higher-ups, but your voice wasn’t considered the way others were. Your presence only became perceived insolence. You hadn’t cared about the threats offered, even when you were removed from the curriculum entirely.
The lack of lineage attached to your name and rare technique led to reprimands even in adulthood. Your presence with Nananmi was one of them. 
Although not on an official mission, Nanami’s current company was obligatory. Where he went, you were required to shadow, to learn from your mistakes and behave like that of a true first-grade sorcerer.   
After a so-called catastrophe, you were put before the higher-ups. Every grievance was brought forth and judgment determined you were unfit to even advocate for yourself. It was then, those imaginary-thin strings wound around your wrists with permanency. 
You pulled at them the further you ignored Nanami’s warnings. 
“This is why you brought me…” You reminded him of your punishment. For you, even this, was to keep an eye on you. “...isn’t it?” 
With Nanami’s cemented frown, his intentions were further concealed. It didn’t have the capacity to speak of the trip’s impulsivity. It ignored the uncharacteristic apprehension that created knots between Nanami’s shoulder blades; new to the sorcerer celebrated for composure. 
It was rash, but the innate desire clear; Nanami wanted to be behind your reprieve. 
“There are rules and regulations. ” He swallowed any lingering remorse. “They don’t stop for you.”
He mistook his demeanor for bravery, but his true bravery formed by being across from you. The only barrier seemed to be Nanami’s incorruptible moral code, a space where you couldn’t quite freely exist.
“Nanami Kento, the reluctant hero…” You tutted with tender sarcasm. A hand rested above your heart, the same way the elderly read the headline that exploited your name, “...how kind of you to pity a recluse like me.…” 
Your words carried back to Nanami’s core, becoming distant as you furthered into the mess he’d created. The darkness succumbed to your presence, your cursed energy steady as it unknowingly created space for the spirit that lurked. 
Nanami’s lips shaped your name, but all you could hear was a mild ringing, a buzz. Your anger dissipated into a murky haze, the harder you blinked the more the argument dissipated. Even if you had held onto it, the lump in your throat wouldn’t allow it to exist. 
The longer you lingered with the feeling, your surroundings slowly morphed. 
All you could hear was your shaky breaths, and all you could see was a faint familiarity with your surroundings. Even your stumbling steps forward felt practiced. 
“Keep up…” A disharmonious voice called for you. It was airy, like a child filled with excitement. “Hurry!”
The environment was damp, still reflecting the country’s dreariness. It was a good hiding place to play, to sneak, and for you to abuse. But the fog in your mind started to swirl. The colors became deeper, more like shadows that soon transformed into familiar figures. 
The curse’s magnetism was a warning you ignored, causing your pupils to blow large at the burden before you. 
The scene was explicit—nothing could be saved from the carnage. 
There was no use in prayers. The gore set the air with dust that could never settle; a blood-warm heat had set into your marrow, never to be forgotten; it had been dragged to your doorstep like a cat bringing in fowl. 
You recognized your own body from the anguish in your shoulders. Hunched over Nanami’s body as you held him tightly, that lump formed in your throat again. 
The fabricated illusion scratched at subconscious emotions and controlled your movements. Your sentimentality was your weakness. Even your stubbornness couldn’t block the overwhelming flood of anxieties and longing.
You watched yourself stuck in a loop, hand rhythmically gliding across the fabric of his shirt in hopes of softening it. To revive something that was determined to remain still.  Its structure was that of a fever dream, its kaleidoscope quality provoking you to interpret it. 
“Nanami?” You couldn’t tell which version of you spoke. Regardless, his name was like torture. “Nanami—please.”
Your defenses damped, your cursed energy draining the further you succumbed to the hallucination. 
“You can’t leave me—” The wails you let out grated against your skin, unrecognizable as your own. “I can’t do—please, Nanami!”
There was a disillusioned passion you felt. It grounded you within the false reality. Even if your mind wasn’t your own, your body moved with muscle memory. Your cursed energy crawled from your core to your fingertips, using the little amounts to start your technique. 
The blue energy extended like nails. You stalked forward until they met your second-self’s back, piercing through your back until you could feel the breeze on the other side.  
The puncture flashed an image, revealing the truth of your damage. 
The spell you were under broke. The veil no longer misguided you. 
“Nanami—” You cursed his name as he grunted in pain. Your hand was warm with his blood. “Fuck. Fuck—” The words tumbled from your quivering lip. You couldn’t think of anything else, repeating the curse. “I’m so sorry—I—
Guilt crawled up your throat when you recognized his hold on your wrist. Nanami’s grip was the only thing keeping your strike from being lethal. Your mouth was dry, shallow breaths passing your lips with a bargaining plea.  
“No, no, no—” Your vocabulary became limited the further you panicked. “Nanami—
Nanami’s breath struggled, but there was determination on his brow. The copper taste took over his tongue, any warning could never make it out in time. 
Your body froze, more aware of your surroundings than your mind. It happened too quickly to realize the position you put yourself in; in a flash, you pushed Nanami to endure the hit from the curse that had forced your hand. 
The moment your head snapped back against the stone wall, everything went black.
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yuzukahibiscus · 1 year ago
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Jewels of Takarazuka – Yuzuka Rei-san [Flower Troupe] (from Fujingaho May Issue)
This series documents the words of Takarazuka Top Stars, and their strength of living in the current age and Yuzuka Rei of Flower Troupe appears on this month’s issue.  Like a king that shines ever brightly on stage, Yuzuka-san appears on the photoshoot scene and we compliment her for having a flawless beauty like a deer in the wild. Then when she’s standing in front of the camera now, it seems like some kind of story is about to begin… Yuzuka-san speaks with carefully woven words and with a soft voice, talks about what she is thinking now.
Even if the acting is decided already every day, I just love presenting a new vibe to it
The one we admire in Shoujo Manga, the piano magician with fervent fans, the Broadway Star Dancer. With her gorgeous visual and delicate acting, Yuzuka-san brings such beautiful characters you couldn’t see in reality to life. If you watch her stage performances, you’d see that the world of dreams is here now……That’s what I firmly believe. When we interviewed Yuzuka-san, she was challenging to perform the famous work in Takarazuka Revue, the renowned musical of “MAYERLING”. It is about the tragic love story between Austria Crown Prince Rudolf and his lover Mary Vetsera. Yuzuka-san used to express it uniquely, “I don’t want [my performance] to look like it was cultivated artificially but to deliver one that is naturally moving”, so how did she feel when she was working on this famous musical?
“I’ve said that, haven’t I (LOL). I really like fresh air. So in the world that I’m portraying, even though we’d be doing the same things every day… That’s quite the opposite of what I said [about natural acting] (LOL). But even if we’re doing the same things every day, those first encounters and experiences are different every time. In contrast, even though it may be the first time I’m seeing some audience, I can feel that they’re the important people who’ve always known me… Performers and the audience can create some feelings and reactions together that not even we can imagine, and that’s something that I always find enjoyable. The premiere of this performance was 40 years ago. Even though there’s a little change in direction, the prologue song and the choreography was similar to how it was back then. I’d act according to what I understand from the whole setup of the musical. I won’t think about what I think is correct, instead I’ll continue to question my interpretation and delve into it more to act while thinking about it.”
In this musical with such intensity, you’d have to build up so much strength for the ending…
“Amidst the intensity and while continuing to maintain focused, there’s a unique kind of energy in musicals, surprisingly I’m not too overwhelmed by that. But while that builds up and accumulates densely, I think it’s difficult to overcome the “gap” or that “space” when [the tension] couldn’t build up well. Or maybe I should say, that it feels like those Jenga building blocks…… But the concentration the audience have for this musical is higher than before, so I felt that they also helped us create this ambience for us together.”
I want to walk a path that won’t feel like I’m betraying myself
This is perhaps the charm that’s only unique in live performances.
But in these 3 years, the previous situation was still unstable and as a leader she led the troupe to overcome very tough circumstances.
“I really thought that while I’ve been learning, I’ve already walked this far. Even in the same scenarios, I’ve come to learn that depending on people’s circumstances, there would be different feelings and the way we approach things also change. I know that it’s not good to just evaluate things while thinking only of ourselves. If everything was successful, I think it might be difficult to have the experience where everyone aims at “facing wholeheartedly towards stage performances” together…… so I thought I acquired a lot [during this time.] Whatever something happens, I want to be the person that people can trust in. Even if I covered it up, only I would know how I have dealt with that problem. Sometimes I may not know if I’ve made a wrong decision, and I won’t even know if that would be the best decision for that time, yet there must be something that I could learn from in failure. That’s why, I’ve decided not to do things that would make me lose confidence in myself. I often say be confident in yourself, but it’s difficult to believe in yourself without evidence. “Trust” might be a slightly different word, but I don’t try to deceive myself, instead I worked hard for it desperately… I wish I could feel that way without any hesitation,  and I would want to say that my underclassmen self when I was still trying to find that confidence.”
That delicate and soft feeling may be different from what she said a few years ago about “wanting to face my weaknesses earnestly”. 
“When we act, we think about humans, but it’s difficult to comment on whether they’re strong and weak. If they’re “weak”, they may seem negative at first glance, but they also may be someone that has great observation, a profound imagination,  and that they sincerely care only for a particular something. So “strengths” and “weaknesses” are two sides of a coin. If one believes too much that “I am strong”, that may instead lead to this pushing force that overwhelms oneself. So I’d say, it’s fine to be weak. Because humans are not born to be perfect. Rest a little, recover yourself, find your strategy to face your next task. When you find that strategy, if someone else has troubles, you could then help them. When I was playing as Rudolf, I really felt how greatly people impact others. That’s probably why I have such thought.”
Embracing her internal weaknesses with that resilient strength bestows her with the persuasion capacity on stage. Perhaps the Flower Troupe stage performances she lead will continue to shine radiantly.
MY JEWEL ~The jewel of the heart~
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This is a photo of my nephew and my dog. “Even though they don’t always meet, but when they do, they’d always take a walk. My dog loves my nephew and is always smiling. My nephew leads the dog carefully like an adult when they walk together and I can slowly feel his growth. Now as I’m playing as Rudolf, I’d have to say, “Because of everyone’s great love, I have also progressed and grown.”
ON STAGE...
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“ENCHANTEMENT –A Luxurious Perfume–” is a stylish  revue with perfume as the theme. This is a Takarazuka-styled revue wound in the gorgeous world of black tailcoats, silk hat and cane. Apart from singing and dancing, you could see her sometimes chic and sometimes sexy, that you couldn’t miss her out in any instant.
Next stage: Musical Romance “A Battlefield for the Two of Us” (Author/Director: Masatsuka Haruhiko)
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In a stage of a fictitious federation formed by numerous autonomous states, this is about a young military officer with burning passions and how he struggles between the gap of the country and the individual, portraying his story of an “unacceptable” love and great friendship. Yuzuka-san says, “It’s very interesting learning from the rehearsal of Masatsuka (Hirohiko)-sensei’s musical. “War” is still sometimes that is relevant to us in this age, so I will cherish the importance of performing this production and do my best to create this production.”
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alearicci · 1 year ago
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“I'm proud of you, sebastian vettel” – SV5
pairings: sebastian vettel x girlfriend!y/n
summary: Sebastian was ready to win the race and dedicate the trophy to you, but something went wrong.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
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To the applause of the supportive audience, Sebastian Vettel was preparing for another exciting Formula 1 race. Aiming for victory, he had high hopes for a successful day on the track. The training went more than well, the team took into account all the features of the track and corrected some details in the car, in qualifying he became second, which gave him a big advantage, and weather conditions allowed him to set a good time and get a place on the podium.
The satisfaction of a job well done remained inside him throughout this pre-race time, increasing his confidence in winning the upcoming Grand Prix. There was still time before it started, and therefore, Seb decided to spend these hours as productively and usefully as possible.
The mood was at its height, it could not but rejoice. He smiled at everyone who appeared on his way, was as friendly as possible and even signed the largest number of posters, caps and T-shirts for the last five Grand Prix.
Communicating with his fans, signing countless souvenirs and posing for photos, Vettel felt deeply grateful for their unwavering support. Their enthusiasm fueled his determination and lifted his spirits even more, encouraging him not to make the fans disappointed in him. The connection he shared with his fans reminded him of why he loved racing, and of the great joy they brought both to him and his followers.
With every autograph and light conversation, Vettel's expectation before the race grew. He knew that his performance during qualifying had laid a solid foundation, but he also understood that the real test was still ahead. The desire to turn his efforts into a victory intensified in him, and he mentally prepared for the challenges that awaited him on the track. The track is not easy, you need to combine speed and ride quality so as not to fly into the gravel.
When it came time to get into the car, Vettel's thoughts were filled with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. The realization that he has a great potential for victory, combined with the support of the fans, caused him such a pleasant, such a necessary adrenaline rush. He imagined with a sinking heart how he would be the first to cross the finish line, how he basked in the rays of glory, celebrated the victory with his team and, returning to the hotel room, rejoiced at the trophy with his beloved girlfriend y/n.
Y/n.
Y/n became everything to him. For him, she was not just a girl with whom he was in a relationship; she was his support, his soul, his personal happiness, his number 1 fan and the source of the greatest support.
Whenever Sebastian thought of y/n, a warm, tender feeling swept over his heart, making it beat much faster. Her bright smile was always in front of my eyes in difficult moments. Her eyes shone with love and understanding. She could always brighten up even the darkest and most terrible days.
He truly treasured every moment they spent together; every moment when their laughter echoed through the air, and their souls danced in perfect harmony.
Y/n's unwavering faith in Sebastian's abilities as a Formula 1 driver was one of the things that fueled his determination on the race track. He knew that before every race she would be very close, her unwavering support would be felt through the crowd. The thought that she was encouraging him from the outside, that her eyes were fixed on him with unshakable faith, filled him with a feeling of love and appreciation for this girl.
In those precious minutes before the race, when tension and adrenaline coursed through his veins, Sebastian closed his eyes and imagined y/n's face. He could almost feel her gentle touch, her fingers gently touching his cheek, whispering words of encouragement that resonated deep in his soul. It was as if she was next to him, her presence enveloped him in a cocoon of love and tranquility.
"You'll do fine, Seb. I'm here and I love you more than life."
It seems that this time the nerves are seriously making themselves felt, since he even imagines her voice. The Ferrari driver shook his head slightly, as if bringing himself to his senses. But then the voice of the racing engineer was heard.
"y/n asked for headphones to wish you good luck, we couldn't refuse her. "
"So it didn't seem like it..."
" What?"
"Nothing. Can you hear me?"
"It's okay. We are ready to win."
"Ready."
However, fate had other plans for the famous racer.
From the moment the lights went out, which marked the start of the race, it became obvious that this time the Grand Prix would not go according to one pre-conceived scenario with Sebastian.
Almost at the very beginning there was a series of annoying incidents, because of which he noticeably lagged behind in the race. The car's engine struggled with all its might, trying not to let the driver down, and his skillful maneuvers met the resistance of opponents. With each lap passed, the dream of a satisfactory finish slipped further away. The dream of a happy y/n was slipping further and further away.
When the race reached its climax and there were only a few laps left, Sebastian's car collided with another driver. The impact was strong, forcing the German to lose control of the car and crash into the fence. This seemingly insignificant collision was enough for his car to go off the track.
This incident was the last blow in an already disappointing race for Sebastian.
He groaned loudly in frustration and closed his eyes.
Racing engineer: "Sebastian, are you okay?"
Vettel: (Breathing heavily) "I'm fine, but the car got hit. Can you hear me?"
Racing engineer: "Sebastian, we hear you loud and clear. Are you sure you're okay? It was a strong blow. Stay calm, help is on the way."
Vettel: "I'm a little shaken up, but physically I'm fine, apart from a couple of minor scratches. The car is damaged, I was very unwound."
Racing Engineer: "Glad to hear you're okay, Seb. This is the most important thing. We'll check on you as soon as possible. Now let's assess the damage to the car. Do you see any serious problems?"
Vettel: "The front wing is completely missing, and the suspension on the right side is damaged. I can't move the car right now."
Racing Engineer: "OK, Seb. Stay put and the rescue team will arrive to you soon. We will assess the damage and see if the car can be repaired. Remember, safety comes first. We'll get you back on track as soon as we can."
“Damn, these conversations only make it worse. I immediately imagine myself as a small child being scolded for disobedience,” Sebastian thought and took off his gloves first, and then his helmet.
Rescuers arrived quickly enough. They helped him out, and later took care of the car.
Soon Sebastian was standing in the paddock and watching the engineers work. It was clear to him that he would not return to the race, but a tiny, very small hope still glimmered in his soul.
The team leader saw his thoughtfulness and came up behind him, lightly slapping him on the shoulder.
"The car was seriously damaged and it cannot be repaired in this race. We're going to have to drop out of the race, Sebastian. I'm sorry."
"I'm disappointed, but I understand. It happens in races and it's a miracle that no one was injured."
"Of course, Seb. Races can be unpredictable, and accidents can happen. It is important that you are safe and we will analyze what happened to prevent similar incidents in the future."
"Yes, you're right. I'll take it as an experience and come back even stronger. Thank you for your support."
"That's right, Seb! We are always here to support you. Take the time to relax and regroup. We will review the data again and discuss it with the team.
"I always appreciate the efforts and dedication of the team. Let's keep moving forward and strive for better results next time."
"Of course, Seb. We believe in you. Keep your head up and remember: every challenge is an opportunity for growth.
The man was about to leave when he suddenly stopped and slapped his forehead.
'I completely forgot, y/n is waiting for you at the medical center, she was very nervous about your accident."
Sebastian's heart skipped a beat.
He took off abruptly and ran to the medical center as fast as he could. He needed to see y/n right now. The withdrawal from the race instantly faded into the background.
His mind was filled with a mixture of emotions—fear, guilt, and a desperate need to comfort his girlfriend. He replayed the accident over and over in his head, wanting to turn back time and prevent it. In a split second, Sebastian lost control of his car, unable to avoid a collision with the fence. He was shocked by the blow, feeling the weight of disappointment grow.
Right now, he wasn't thinking about anything but y/n. The rider's heart was about to jump out of his chest.
Y/n could barely stand on her feet when she saw the incident with Seb with her own eyes. She felt a surge of anxiety and fear, knowing that Sebastian's safety was paramount. Her hands trembled slightly, and she instinctively clutched the cold metal railing. Deep down, she knew that accidents are an inherent risk in sports, but personally watching this was probably the most terrible experience of her life.
Y/n's heart ached for Sebastian, knowing how much he had invested in the race. She wanted to offer him support and comfort at this moment, but knowing that he needed space to process his emotions changed her mind. The girl understood the difficulties of this sport and was ready to overcome the ups and downs with her beloved.
Seeing Sebastian being helped out of the car, y/n staggered violently, causing the others present to be horrified. She had had to deal with similar experiences before, but lately her morale left much to be desired.
"y/n, are you, are you okay?"
"I'm not feeling well..."
"Take her to the infirmary immediately. Apparently, she was too upset because of Seb," the lead engineer said decisively, and a nearby guy gently took y/n by the elbow, leading her to the nurse on duty.
The kind woman measured all the data she needed and recommended y/n to be less nervous so as not to ruin her health.
Y/n barely refrained from answering her: "Try to be less nervous yourself when you dating Sebastian, damn it, Vettel"
"Just sit here for another ten minutes so I can make sure you're okay, okay, miss?"
"Yes, of course."
The silence and peace of the room was abruptly interrupted by the opening of the door. Sebastian arrived at the first aid station, breathing heavily after a fast and intense run. His eyes scanned the room with lightning speed until they settled on y/n, sitting on a stretcher, accompanied by medical staff.
Y/n raised her head, her face pale and full of worry. As soon as their eyes met, Sebastian's anxiety evaporated, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief. She's fine. Not unconscious, anyway.
Seb sighed and carefully approached his beloved, hugging her as gently as he could.
He nuzzled her neck, inhaled her native scent, and for a moment felt at home.
Y/n was the whole world to him and he wanted to keep this world.
"Hush, my love. It's all good. Are you okay?"
"Yes, yes, apart from leaving the race, how do you feel?"
"It's okay, it's just that someone made me a little nervous. "
Sebastian chuckled softly. Even in such a situation, his y/n knew how to keep a sense of humor.
"Let's go to the hotel. We need to take a break from the events of today." Vettel said and, without waiting for an answer, took y/n in his arms, not forgetting to thank her and say goodbye to the nurse.
***
As soon as Sebastian and y/n crossed the threshold of their hotel room, Seb exhaled wearily and, leaning his back against the door, rolled down it.
Y/n smiled sadly and squatted down. She reached out and gently stroked Sebastian's cheek, then bent down and covered his lips with her own in a light kiss.
"You definitely need a shower, Mr. Vettel. Come on, I'll help you. Come on, get up, my champion."
Sebastian smiled weakly, but obediently got up from his seat and wandered towards the bathroom.
While he was taking off his racing suit, y/n had already managed to change into a swimsuit and prepare soap accessories.
He slowly made his way to the shower stall, allowing himself some time alone to collect his thoughts. The piercing jets of water flowing out of the shower head beckoned him, promising comfort to his tired body and mind.
Seeing her boyfriend standing under the falling water, y/n felt that he needed something more than just physical relief. She cautiously entered the bathroom and approached him, her presence bringing a soothing calm to the room. Cautiously approaching closer, y/n reached out and ran her fingertips through Sebastian's wet hair, massaging his scalp with gentle love and care. Then she washed off the foam and moved to her back, kneading the hard muscles with her tiny palms.
Sebastian closed his eyes, feeling his tension melt away as y/n continued to work her magic. The warmth of the water combined with y/n's attentive touch created a safe harbor for him, allowing him to get rid of the pressure of an unsuccessful race. He sighed contentedly, feeling the tension dissolve with each passing moment.
As the water dripped down his face, Sebastian turned to y/n and his eyes finally met hers. A deep feeling of gratitude filled his heart, and he whispered softly:
"Thank you, my love. Your presence and your touch bring me unspeakable comfort. I do not know what I would do without you."
Y/n smiled warmly, her eyes shining with love and admiration. She replied:
"Seb, you are a real warrior on the race track, but even warriors need time to do great things again. I'm here to support you in every way possible. Let the water purify not only your body, but also your mind. I'm here with you. And I will always be there when you need me, my love "
Feeling an overwhelming feeling of love and understanding, Sebastian wrapped y/n in a gentle, but no less wet embrace. He closed his eyes, cherishing their bond as the water continued to wash away the remnants of the race, leaving him rested and ready for whatever challenges lay ahead. At that moment, he realized that he had found the greatest reward in her face.
When the shower was over, y/n handed Sebastian a snow-white towel, which he wrapped around his thighs, after which she changed into drier and homey clothes.
Vettel himself did not keep himself waiting, after a few minutes he was sitting on their bed dressed in a T-shirt and shorts.
"Honey... Can we lie down together for a while?" Seb asked a little awkwardly, even though it was the last thing that would make him embarrassed.
" Of course, Seb." Y/n smiled warmly and, after taking a few steps, settled comfortably on the bed.
Sebastian smiled gratefully and settled comfortably on her chest, listening to the measured heartbeat.
The girl gently stroked his hair, lightly massaged the scalp, relieving all the tension accumulated during the day.
"I'm proud of you, Sebastian Vettel. No matter what defeats, no matter what setbacks, you will always be number one for me. It's just a bump on the road and you'll be back on track much stronger than you were before. You gave it your all. We all have days when things don't go according to plan, but that doesn't detract from your talent and skill. In my eyes, you will always be a champion. I love you more than life, Seb."
As if putting a big and important point in her words, y/n smiles and kisses Sebastian on the forehead.
They have each other, which means they will cope with all difficulties together.
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rraaaannnn · 1 year ago
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Crowded places
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How did i recognize you in the crowded place? My eyes were full of you
She plays her guitar while looking at one person among the crowded people
She feels the lyrics of the band's song while moving her fingers skillfully on her guitar
She closes her eyes while singing in a low tone with the lead singer of the band and imagines that she is spending some time with you
Why is she obsessed with you?
On the crowded train
The owner of the guitar and short hair sit on one of the train seats while she looks at you while you are standing and playing with a random kid on the train
She is smiling at herself after you laughed loudly from your mouth after the child did something funny and she could not bear your laughter and now she puts her hand over her mouth to lower her voice
Minjeong always saw you on the train. Minjeong stared at you day after day until she was impressed by your spontaneity and kindness to people
You have become part of my routine
She takes a look at her guitar and then looks again at the only person who filled her eyes to see her looking elsewhere and not keeping her eyes on the stage. She is thinking that maybe you are tired of the music concert
To look up where you look to see that you are looking at the high lights
You were the light in the place where you were, but I was not disturbed by your bright light
The professor is explaining the lesson while the girl with the short hair is focusing on your beauty while you are sleeping in class
She wishes she could silence the professor to make you sleep more restfully
I feel comfortable just looking at you sleeping, how about I sleep next to you
Guitar Girl heads to the back of the stage while taking her guitar off her back and putting it in her bag
Guitar Girl wipes the sweat from her forehead while her mind wanders a little to you. While everyone else was focused on her performance, she was focused on you until you left the concert and Guitar Girl began to think about your going
The guitar girl came back to reality after she heard her band cheering and screaming, expressing their joy at their performance and the interaction of the audience consisting of students from their university
''Are you okay? Don't worry, you did a good job with your performance, cheer up. We will meet some guests’’
The lead singer of the band told her while reassuring her friend, the guitar girl
''I'm fine Jimin, you know it's just because I'm an introvert that I don't know how to deal with people''
It's not a lie and it's not the truth. The guitar girl was thinking about you the most
In my imagination, I imagined that I spoke to you without fear
The band talked to their guests behind the stage while the guitar girl looked at them with a slight smile. She was a little shy, but interacted well, while the band talked about the guitar girl's introversion
The guests were mostly classmates, old fans of the band, and close friends of the band. The band members began to blend in with the other people, so the guitar girl decided to lean on one of the wooden pillars of the stage
Guitar Girl felt someone start walking towards her so she started thinking about how she was going to keep the conversation going
''You are the guitarist known as Winter… Hello, I am your biggest fan''
Finally the guitar girl looked up at the person to see the person who filled her thoughts and was causing her to wander off most of the time
She doesn't understand it yet. She thinks it's still in her imagination
She looks at you and you smile that bright smile that she used to see you giving to random people, now you're giving it to her
''You're hot when you play your guitar''
The guitar girl is speechless that the girl of her dreams is talking to her now and telling her that she is hot, while she was imagining the situations with her in her imagination as a delusional and hopeless person
''I'm sorry, I think I said too much… I'm sorry if I exaggerated what I said to you. I just want to tell you that I'm a fan of yours''
You give her the worried look she always saw you give a university professor when you enter his class late
Many things happen in one minute of her meeting with you that make her unable to speak. She does not want to waste this opportunity, but she feels as if she is the fan who has just met her favorite artist
But I'm a coward when it comes to you
Guitar Girl hated her introversion, but she knew it wasn't her fault. But it was because of you. Yes you. She felt as if she spoke to you, she would wake up from her dream. But unfortunately,she lost the opportunity to talk to you. She continued to stare at you while saying in a voice close to a whisper that she was grateful to you. Until the lead singer Jimin came to you and started apologizing for the guitar girl's introversion, and she talked to you until she said goodbye and asked the guitar girl if she was okay
Now she can't see you, she's trying not to think about you or imagine you near her because she thinks you think she's weird
She will try to ignore the sound of your laughter on the train and your sleeping face in the lessons, and forget that she lost the opportunity to talk to you
Until you entered, as usual, late for the professor's class
Guitar Girl kept her eyes on her note to make her forget you. She knows that her efforts are desperate, but she is also trying to punish herself for not asking for your number that day
The chair moves next to her and then she looks at the chair next to her to see that you are moving the chair closer to hers while saying in your sweet voice that she ignored her on the train for several days to punish herself
''Hey…hello again, I can still talk to you as a classmate, right?''
The guitar girl couldn't help but nod her head quickly before she realized what was happening to her again
''Thanks…I'm Y/N''
You extended your hand to shake hers
She shook your hand in return and cleared her throat before her name came out of her mouth
‘’Minjeong’’
You answered her while still holding her hand
''I know…''
The second you talked to me, you made me want to be social just for you
Minjeong feels like she's still in a dream. Two weeks ago, you were sitting next to her and she saw you trying to talk to her. Minjeong started to react a little to your conversation. Of course she wants to talk to you, but she feels shy. Nobody can blame her. Turns out, the person she's always thought of knows her and knows her music
Minjeong couldn't help but fall in love with you even more
She feels jealous of your friends now. How can they have someone like you for a long time? Someone who is kind, beautiful, spontaneous, and a bit foolish. She wants to spend more time with you. Before you talked to her, she was in love with you, and after talking to her, she became obsessed with you
I'm shy to talk to you, but I want to hug you so I can feel our souls touching
Lead singer Jimin enters after the end of the class and approaches Minjeong
From what you heard from their conversation, the band couldn't practice, so the lead singer gave her the key to the practice room
You were standing, putting your bag on your shoulder while looking at Minjeong, looking deeply at the key
Finally, after Minjeong gathered all her strength to ask you this simple question
''Do you want to practice with me?''
You walk behind Minjeong while admiring the paintings on the wall in the hallway
Minjeong finally opened the door and turned on the lights
''Wow…this place is amazing!''
You said as you walked towards the drums and gently touched them with your finger, making Minjeong smile at your reaction
''I'm glad you like it''
Minjeong says as she puts on her guitar strap and begins to test the sound
''You're kidding me! Of course I'll like it here. You make the music I listen to every day in this place!''
Minjeong blushes at the fact that you listen to her every day when she thought you only knew her name
''Are you going to play now?''
You asked her while now pointing your finger at her
"I mean, it's a little awkward training in front of you"
“Come on, Minjeong, you played in front of the university!”
That's why Minjeong feels Shy because it's only you. What if her eyes expose her as she looks at you while she's playing? What if it becomes clear how much she likes you?
‘’Instead, why don't you try it?’’
Now it's Minjeong's turn to ask
''It's not because I love the guitar that means I'm good at playing it''
You tell her while approaching her
''Don't worry, I will teach you''
Now Minjeong takes off the guitar and brings a chair closer to hers, then puts her guitar on you
Five minutes passed and Minjeong was teaching you and you were failing. This is normal for someone who hasn't touched a guitar in her entire life, but you hate it when you don't master something quickly and that's what Minjeong noticed in you
''Okay, don't worry, I'll help you''
Minjeong stood up from her chair and stood behind yours, bending down so she could carry the guitar with you. You felt her finger touch yours
“It will be tiring for you to stay like this”
You move forward from your chair until you leave a space behind you
''Sit behind me because I'm serious about learning how to play from you.''
The room started to get hotter, you were now blushing at each other
The feeling of Minjeong's breath behind you made you so weak that you would have almost dropped the guitar if Minjeong hadn't held it tight, causing you to lean back and slam your back against Minjeong's chest
You almost passed out if Minjeong didn't calmly start teaching you when the two of you could feel the tension
This tension is what I prefer
Minjeong sits outside in her apartment and can see her neighbors' rooftops as well
Her apartment was small enough for her and enough for her thoughts. She was trying to learn a new song until she received a message from her friend Jimin
All she understand from the message is that you are invited to the same party as Jimin's and that you are drunk and calling Minjeong's name
Minjeong arrives at the house where the party is being held
She didn't notice you there, but when Jimin saw her, she pointed her finger towards the backyard of the house, and there were some people around you
One of the people around you saw Minjeong approaching you, which made them whisper that you weren't just drunk, maybe you were dating
''Looks like they're really dating!''
Someone said it loudly, causing Minjeong to look at him with a cold look
Minjeong was about to grab your shoulders and talk to you if the party host didn't come in the middle
''Winter, I didn't know that you would actually accept my invitation and come to the party. I appreciate that''
Winter was Minjeong's nickname in college and the group, so most people call her Winter. This is not important. What is important is that Minjeong received an invitation without knowing, which made her ask in a slightly confused tone
''Am I invited?''
Minjeong was invited, but she didn't open the message, so she doesn't know, and she basically doesn't like noisy parties, but she didn't want to be rude and say that she didn't come to the party, but rather she came for you
Everyone knows that the party host, Selena, has a crush on Minjeong, so everyone starts whispering that it's like a reality drama
After Minjeong thanked Selena for the invitation, she skipped past her before something else could stop her to hold your hand
‘’Y/N…’’
Minjeong said in her sweet voice while looking at you. It took you some time to get to know her since you were drunk
''Mini is that you?Minjeong what a coincidence what are you doing here…look you guys Mini is here!''
Minjeong laughs as she pulls you closer to her because she feels like she wants to protect you from anything and keep you close to her
She also blushes at the fact that you created her own nickname for her
''Are you okay here?''
''Sure, Minnie, do you want to drink with me?''
''No, I'd rather keep my eyes on you''
This sentence made people whisper more and believe that you are dating, but Minjeong only cares about staying with you and protecting you from everyone here
I want to listen to you while you're drunk, but alone
''I told you it was locked''
Minjeong stands with her hands clasped as she looks at you with a look that says you should have listened to me
''Nuh…there must be something wrong, I always went in the middle of the night and bought some ice cream''
Minjeong points to the closed ice cream shop
''Nuh uh?You insist it's not closed''
You texted Minjeong that you wanted some ice cream in the middle of the night, and since she lives near you, you wanted her to accompany you. Minjeong was telling you that the place was definitely closed and that it would be useless to go there, but you definitely wouldn't listen to her
You knew that Minjeong didn't like to leave her house much, but you forced her and now you regret it
''If you didn't want to hang out with me that much, you could have rejected me!''
''Y/N it's not like that-''
You cup her cheeks with your hands
''Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring you out of your shell and make you uncomfortable. I won't do it again. Just don't get mad at me, okay?''
With the moonlight you can see the cheeks that you are holding in your hands are blushing
''How could I be? Y/N I…''
Minjeong's feelings are overflowing now, she doesn't care if you reveal them or not, even when she scolds you, you make sure she's okay
''Can you believe that somehow I can't get angry just because it's you?''
You move your hands away from her cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear
''Look at you, you're so soft now, as if you weren't complaining about me a while ago''
''Don't blame me, you're the reason for this. You are the only one who can do these twists and turns in me…”
Minjeong says while wishing herself that she could stay with you longer
''Well, anyway, I promise not to take you out of your comfortable home like this again…''
Minjeong's expression changed quickly. Although she was right that the store was closed, it seemed that this sentence stirred a large wave of emotions within her, causing her to grab your shoulders while pulling you towards her
''Don't promise me things like that Y/N, I want to hang out with you more. I even want to get to know you and spend more time with you. You don't know how much comfort and love I feel when you're around…just let me know if you ever want me''
Now there are two idiots blushing under the moonlight
Even if we are in the same place, stay close to me
You're sitting on the station's waiting platform, after your friends filled the minibus with gasoline in the middle of the night to complete the journey, while Minjeong sits next to you humming some tunes and the crickets add rhythm
''I feel like I'm ruining the day…''
Minjeong stops humming at your random confession
‘’Hmm?’’
''The trip is for your group of friends. Why should I come? What if they want to talk about something special for themselves or make a special memory for you, I shouldn't have come''
Minjeong shook her head slightly and looked at the station and the silence that prevailed in the place
''You don't have to talk to them''
She tells you quietly
You turn to look at her with wide eyes. Does this mean that she agrees with you?
After being silent for a while,she asked you
''Who invited you to the trip?''
''You…’’
“Then the only thing you have to care about the whole trip is me”
''Huh…?’’
You ask stupidly, making Minjeong let out a small laugh from her mouth
''If they want to make a memory for the group, I want them to see my memory with you, and if they don't want you in the memory, I want to make you in my memory, and if they don't want you, I want you''
''So what's the summary?''
You asked her while smiling at her beautiful laugh that you swear you will never get enough of
''I want you''
She said her sentence after she finished laughing
''Then I'm all yours''
You smile at her while making sure not to lose sight of every inch of her face, and this is what makes her look back at you with love
''Really Y/N…you're all mine?''
She asks you in the voice that made you fall in love a thousand times
You were about to answer, until a friend called you while you were in your own world to inform you that they had finished buying supplies and filling up with fuel, so it was time to complete the trip
She stands first and then extends her hand to you. You held it and then she stood in turn. She let go of her hand because you thought she gave you the hand just so you could stand, but she held your hand stronger and then said
''Sit next to me the whole trip, I don't want to take glimpses the whole trip so I can see you.''
Now you share the same wired headphones, while you are listening to a playlist, you look out the window as you feel a weight on your shoulder and your eyes meet her small head to hear Minjeong repeating the words of the song in a low voice
After your minibus stopped at a small, cheap hotel, at the hotel reception you were behind Minjeong, playing with the medal hanging in the guitar bag she was wearing
After everyone went to their shared rooms, Minjeong turned to you
Which made you ask after you noticed that everyone was not there
''where is everybody?''
Minjeong laughs at the fact that you were so engrossed in playing with the medal
''They went…to their shared room''
''Then let's catch up with them''
It wasn't embarrassing for Minjeong a while ago, but now she feels embarrassed that she has to tell you that she won't go with everyone
''There's no need to follow them…you and I share a room''
Now there are two idiots again blushing at the hotel reception
Now you are both standing without moving, looking at the bed that is barely enough for one person
The hotel room was so small, that you both started to wonder if the receptionist felt pity and gave you the small storage room
After you both changed into more comfortable clothes for sleeping, you stood up to see if your phone was getting a signal, while Minjeong was lying crosswise on the bed with her head leaning against the wall and her leg slightly outside the bed
''There is no hope…there is no sign''
You sighed after putting your phone away and started approaching the bed
''It's bedtime, anyway''
You add to your words, then Minjeong asks you seriously
''How can we sleep on this bed…both of us?''
You want to mess with her a little
''You don't want me to sleep with you?''
''No… wait, I mean I want to sleep with you, what-what I mean is that I have no problem with sleeping-Do you want to sleep with me?''
You like her stuttering reaction so you decide to turn up the heat a little
''Of course, who doesn't like sleeping with you?''
The first thing you notice getting red is her ears
You are putting gasoline on the fire now
''All yours, don't forget''
Now you swear you see red rays coming from Minjeong
''I'll…sleep…goodnight''
You smile one last smile, then look at her as she stands to lie next to you, but with her back to you
You are lying against the wall, but you are looking at her back. You see that she forgot to cover herself, so you share your blanket with her, and you share the same pillow
Time passes and you're still awake. You can't sleep. You're thinking about her while she's by your side. You're grateful that you gained the courage to talk to her that day
While you are looking at her back with sleepy eyes, Minjeong moves in her sleep to meet your face. A tired smile appears on your face. How can she be so beautiful while she is sleeping? You thank your life for providing you with such a beautiful view before sleep
Minjeong slowly opens her eyes and calmly looks at you, as if she is also enjoying the sight of you in front of her
''you did not sleep?''
You swear you fall in love every time you hear her voice, but this is your first time hearing her voice this way
''No…what woke you up?''
You ask her when you feel her getting a little closer
''I have not slept yet…''
''Why? Is something bothering you? Are you uncomfortable? Let me know so I can make you more comfortable and sleep comfortably. You deserve to sleep-''
''I want to hug you''
Minjeong's response stops you from worrying about her, and makes you stay silent for a moment and then slowly wrap your arms around her while Minjeong crawls a little towards you so that she can sleep sharing your warmth
''Is there something that scares you?''
You ask while softly stroking her back, causing her to put her head into your shoulder while whispering in an almost inaudible voice
''Yes''
''what is it?''
''To be far away from me…''
Her answer always makes you want to cry. You put a little pressure on her to make her closer to you and to let her know that you will never be far from her and that you will always stay by her side
In this warm position, you drift off to sleep, and the last thing you feel is the mixed beating of your hearts
I want to live with you, to wake up with you every day this way
Minjeong wakes up still feeling you in her arms, you were still asleep and she looks at you while asking herself how your sleeping face could make her feel this way
A falling lock moved away from your face, making you move a little until your eyes finally started to wake up. Now it's your turn to ask yourself how Minjeong's face, when you were just awake, could make you feel this way
''Good morning, cutie''
Minjeong's deep voice can lull you into a coma
''morning…''
You reply in an almost inaudible voice as you pull the blanket towards your face to hide your reddened face from the morning, making your eyes the only thing Minjeong sees
“We have to change our clothes, they are waiting for us”
Someone mentioned your name, and looked at me
The group on the trip gathered around the warm fire as they sat and talked about random things until the question came up: What do you like in a person?When it came time to say your qualities, they all looked at Minjeong
''The thing I love about Y/N…''
Minjeong looks at you as she sees you trying to put the marshmallow on the cookie while slowly blowing on it
''Her pure soul''
Minjeong is still looking at you. She forgot that there were other people in the place. She sees that you are not paying attention to the conversation and all you are focusing on is how to eat the hot marshmallow
After the friends commented on Minjeong's comment, it was your turn. There were question marks about the question because you were not listening to the conversation, which made Minjeong laugh lightly.
What do you like about Minjeong?
''Her''
You looked at Minjeong with a blush while she looked at you with the same blush. Minjeong couldn't handle the situation so she covered her face with her sleeve while you leaned back on the chair, hoping your scarf covered your reddened cheeks
''Oh look they're blushing''
One of the group's friends points at you, causing you to respond in the same tone
''It's just the reflection of fire!''
Looking at the clouds and waiting for the raindrops, but I was waiting for our moment together
You hear the raindrops while you are still in that cheap hotel, enjoying the silence and the raindrops. An idea comes to your mind and you quickly straighten it out.
''What's with you?''
Minjeong asks as you climb into your shared bed
''Do you want to go out with me…in the rain?''
You ask while putting on your shoes
''What? We will get wet!
"I know that's why we went out. There's nothing better than the feeling of rain falling on your body."
You say as you stand up and wait for her to join you
''Aren't we going to get sick?''
''We'll get sick, but it's worth a try''
Minjeong walks behind you and there is a slight annoyance on her face. She doesn't like getting wet from the rain, but she wants to spend time with you, so she doesn't care if she likes it or not. All that matters to her is you.
''Are you sure you don't want an umbrella?''
Minjeing stays inside the hotel while looking at the part of your body outside in the rain
''The pleasure lies in getting my body wet''
You say as you fully expose yourself under the raindrops in the cool night air
You raise your hands while feeling the coldness of the raindrops starting to put stains on your clothes. You laugh at this feeling. The loud sound of your laughter along with the raindrops made the person standing looking at you and holding the umbrella want to make music from your voice.
Minjeong looks at you and thinks about how she got to this point of love with you
Minjeong closes the umbrella, not taking her eyes off of you
Minjeong moves closer to you and you also feel the water droplets start to spread on her and get her wet. You holds her hand and starts jumping and spinning with her. As the sound of the rain becomes stronger, so does the sound of your laughter.
You hear the sound of rain, and you want Minjeong to hear your feelings
''I like you Minjeong!''
You can see Minjeong's pupils getting bigger, so you decide there's no going back in confessing to her.
''No,i dont like you, I'm actually in love with you, you don't know how much I love you!''
Even though you're afraid of rejection, and you're afraid that Minjeong won't like your words, you continue to confess with a weak smile.
''The moment I met you backstage, I just wanted to tell you that I am a fan of the music group, but I did not expect that the opportunity to confess my feelings to you would come. I have become more in love with you than a fan. I want you…I want to be yours. I love you.''
Now you stand still, holding her hands and looking at her weakly. Will your relationship with her end? No longer moving. She seems to be in shock.
Then it happens in one second, Minjeong pulls your hand to her shoulders while she brings her head closer, tilting her head and your lips collide.
Minjeong knows that talking about all the things that made her fall in love with you won't be enough to express herself, instead she kissed you.
Your lips move against each other, feeling how much you wanted to do this before, the fleeting glances her used to look at your lips coming true now.
The raindrops decrease and Minjeong moves away first, but she is still close to you
''To our room''
You arrive at the cheap hotel room, while holding hands. Minjeong closes but she can't bear to get to the bed, so she kisses you while standing there, and then you decide to pull her to the bed.
You gently push her onto the bed and you lie on top of her and press a long kiss to her cheek so that she is looking at you and a slight smile appears at the corner of her mouth.
''Minjeong I love you''
You say it again while looking at her under you
''Y/N, you're cute''
You're lying on top of Minjeong so you're resting your head on her chest and you can feel her hands stroking and stroking your hair. You're both now in comfortable silence.
''So…what about you?''
You ask her, there is concern in your tone of voice. You are not sure even after the kiss
''Y/N I wouldn't kiss you like that if I didn't like you.''
After you confessed to her, Minjeong gained confidence, so she is ready to say everything that is on her mind and heart.
You remain silent until Minjeong finishes speaking
''How can it not be clear to you? When everyone mentions your name while you are absent, they look at me. How can it not be clear to you? And I make sure to sit in the train compartment in which you usually sit to catch a glimpse of you. How can it not be clear to you? And I only look at you when I throw parties.'
You melt just listening to Minjeong
''Y/N, no matter how much I explain about the amount of love I have for you…you will not understand it. I knew you before you even introduced yourself that day!''
You raise your head to look into Minjeong's eyes
''Y/N I adore you''
You could devote your entire life to just listening to her confessions, but you just want to kiss her right now
I raised butterflies inside me, and every time they saw you, they flew inside me
You hold hands as you walk into your classes, and Minjeong can feel the quick kisses on the back of her hand from you, how can she stop smiling?
''Y/N stop, the professor will see us.''
Minjeong whispers to you
''What's wrong? I bet he's thinking about his wife right now.''
A loud laugh would almost come out of her mouth if she didn't remove her hand from yours and put it on her mouth
''Why do you keep your hand away!''
You talks to her while it is clear that you’r voice carries some laughter as well
''Y/N and Minjeong out politely!''
You walk out of class still holding hands
''Look, because of your loud laughter, we were kicked out of the class…''
You say while looking around
''You're the one who keeps saying funny things!''
''whatever''
She says you are bored
Until you feel Minjeong's steps stop so you stop with her
You look at her a little surprised, then Minjeong approaches you, wraps her arms around your neck, and whispers against your lip.
“Since we got kicked out of class, we don't have to worry about being caught kissing.”
''I agree with you''
Minjeong kisses you passionately
You lie on the couch with your lower body on top of Minjeong's body and she places circles on your knees and hips.
You were both watching a random show on TV until Minjeong's face appeared on the screen
You throw a shocked look from your face to Minjeong's while she smiles warmly at you
''It's just a simple clip celebrating our relationship, which has completed a whole month.''
You return your gaze to the screen
And
How did i recognize you in the crowded place? My eyes were full of you
On the crowded train
You have become part of my routine
You were the light in the place where you were, but I was not disturbed by your bright light
I feel comfortable just looking at you sleeping, how about I sleep next to you
In my imagination, I imagined that I spoke to you without fear
But I'm a coward when it comes to you
The second you talked to me, you made me want to be social just for you
I'm shy to talk to you, but I want to hug you so I can feel our souls touching
This tension is what I prefer
I want to listen to you while you're drunk, but alone
Even if we are in the same place, stay close to me
I want to live with you, to wake up with you every day this way
Someone mentioned your name, and looked at me
Looking at the clouds and waiting for the raindrops, but I was waiting for our moment together
I raised butterflies inside me, and every time they saw you, they flew inside me
You always make me feel crowded places inside my heart
94 notes · View notes
dragon-creates · 8 months ago
Text
Royally Screwed!
Read on AO3
1/2/3/4/5
Wow that was some hiatus. But we're officially back! And hopefully we'll start to update more frequently as well, but I can't be too sure because of college and (if you've been following me on twitter and tiktok) I'm also voicing Jane Doe in 'Birds Of Paradise' by Rosetta Sun on tiktok. I really recommend going to her kofi as the rest of the cast and I are doing commisions to voice your oc's! We all have a large range of voices so if you want go to the link of Rosetta's tiktok bio and go to her kofi and see which voice would best suit your oc! Besides from that, hopefully I'll be writing more too, especially with a certain sequel everyone has been waiting for 👀.
Also, the beginning of the chapter does go into detail about Pomni's past and how she was treated by Caine, it wasn't great to say the least. I don't want anyone to feel triggered to like always, I will label (1) when the flashback starts and (2) when it ends. If this is something that you're not comfortable reading, please always feel free to skip this fic.
Anyways, enjoy!
4. Anything, Anything, Anything
(1)
Pomni panted as she stared at the ground below, clutching onto her aerial silk. She didn’t know how long she had been practicing for, only that she was completely exhausted. But rehearsals weren’t over yet, she had to keep going. The ground looked so far down below her, sure she was up high but for some reason the height was giving her vertigo. She never gets vertigo.
“Pomni?” Kaufmo called up to her, placing down a pie he had for his act. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Pomni took a breath, “I’m fine Pa! Just lost my focus, that’s all.”
The clown didn’t seem to buy it, “I don’t think so kiddo, start climbing down slowly, you look exhausted.”
It was true. Her eyes were red with bags underneath, she seemed paler than normal and she was concerningly thin from what Kaufmo could see. But she didn’t want to worry him, not when there were worse things at play, “I’m fine Pa! I promise. I…”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence, her vision blurring and her head pounding with the force of an unexpected headache. Against her control, she slipped into unconscious, letting go of the silks.
“POMNI!” Kaufmo screamed, running to where she was falling. The rest of the cast gasped, halting their own practice as they raced to the collapsing jester.
She was lucky that her father was there in time, catching her in his arms before her body hit the floor. Kaufmo didn’t even want to imagine the type of damage she could have taken. “Ragatha,” he turned to the ragdoll, “Go get her some water, she’s skipping practice for the rest of the day.”
“Now, now Kaufmo,” a low voice drawled, making everyone’s skin crawl when the ringmaster floated into the tent. His eyes sharpened in on Kaufmo and the fainted jester in his arms, “I don’t believe you have the authority to make those commands.”
“Pomni fainted Caine,” Kaufmo hissed, his own tone cold and unafraid, “It takes the slightest bit of human empathy to recognise that she’s being overworked!”
Caine went still, his feet planted on the ground, unhappy with Kaufmo’s attitude. Ragatha’s lions immediately circled round the clown and jester, shielding them from the ringmaster’s unknown wrath, “She’ll be fine, she just needs to keep practising.”
“She needs rest.” Kaufmo spat, “The only reason why she fainted the way she did is because you keep working her to the bone to the point that she can’t even stand. Not to mention the fact that you’re sucking the literal life out of her every day just so you can fulfil your ‘precious’ ego! So excuse me if I find everything that comes out of your mouth to be complete horseshit!”
The clown panted, not tearing his eyes away from Caine even for a second. The next few seconds were nothing but aching silence.
Kaufmo had been used to Caine’s torment for years. The pair of dentures forced him to endure each performance no matter how much pain he was in. As long as the audience was satisfied, he couldn’t care less if the clown had a few broken bones. But Kaufmo would be damned if he was going to let the ringmaster inflict that same pain onto his daughter, not if he could help it.
The clown turned his attention away from Caine when he heard a small whine, turning to look down at Pomni fluttering her eyes open. “Pa?” she whimpered, “What happened?”
“Hey there kiddo,” he rocked her lightly, like he used to do when she was younger after she had a fright or a nightmare. “You fainted, you’re lucky I was there to catch you.” He put a hand to her forehead, wiping away a bead of sweat, “You’re burning up, come on you need to lay down.”
“I didn’t give out that order,” Caine intervened.
“And I don’t care!” Kaufmo snapped, “You’re not pushing her to the brink today Caine! Do what you want with me but leave Pomni out of this!”
“Here,” Ragatha rushed back, a cup of water nursed in her hands as she held it to Pomni’s lips. “Oh sweetheart, you look as pale as a ghost.”
Pomni gulped down as much of the liquid as she could, she didn’t realise how thirsty she was until the water hit her throat. Her head buzzed with a light ache, pressing her hand to it when she finished the water. She really had been overworked, hadn’t she?
“Easy there, kiddo,” Kaufmo raised her upper body into a sitting position, “Let’s get you back to your quarters.”
Caine cleared his throat condescendingly, “I believe I told you that I didn’t give out that order Kaufmo.”
“And I believe I told you that it was complete horseshit,” the clown retorted, not taking his eyes off Pomni as he helped her to her feet.
“I guess you need a gentle reminder,” the ringmaster spoke softly, contradicting his words with the next action he was about to do.
He flicked his hand, a red mist contrasting Pomni’s usual blue appearing. It extended like a chain, wrapping round Kaufmo’s neck and pulling the clown towards him, forcing him to drop Pomni as she landed back onto the ground with a thud. “Pa!” she cried out, the others surrounding her.
“Let me make this perfectly clear Kaufmo,” Caine hissed, the chain tightening around the clown’s neck, suffocating him. “You are under my rules, you obey me. If I say jump, you jump. If you are tied to the back of a carriage while being dragged around on a rope, you will do just that. If you had to bleed out for an act with no one to assist you, you will continue with a smile and be damn pleased about it.”
Kaufmo coughed and spluttered, pulling at the misty chain to get the smallest breath of air, but Caine was too strong.
“Caine, stop! Stop please!” Pomni screamed, the others holding her back, “Let my Pa go!”
His eyes darted to the jester, his gaze making her feel tiny. He threw Kaufmo at a box of crates, the clown grunting at the painful impact. Pomni let out a cry, her hand reaching out to him.
Caine flicked his fingers again, lifting up the others and leaving Pomni on the ground to watch in terror. “You did this, you know,” Caine tsked.
Pomni’s eyes widened with terror, “W-what?”
“They all suffer because of your incompetence,” he growled, “You’re lucky you have a bit of talent and that little magic of yours, otherwise you would be a nothing-filled waste.”
“Caine, let them go, please,” Pomni begged, her lip quivering.
He rolled his eyes, letting out a chuckle before throwing each member in different directions of the tent. Sun hit his head against a pole, Ragatha tore one of her stitches as she landed on her knives and Gangle ribbons were tied up in knots when she landed face first on the ground, putting a crack in her mask.
Pomni covered her mouth, trying to stand yet her legs give way once again. She was too weak.
“Caine, what is the meaning of this?” Moon’s startled voice echoed throughout the tent, gasping when she saw everyone scattered around and furrowed her brows when she saw Pomni’s dishevelled form on the ground. “You have to put a stop to your madness, look at what you’re doing to everyone! Look at what you’re doing to that poor girl!”
“This is merely discipline, Moon, I’m doing whatever it takes to make sure a circus is successful,” Caine muttered, barely paying her any mind.
Moon could even barely recognise the man in front of her, “What happened to you Caine?”
He turned to her slowly, “Come again?”
“What happened to the man I fell in love with?” she continued, “What happened to the promises you made to make this circus amazing? What happened to trying no matter what? What happened to the man I fell in love with?”
Caine scoffed, “I did what I had to do in order to make these dreams happen. You could never understand sacrifice Moon, you believe what you want to believe but this is the way things are.”
Moon’s eyes darkened, she started stomping towards him, “You…you vile, disgusting, monstrous-!”
He snapped his fingers, an axe appearing in his hand as he held it to her chin, daring her to come closer. “Just because I’m soft on you Moon, it doesn’t mean that I won’t take precautions for you stepping out of line,” he glared at her.
But Moon was unflinching, staring him down with the same coldness he gave her, “Do your worst.”
Caine hummed, giving her a shrug, “Fine.”
He waved his hand again, sending the axe into her shoulder. An agonised screech echoed throughout the tent as a group of his masked men rushing in and pulling her away. “You’re lucky dear, this is me sparing you,” Caine sneered, “But make no mistake, I will be dealing with you accordingly.”
Moon screeched as she was dragged away, her eyes looking on with worry at the frightened Jester. “Run Pomni!” she screamed, “Run!”
She wanted to, Pomni really wanted to. But fear had paralysed her when Caine set his eyes on her again. Tears leaked from her eyes, feeling like the five-year-old girl he grabbed from the street the moment he caught of whiff of her power. “Caine, don’t do this,” she sniffed, “I’ll be better, I’ll practice more, I’ll stop singing just please don’t do this.”
“You know, I never did understand your silly little songs,” he mumbled, “You waste so much time on them yet you know the real reason the audience comes to see you, and it isn’t to hear those tacky lyrics of yours. You know exactly what you’re good for.”
That part stung. Yes she knew that her skills as a trapeze artist and her abilities was what got tickets to sell, but her songs were her passion. Her songs were her, something that Caine hadn’t been able to take away yet. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him that her songs were everything! But she was still too frail, and she was certain that it was only going to get worse.
“Caine please, I’m still recovering from last time and we have another show tonight!” she back away, kicking her legs as she crawled backwards on the ground. “Please don’t do this it…it hurts.”
“All good sacrifices come with pain Pomni,” Caine told her, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out the amulet. “You should be thanking me for using this gift, I’m the one who’s actually putting it to good use.”
He held the amulet in front of him, Pomni’s eyes pleading for mercy. “Now my little possession,” he grinned, “It’s time for me to receive my gift.”
The amulet glowed, a loud whine leaving its source.
Pomni could feel her blood boiling, her head pounding and every part of her body shattering with pain when she felt her energy being ripped away from her. Her blue mist was forced away from her, being sealed away into the amulet as Caine looked on with greed.
It hurt, it hurt so much. Her skin was burning as though she had been lit up into a thousand flames, her hair being ripped from her scalp, and she was bleeding out of every pore of her body. She wanted it to stop, it hurts, just stop, please stop, STOP, STOP, STOP!
A pained scream ripped from her throat.
(2)
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Pomni woke in a cold sweat, her heart pounding in her chest. Her head whipped from side to side, scanning her surroundings in a dazed panic. She wasn’t in that lifeless tent anymore with that cruel ringmaster. She was in the castle, she was safe, and she was far away from him.
She let out a sniffle, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them tight as she buried her face into them. A few stray tears leaked onto the sheets, her sobs muffled against the blanket. That was the worst thing about her nightmares, they weren’t just that but memories too. It was real and it had happened. All they did was make her relive it over and over again.
Kaufmo told her many times that it wasn’t her fault for what Caine did, that his actions were his own doing. But seeing the repeated moments of her family being hurt over and over again just to protect her only made her guilt increase. Maybe Caine was right. Maybe it was her fault.
She took a deep breath, sitting upright and wiping the wetness off her cheeks. That was the past, there was no need to be self-pitiful about it now. She shouldn’t waste time fussing over stupid memories that only brought everyone else down the longer she thought about them. She just needed to get up and go throughout the day, push everything back until she’s able to manage it on her own.
Pomni swung her legs over her bed, going over to clean herself in the sink inside the connected bathroom, before moving behind the screen the maids gave her to change into a new dress she was given. She first pulled over a simple cream shift over her head, the silky fabric gliding over her skin. Next was a simple blue stays and puffy skirt, with two red hearts on each side of the skirt and ribbon of the same colour in a criss-cross pattern in the middle of her stays, with the bottom of the skirt being layered with red and white trim.
She did a onceover in the mirror as she pulled the strings off the stays shut, giving herself a quick nod before finally exiting her room.
Part of her wanted to bury back under the soft sheets of her bed, to hide whatever the day had to await her, her nightmare clawing at the back of her mind. But the moment she saw Prince Jax outside her door waiting for her, all doubts instantly vanished as a true and natural smile tugged at her lips.
“A good morning to you Prince Jax,” she greeted, giggling as Motley immediately jumped into her arms and climbed onto her shoulder, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Only your smile little lady,” he grinned, eating up the little blush that dusted across her cheeks. “But that’s not the only reason I’m here. My parents asked me to collect you, they have an announcement for you and the rest of your family in the throne room.”
His brows were furrowed and face serious, this had to be a serious matter.
“Oh, lead the way then,” she said, anxiety started to grip at her again.
Jax sensed her apprehension, scooping her arm up and linking it with his, “Don’t worry, no matter what it is we’ll be able to figure it out. Promise.”
How does he do that? How does someone with the type of reputation that made her want to keep the farthest distance away from him as possible, say the simplest yet heartwarming things that might her heart spark? And how did he say it so honestly that she had to believe him? She cleared her throat, giving him a little smirk, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep Princey.”
His eyes were unchanging, still soft as he placed his other hand over her and rubbed his thumb over her fingers, “I don’t. You’re too important to risk.”
Pomni felt her heart skip a beat. If it weren’t for Motley purring against her ear, she wouldn’t have anything to ground herself from floating up to cloud nine. Her grip on his hand tightened, whispering, “Good.”
With a gentle smile and a steady hand, he led her out of the hallway and made their way to the throne room. Neither of them felt the need to run down the halls like they usually did, that experience would be for another type of day. For this day, the slow steady pace down the long halls of the palace was what the two of them needed. The comfortable silence of each other’s company was enough for both of them, not a single word had to be spoken. Was this what it would be like for Pomni if she were to stay? Just peace? No worries about what or who could come after her? That she could be free to express herself in any form she wished for, song, dance, art, speech? Where her powers would be hers and hers alone without the fear of them being used for someone else’s selfish exploitations? And where she could finally allow herself to open up to the idea of love? To spend her days with someone who would listen to anything and everything she had to say. To feel safe in the loving embrace of another. And she and Jax could live their days in nothing but peaceful bliss…
…Oh…OH!...oh…
Electricity struck through Pomni as the realisation dawned on her.
She had fallen in love with the prince.
Jax looked down at the jester once he felt her grip loosen on his, concern curling through him when he saw the worried look on her face. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said soothingly, capturing her attention as she blinked up at him. “I know that this whole ‘being called to the throne room’ thing seems pretty daunting, but trust me, there’s nothing to be afraid of. My parents always have a plan, so no matter what happens, I’m sure it’ll be alright.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” she nodded, giving him a soft smile before they continued walking. How she wished that were the reason why she suddenly felt so down. But no. She loved Jax, she had fallen so hard for him. But she didn’t have the luxury to stay with him. Someone like her couldn’t afford to love.
Bury it down, she inhaled deeply, don’t ruin this, not like everything else.
She wanted to enjoy this as much as she could before anything else could happen.
The throne room already had a small audience, consisting of the rest of the circus while Kinger and Queenie sat ahead of them on their thrones. The king and queen shared a nervous yet hopeful look, two emotions that could go either way depending on what the topic of conversation that were about to have. It only made the prince and jester all the more nervous.
“Thank you for joining us Pomni, I’m glad that our son is being a good host to you,” Queenie greeted, bowing her head to the girl.
“Well, he has become a very good friend to me over the past few days,” Pomni gave the prince a smile before focusing back on the queen, “If you don’t mind me asking your majesty, but why have you summoned us all here?”
“Hey, it’s okay kiddo,” Kaufmo walked up to her. Pomni detached her arm from Jax’s to put her hands in her father’s, the rabbit already missing the warmth of her touch. “They’ve already informed us that there is nothing to worry about.”
Pomni exhaled shakily, nodding. Though her nerves would get the best of her at times, Kaufmo’s voice was always something that kept her slightly grounded ever since she was a child. Even Motley’s purring added to that as well. With a final breath, she turned to the king and queen, ready to hear whatever they had to say.
Kinger cleared his throat, rising from his throne, “As you know, we’ve had our guards roam outside of our kingdom to make sure that Caine or his men haven’t been planning another invasion. Well, we’ve just had a report back and they’ve told us that the outer realm has been clear of them since the last attack.”
“We’ve told them to do one last surveillance before their final report, just to make sure that Caine isn’t lurking,” Queenie continued, “However, since there’s not been any sightings, we believe that it is safe for you to continue with your travels.”
 “So, how long do you determine that we stay in the castle?” Ragatha asked, “During the last surveillance.”
“Unless anything else comes back, I’d say you should stay at least one more week before you believe that you should go,” Queenie confirmed.
Several of the cast members let out a sigh of relief, the anxiety of Caine’s lurking washing away at the thought of being free to travel again. Though a bittersweetness hung in the air. The kingdom had been nothing but supportive and accommodating to them in their time of need. What was supposed to be a short time here to entertain the subjects here had turned into the kindest experience any of them had ever received in their entire lives.
For Pomni? While the thought of seeing new places (and being as far away from Caine as possible) thrilled her to her core. For the first time in her life, she actually wanted to stay. Don’t get her wrong, she still had her dreams of travelling the realms, to let audiences hear her songs - not watch her acts or witness her powers, but to listen to her songs. To listen to her singing. To listen to her.
But if she closed her eyes for a moment, only a moment, she wanted to let herself pretend. Pretend that she had a place here, to wake up in the morning and plan to do whatever she pleased, to go out into town and greet the other people of the kingdom as though she were one of them too. To sing in the town centre for whoever wanted to stop and hear her.
And perhaps, in the far back of her mind, she would go up to the castle and be greeted by a pair of yellow eyes and a Cheshire grin. Where he would take her hands into his and ask about her day, stroll in the gardens with her as he listened to whatever plans she wanted to venture. To listen to the songs that she only reserved for him and him alone. And until the midnight sky, watching the stars twinkle amongst the inky blanket of the nightly heavens, he would hold her in his arms, a silent promise that he would always love her. No matter what.
But now, she realised that there was no way to have that fantasy be real. Yes, Caine wasn’t spotted by any of the guards, but it didn’t change the fact that he was still out there. Still waiting for the chance to strike and get his hands on her and her powers. As long as Caine was after her, she could never have the life she dreamed of living.
Jax looked over the side of his shoulder, worry striking him when he saw Pomni’s crestfallen expression and the glazed look in her eyes. While he was sad that she was leaving (and deep down prayed that she could stay), a part of him believed that there would be some joy in the fact that she could finally be free to leave. He knew that something was wrong, “Pomni, what’s wrong?”
Pomni wanted to cry right there and then at how kind his words sounded, at how far the prince had come from the stereotype she expected from him. Why couldn’t she just keep hating him, why did he charm and endear her so much that she had to fall in love with him! It could have made everything so much easier. She wanted to tell him how much she wanted to stay, tell him all of the potential plans she could have had here, and how much she wanted him to be part of them. But the words kept getting stuck in her throat, as though an invisible hand had wrapped around her neck, silencing her from making any word that would ruin Jax too.
“However,” Kinger’s voice rang through the room. “There is one last thing we would like to do before you all take your leave.”
Pomni didn’t know whether to feel eased or frustrated at the sudden interruption.
“We would like to host a ball in your honour near the end of the week,” Queenie announced, “To thank you for all that you have done here.”
“For what we’ve done?” Ragatha titled her head in confusion, “Your majesty, you and your family are the ones who took care of us in our time of need?
Queenie eyes softened, a glimmer of a smile flickering in her gaze. A kind look that Jax knew all too well from his mother. “Yes, you and your family may have been under our care,” Queenie confirmed, “But it does not take away from the fact that you have all been an incredible presence in our kingdom. You have brought smiles to everyone, not just from your performances, but by simply being your best true selves for everyone to see. Even if you didn’t bring your tricks or talents, the moment you stepped out into town you all saw the world as authentic and beautiful, that’s what brought our subjects to you. That mind view is an incredible ability to possess, you’re lucky. Many people lack it. That’s why we want to celebrate you, for all of you cherishing the kindness that our kingdom was built upon. Doing that is the greatest thing our foreigners and travellers can do, that is why the entire kingdom is invited, so they can say one more final thank you and goodbye for all that you have done for us.”
Each member looked to one another, like a sparkler had been lit within their souls as they grinned at the prospect of a ball. Neither one of them had been to one before, mostly they would stay as long as they would need to in the town they were performing in, do the performance they rehearsed day and night to do before finally leaving up the time their shows were finished. They had only heard what happened at balls through whispers of stories from the other common folk. And now they could finally be a part of one.
Excited murmurs broke out between them, wondering what they could wear, where they could get their garments, what colours they should choose, what type of jewellery they would wear if they decided to wear them at all. There was just so many choices in so little time! It was all so amazing!
Pomni felt herself smiling. A ball. Like everyone else, she had never been to one. But Kaufmo’s fairytales left so many fantasies in her mind. When she was a teenager - after a rough night of performing and dealing with Caine’s wrath - she would dream about being at a ball, wearing the loveliest gown while dancing under the stars. Sometimes those dreams would include a handsome prince or princess sweeping her off her feet, taking her far away from all that hurt her.
She looked to Jax. She may be leaving after the end of the week, but it was still one night to have all her dreams come true. Even if it would only last for so long. “So,” she lightly nudged Jax’s shoulder, “I’m guessing you already have a plus one to bring to the ball. A princess no doubt.”
“Well I am planning on asking someone,” Jax confirmed. Pomni felt her face fall a bit, a little piece of her was hoping he would ask her. Huh, she never expected that thought to enter her mind. “She might not be a princess, but she has the spirit of one for sure.”
“Oh,” Pomni fiddled with her ring finger, “Well, she’s lucky if you’re the one who’s wanting to ask her.”
“I’m the lucky one if she says yes little lady,” he grinned, “Or rather, if you say yes.”
Pomni’s head snapped up.
“You really think I wouldn’t be asking you?” Jax chuckled, “Did you not see what I was like when I met you? Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought before I heroically saved you.”
“Shut up,” she shoved his lightly in the chest, unable to stop her own laughter from joining his. “I’ve never been to a ball hosted by royalty, I thought since you’re the prince that it was required for you to ask a princess or a noble to join you.”
“Maybe in other kingdoms,” he nodded, “But here, you’re the only lady I want by my side that night.” His breath wavered as his face went serious. His hands slightly shaky as he prepared himself for his next question. Years of his ego being his defining personality trait, to be able to get away with the most rioting pranks and wild parties, it all melted away when asking the girl of his dreams to a simple ball.
And this was the same prince who revelled in the promise of danger.
“Pomni,” he began, taking her hand still on his chest into his own, lacing their fingers together. “Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the ball?”
She squeezed his hand, her stomach doing an excited little flip as she answered, “I’d love to.” The jester heard a disgruntled cough coming from behind her, and by Jax’s pale expression, she could tell who it was. She turned, coming face to face with Kaufmo, Ragatha and Moon, each of them wearing a stern look on their faces. “Pa, it’s okay. He asked and I agreed.”
“Don’t worry kiddo, I know you did. I trust you,” Kaufmo replied reassuringly to his daughter. “I just have a warning for the prince.”
Jax gulped at the three cold stares coming from the trio, if looks could kill then he was fairly sure he would be singing with the angels right about now. “Let me make this very clear,” Kaufmo began, “If Pomni is even slightly sad at the ball because of you, then I have no hesitation to let Ragatha use you as cat food for her lions.”
The ragdoll nodded, glaring at him with all her might. Moon didn’t even have to say anything, but the way she stood with Ragatha was enough to tell him that she had no problem assisting the redhead. He whipped his head to his parents, who hadn’t uttered a word during this whole ordeal.
“Don’t look at me,” Queenie put her hands up. “I’m not the one to judge a father for being protective over his daughter. Besides, he has a right to be wary of you darling.”
Jax shrugged with a nod, he couldn’t disagree there. He looked back at Pomni, her cheeks slightly flushed with a humoured smile on her lips after that whole interaction. How did she manage to look so beautiful in every way? He probably had a lovesick look on his face again, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care because this was her, nothing else mattered. “Well in that case,” he picked up her hand again, revelling in the way her cheeks flushed even more, “I can’t wait to see you there, my little lady.” He pressed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, forcing himself not to laugh as he heard a silent squeal erupting from the back of her throat.
“A-and, I-I,” Pomni cleared her throat, straightening her back again and regaining the calmness she had before. “And I you, your highness.” She then enclosed his hand in both her palms, with the upmost gentleness she started running her thumb over his fingers, like he had done so with her hand earlier. All without breaking eye contact with him, she smirked when it was his turn for him to get all flustered.
She let go, giving him a small curtsy, “Now if you don’t mind, I’m fairly certain that the rest of the ladies and non-gender affirming friend are going to drag me to help them find ballgowns soon.”
Jax spluttered, trying to find the words that were in his head a few seconds ago. How on earth did this tiny powerful woman have this much of a hectic effect on him only from touching his hand?! “Y-yeah, I’m pretty sure my father will be doing that but for me,” he wasn’t able to focus on anything but the faint tingling of where her fingers had been on his hand, sending little shocks up the nerves on his arm. He flexed his hand, letting his fingers stretch to see if it would make any difference. The tingling only increased, his fur fluffing up at his neck at the reaction. He huffed fondly, worth it. “I look forward to seeing how beautiful you look.”
She raised her brow at him, rolling her eyes as he chuckled. He was always just so him wasn’t he? But it’s also why you fell in love with him, isn’t it? She sighed, yes, it was. In the amount of since she met him, he had become a far cry of what she believed him to be from the tales she heard. He had proven to be kind, noble and brave. Though still a little bit of a trickster, a good man and a good prince with a tender heart was all she could see. And soon she would have to leave all that behind.
She opened her mouth to say something, she wanted to say something, but she found herself being pulled away by Ragatha, Moon, Gangle and Zooble. Just like she had suspected, they were pulling her away to start dress shopping. “I’m afraid we’ll have to continue our conversation later!” she called out to Jax, looking over her shoulder while Motley jumped out of her arms and trotted back to the prince as she was dragged out of the ballroom.
Jax laughed at the scene in front of him, picking up the kitten and placing him on his shoulder, “I look forward to it.”
Pomni gave him one final smile, before joining in with the excited chatter with the rest of the ladies and Zooble.
However, once she was out of sight, did Jax let himself frown. The girl seemed so strangely down all morning, quieter and more reserved, less of the usual spunk than he had come to expect. Had something happened? Did he do something to offend her? Whatever it was he should at least try and make it up to her.
“You’re overthinking,” A familiar voice murmured. Jax turned to face his father walking towards him.
“I inherited it from you, old man,” the prince snickered. Kinger’s face didn’t move an inch, not willing to change the topic of conversation just yet. Jax sighed, “I’m worried about Pomni. She hasn’t really been herself much this morning. I didn’t want to pry into what it is cause its none of my business and I don’t wanna push her, she already felt pretty stressed out when she told me about her past. I don’t wanna add anymore onto that. But I can tell that something’s wrong, and I hate feeling helpless. I just want to protect her.”
Kinger hummed. He had heard this monologue many decades ago from when he was around Jax’s age. He should know, for Kinger was the one who said it too. “When I fell in love your mother, I was a wreck,” the king began. “Despite going round in circles to think of a way to win her heart, I also had other thoughts in my head as well. I worried that I could never protect her the way I wanted to, she could be sad for only a moment and I would panic that I had done something to hurt her. But when he married and grew together, I had to realise that I wasn’t a magical knight from a story book. Even with my crown I was only a man who loved his wife deeply. It hurts when we have to come to turns that we cannot protect everyone – including the ones we love – but no matter what we still try. We try because we know that it’s better for them to be in our lives than to lose them. We can do what we can and that’s all right, for what is love than the desire to guard what we care for the most?”
Clarity never hit Jax harder than it did right here in this moment. He lifted the hand that Pomni touched again, shifting his fingers where hers had been. His father was right. Even the biggest dam in all of the world would never be able to stop a crack, letting a flood release. And even if he wanted to, he knew that there were bigger forces out there who would do nothing but take Pomni for themselves. He squeezed his hand into a fist, but they would have to kill him first before ever hurting Pomni ever again. Even if he were to fall, her safety would forever and always come first for him. “Yeah,” he nodded, “It is.”
Kinger felt warmth radiate through him, it had been so long since he heard that part of his son speak so earnestly. He missed him, “Come now, it’s time we get you fitted. I’m sure you’ll want to look your best for your lady-friend at the ball.”
He snickered as he heard his son’s splutters, it was fun getting under Jax’s skin sometimes. A little petty revenge if that’s what you want to call it.
From the side, Kaufmo stood, hearing everything they had just said. For the first time, since Jax saved her, he was able to see clearly about what Pomni saw in the prince.
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Pomni was panicking. Which wasn’t a complete shock. Tomorrow was the ball and she had spent the entire week helping everyone else pick out their gowns expect for herself. The ladies had insisted on finding what colour would flatter her the most, but she had turned away in favour of finding something for them, insisting that she would find a garment for herself soon. And yet, here she was. Gown-less and nearing a mental breakdown.
She groaned, honestly she blamed herself. She had been so caught up in the nightmares that she had and the future aftermath of the ball. Caine would always be breathing down her neck, something she would never be able to shake away even after they escaped from him the first time, and soon she would be returning to that fear. When she met Jax, somehow his foolishness and change in behaviour had been able to forget about her worries for a while, despite their first meeting. He only had to say one word and the rest of the world didn’t matter, it was just bliss. Soon, she wouldn’t have that anymore. She’d soon return to surviving for herself and her family, looking over her shoulder constantly to make sure a pair of blue and green eyes wouldn’t be staring back at her.
She just wanted to be selfish, just once and stay here. Stay with Jax, stay in the kingdom, stay in the life that she oh so wanted to have. But the thought of Caine harming Jax because of his obsession with her powers was a risk that she never wanted to take…after all, it was the same risk that her village was raided and burned to the ground.
How dare you think of that, how dare you even think about staying. You could lose everything just because of your entitlement you stupid girl! Pomni felt tears well up in her eyes, You’re selfish! Selfish! Selfish! Selfish! Selfish-
A knock at her door broke her away from her panic, wiping away her tears and smoothing down the fabric of her skirt. “Just coming!” she hoped her voice didn’t give away the fact that she had been crying.
She had expected either Ragatha or Kaufmo to show up at her door, so it was quite the shock when it was Queenie who had appeared, holding a large yet flat box under her arm. “Apologies, I don’t mean to intrude Pomni but I…Oh darling, what happened?” the queen asked, her brows furrowing with worry.
Pomni wanted to rub at her eyes again, to hide any evidence of her tears. But the queen had already put the box down and took the jester’s hands into hers, leaving Pomni unable to hide. “It’s nothing, your majesty,” Pomni brushed off her worries, “Please, don’t mind me, I’ll be okay.”
“Oh honey,” The queen wrapped her arms around the girl, “This is a safe place, your tears aren’t nothing. Whatever it is you’re feeling, don’t ever be afraid to say it.” 
Pomni typically wasn’t one for physical touch, usually it was reserved for those she was close with like Kaufmo or Ragatha – and now it included Jax. But this was different. Queenie’s warmth reminded her of a familiar touch that she had not received in a long time. A touch of a mother reassuring her child that everything was going to be okay. And though Pomni couldn’t remember her face, that small yet significant warmth from her mother stayed with the girl throughout her life. And now, she was receiving the same touch from Queenie, another mother who fiercely loved her son.
Pomni clutched onto the queen, her small body shaking with silent sobs. Queenie was patient and gentle the whole time, rubbing her hand up and down the jester’s back, shushing in her ear like how she did with Jax when he was young whenever he got scared or bruised his knee. She had only heard snippets from Jax about what the girl’s childhood what like, he didn’t tell her everything, after all, only Pomni could be the one to detail her past to another. But what she heard was enough for her to know that this poor girl had went through hell and back. She wasn’t surprised to see Jax so protective over her after their day at the village festival, whatever Pomni had told him there was enough for him to guard her with everything he had.
Once the girl was quiet, she pulled away, leaning into the queen’s touch when the latter lifted her hands to Pomni’s face and brushed her tears away. “Are you okay to tell me what wrong my dear?” Queenie asked, as kindly and patiently as she could.
Now Pomni understood how Jax was able to show kindness the way he did. “Is it…is it wrong for me wanting to stay?” Pomni spoke softly, as though a single wrong word would make everything crumble. “I love my family, and I’m so grateful for the hospitality that you’ve given us and I can’t wait to get back on the road again, but...I never had a real home in so long. That isn’t to mean Kaufmo and the others aren’t! They have always been my home. I’m just…I’m so tired of running. I’m tired of not being able to live a normal life and pursue my dreams because of the threat of one man. Your kingdom, that has been a home for me after so long. For the first time in my life I didn’t have to run, I could be safe in the knowledge that I was protected…and Jax. Your son has to be one of the sweetest people I have ever met, despite his reputation. But the thought of leaving here? It already makes me feel homesick thinking about it…I-I’m sorry your majesty I didn’t mean to overload you with all of that!”
Queenie had not spoken a word, letting Pomni take the time she needed in order to let out everything that was tying her down to the ground, like releasing her from being chained to a boulder. Pomni had more pages than the heaviest book in the world, each piece unfolding a new layer of her that made the queen’s heart ache for the girl. “My darling, I am queen of a kingdom where people need to unload on me,” Queenie told her. “It is my job to help those who cannot help themselves. Do not apologise for letting yourself feel. You might not be my subject, but that does not mean I will not take your problems seriously.”
Was this what having a mother was like? She wouldn’t trade Kaufmo for the world, but that never stopped the lingering curiosity of what her own mother would have been like. All she had left of her mother were blurry images in her mind, the powers she shared with her, and her love of music. If her mother was still here would she offer her the same comfort and security that Queenie did for her in only a few short moments? It was times like this, times her soul twinged with sorrow and doubt when she wished that her life was different. That it could be of her own making. She would be in her village, under the care and singing day and night with her mother, only traveling when she wanted to find new places to play her songs, meet the other members of the circus under different circumstances, and fall in love with Jax without having to worry about leaving him.
Why did life choose her to be so cruel to?
“Thank you, your majesty,” Pomni bowed her head in appreciation, “I’m sorry again for such a heavy topic.”
“You must learn to stop saying sorry, dear,” there was a joking tone in Queenie’s voice as she wagged her finger at Pomni, “Otherwise I’ll have to make a rule to ban you from saying it.”
Pomni laughed at that, tears of mirth pricking in the corners of her eyes instead.
Queenie’s eyes smiled, softening as her hands encased the jester’s again, “Not every bad thing that happens is your fault. Please hold onto that information for when you travel again…Pomni, it’s not my place but if you were to stay, we would be more than happy to protect you from Caine.”
Pomni’s face fell, “That’s the thing your majesty. Caine always comes up with new plans, if I stayed he wouldn’t stop terrorizing this kingdom until he gets what he wants, No one is powerful enough to stop him.”
“He managed to get arrested once,” Queenie pointed out, “He can be again.”
“He also managed to escape,” Pomni said, her face saddening once again. “You’d think someone with powers like mine that I could be able to do something. But even now, he still has a hand around my neck. I could be the strongest person alive yet I’d still be too scared to face him. You have…you have no idea what he put us through.” Her heart squeezed, she felt so damn pathetic.
“I don’t know what he’s done, but I do know that you didn’t deserve it,” Queenie told her. “Never feel ashamed for feeling afraid because of what that monster did to you. Do what makes you feel safest my darling, and if you ever want to come back our castle doors are always open.”
Pomni sniffed, a smile brightening her face once again, “Jax is lucky to have you.”
“And he’s lucky to have you too,” the queen teased, humming laughter as the jester started gasping and stuttering. “Now, speaking of Jax. I understand that he asked you to be his plus one for the ball. I hope it’s not inappropriate but I do have something that you could wear. If you don’t already.”
“I-I don’t,” Pomni’s jaw fell a little in surprise at the kind gesture. “You didn’t have to do that your majesty, not for me.”
“Nonsense,” Queenie shook her head, picking up the box from the ground and bringing it over to Pomni’s bed. “Every girl deserves to have something nice for themselves. Besides, I was hoping you would wear this.”
Pomni bit her lip, the queen had a pleading look in her eyes. Whatever was in that box, it was enough to convince the jester that whatever was in it held significant importance to the royal. “Okay, um, I’d like to look at it,” Pomni answered, fidgeting with her hands for a moment.
The queen lit up, like a sun shining in the jester’s direction as the chess piece’s fingers went lift up the lid of the box. As soon as it was removed, Pomni’s breath hitched at the contents on the inside. What laid in the box was nothing short of the twilight sky stitched and sewn together into a ballgown. It was too much, “Your majesty, I can’t have this! Someone like me shouldn’t wear this!”
“Someone like you is perfect for this gown,” Queenie stated. “It was a gift to me in my younger years, from a good friend of mine in another kingdom. She wanted me to wear this, saying that it would be worn when I was with my true love. I never had a chance to wear it, after all Kinger was already courting me and I didn’t feel good enough to wear it. Ironic, I know. However, something tells me that this dress wasn’t meant for me.” She looked away from the gown to face Pomni again. “But perhaps it was for you.”
“I…” Pomni was speechless, truly. The gown that laid in the box looked as though it was worth all the gems in the realm, if she were to wear that, she would literally be wearing that costed millions. Yet the queen believed that it was perfect for her. She had said it so earnestly that Pomni couldn’t find it in herself to turn it away. “Thank you, your majesty,” Pomni bowed, “I promise to take care of it during the ball.”
“As long as you’re having fun as yourself, then that’s all I care about,” the queen told her. “Now, let me help you get ready. I have an idea on what makeup would go well with that gown.”
Pomni giggled as the queen rushing over to her vanity at the other end of the room. Pomni ran her fingers over the gown’s fabric, perhaps she was worth more than what she believed.
.
.
.
Jax pulled at the collar of his shirt. His suit was nowhere near uncomfortable, but it didn’t stop the anxiety coursing through his veins. The suit in question was consisted of a long navy-blue waistcoat, with ruby embroidery along the lapels and cuffs with matching trousers with the same crimson detailed design. Underneath the button coat was a white blouse with a ruffled collar and a pendant on top, with the final addition of his outfit being a red rose tucked into his breast pocket.
Why was he so nervous you ask? It was all because of Pomni. She had yet to arrive, and though the ball hadn’t started yet, both guests and the circus group had already flooded the ballroom. He hadn’t seen any of the nobles yet, well, the nobles that he normally couldn’t stand. When asking his parents about the matter, they had merely shrugged with a mischievous glint in their eyes, yet it told Jax exactly what they did. And they’re still surprised by the fact that I turned out to be a trickster he grinned to himself.
His hands were shaking. What if something happened to her while she was getting ready? What is she hurt herself and wasn’t able to attend? What if Caine somehow managed to get into the castle and swiped her away?! Oh god he had to go get her-!
“Relax prince boy,” a hand grabbed him by the back of his coat, dragging him back before he could run off. He scowled, turning to see who did that, when he came face to face with Gangle and Zooble. The girl he had rudely pushed upon their first meeting, and her justifiably angry partner. “Pomni’s fine, Gangle went to check up on her a while ago.”
“How did you know I was thinking about Pomni?” he questioned, raising a brow.
“Gee, it’s not like you’ve been spending every waking moment glued to her side ever since she came here,” Zooble replied sarcastically, rolling their eyes at the rabbit’s question.
“Zooble,” Gangle hissed, “Be nice, please.” The body of ribbons looked back at him, not as upset as he thought she would be after their interaction when they met. She was wearing a sleeveless gown the same colour as her ribbons, with a full skirt and rubies sewn atop of it. Zooble was wearing a suit of the same colour, no doubt wanting to match his sweet girlfriend. “Pomni will be here soon, your mother kinda overwhelmed her while getting ready.”
The prince sighed. “Of course she did,” he shook his head fondly at Queenie’s direction, the woman was laughing with her husband at whatever joke he had come up with. He looked back to Gangle, who was looking up at Zooble with nothing but love in her eyes, the other doing the same. He hadn’t apologised to her for what he did, yet she still talked to him as though he had only brushed her shoulder on that day. He wouldn’t blame her if she were to be as upset as their hot-headed partner, yet she didn’t. That only made the guilt sting all the more.
She deserved an apology. “Listen, uh, Gangle right?” he asked, making the ribboned lady look up at him with worried eyes. She probably thought that he was going to be mean to her again, it only rubbed more salt into the wound. Jax was sure Zooble was going to kill him right there and then with the way she was glaring at him. He gulped, “Listen, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for how I treated you when we met. It was ignorant and entitled of me to do that to you and how I treated Pomni as well. I genuinely care for your friend and I’m extremely ashamed of how poorly I was to you. I deeply apologize.”
There was shift in the way Gangle looked at him, she didn’t look as worried as she was before, her posture was straighter as she gazed at him with intent in her mind. “Thank you for your apology your highness,” she replied, “Though I’m still not happy with you pushing me, I’m glad you’re able to realise the error of your ways.”
“Of course,” he nodded, “And please, call me Jax. If I’m going to make a fresh start, I would like if you could call me by my name.”
Gangle smiled, a new determination flickering when she saw this new side of the prince, “Very well, thank you Jax.”
“I’m still onto you,” Zooble growled. “But…I’m glad you’re not a total dickhead…you’re still pretty dumb though.”
“Zooble!” Gangle hissed.
A snort escaped from Jax, surprising the couple when a loud belly laugh boomed throughout the ballroom. The laugh lacked any type of maliciousness or was mean-spirited, it was just a hearty yet a pure and honest carefree laugh. “They-” he snickered, “They aren’t wrong! I haven’t had the brightest ideas in my lifetime.”
Both the body of ribbons and the assortment of shapes were a little surprised by the prince’s reaction. They were fairly certain that he would have made some sort of passive aggressive comment or even get angry at Zooble. But no. It was the same sort of laugh that one of them would have whenever Kaufmo told one of his better jokes or when they all had fun as a family. Zooble smirked, “See Gangle, princey doesn’t mind.”
Gangle groaned, rolling her eyes, “What am I gonna do with you?”
“Hmmm, love me forever?” Zooble retorted cheekily, wiggling his eyebrows.
“If I have to,” Gangle couldn’t keep the grin off her face, resting her head onto Zooble’s shoulder.
Jax’s laughter ebbed away, a softness lacing his heart. That tenderness and comfort the couple shared with one another, he couldn’t help but imagine it with him and Pomni. To let her feel safe with him no matter what, to share sweet moments with him with no other prying eyes. But after tonight, she’ll be gone, along with his wish for all of that. All this because of a power-hungry man who kept her in a state of fright ever since childhood, it wasn’t fair for someone as sweet as Pomni.
“Ah, I see the prince has graced our presence,” a soft voice spoke. He looked up to see that it was Ragatha’s voice he had heard, with Sun and Moon by her side and Kaufmo trailing behind her. She looked towards Gangle and Zooble, “He hasn’t given you two any trouble, has he?”
“Quite the opposite, actually,” Zooble said, “He came over to apologise to Gangle.”
Ragatha raised a brow, shifting a little bit in her place, as if this were a small shock to her. “Did he know?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Zooble nodded, what they said next made it look like they were going to hurl just having to form it into words. “I guess I was…wrong about him. Oh god I hated saying that.” 
“Oh,” was all Ragatha said. The doll in question was wearing a backless gown of midnight blue, sleek and sparkling, no puffiness in sight as long skirt trailed behind her. She wore long silky white gloves and half of her curls were pinned up into a bun while the other red locks pooled around her shoulders.
Moon was wearing something similar, though hers was pure black with little stars stitched onto the fabric, with a double leg slit and a feathered scarf around her shoulders. Sun was wearing a red and yellow striped waistcoat and trousers, along with a simple white blouse and a black bowtie wrapped around the collar.
Lastly was Kaufmo, whose waistcoat and trousers were sewn with a fine grey silk with what seemed to be music notes embroidered into the lapels and cuffs. He pulled at the collar a few times, he hadn’t worn something like this before so it was a bit new to him. But he looked happy with his new attire.
“Well,” Ragatha’s voice broke Jax out of his trance again, “I’m glad you weren’t up to anything foolish, after all I still have two very hungry lions.”
“Don’t forget the meat cleaver you have darling,” Moon pointed out, “It would be such a shame to see such a lovely tool go to waste.”
“Uh…and I’m here!” Sun cheered, not wanting to be left out. While it did relieve some of the tension, it didn’t stop Jax from shrinking under the glares of the women.
“While I support your protection over my daughter,” Kaufmo interrupted, placing a hand on Ragatha’s shoulder, “Let’s wait until the prince does anything before charging headfirst. Besides, something tells me that he would want to join in with that protection as well.” The clown gave Jax a knowing wink. “But make no mistake, you hurt her and not even the guards will stop Ragatha and Moon with what they want to do with you.”
Jax gulped, “Understood, sir.” Despite the obvious threat, the fact that he had Kaufmo’s acknowledgement about how much he cared for Pomni made Jax want to sing. The clown trusted the prince, and Jax wasn’t going to let him down. Pomni mattered to him just as much as she mattered to Kaufmo, there was no way he was going to break that trust.
“I’m surprised that little Motley cat isn’t with you,” Sun said, “Other than Pomni, you two are practically glued together.”
Jax was about to open his mouth to say another word, until a small mew interrupted him. The group looked at him with wide eyes, the sound not going unnoticed. The rabbit sighed, reaching into the side of his coat pocket and pulled Motley out, the little kitten wearing a blue bowtie around his neck.
Everyone’s mouth fell open, it was quite the sight indeed.
“This little bugger insisted that he should join me tonight,” Jax defended.
“Right, a non-speaking animal somehow managed to convince you to let him come to the ball,” Zooble drawled with doubt.
Jax frowned, though he didn’t feel mad. So far, everything was going well. The guests were happy, he had Motley in his arms, there were no sign of the nobles, the music was lovely, the food was delicious, his parents were delighted and he had won over the favour of the circus group. All that was missing is-
“-Pomni,” Kaufmo’s eyed widened as he gazed up to the staircase leading out of the ballroom.
The rest of the group followed the clown’s eyes, their own jaws dropping when they say who he was looking at. The rest of the ballroom had gone silent as well, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Jax whipped round, wondering why everyone was reacting the way they did…oh…he understood perfectly now.
Pomni stood at the top of the staircase, the only way to describe how she looked was breathtaking. Her gown was the most beautiful shade of purple, startling at a light pinkish lavender at the top as it faded into an amethyst shade in the middle before finishing in a plum shade at the bottom. Her skirt was full, layered with organza, rippling like raindrops on a pond. The top of the gown had off-the-shoulder sleeves with a sweetheart neckline, with glistening gem at the centrepiece. And the whole gown twinkled with little diamonds stitched into the fabric. She wore simple makeup, with her normally short hair curled and now reaching her shoulder as it gleamed under the chandeliers.
She clenched her hands, there were so many eyes on her. She didn’t have the façade of her jester persona to help her out, it was only her they were all looking at. Gathering herself, she managed a small curtsey, the shimmering layers of her skirt pooling around her. She stood again, her gown swishing as she made her way down the steps.
Jax couldn’t wipe the awestruck grin he had on his face even if he tried. Not even the stars could compare with how beautiful she looked. He handed Motley over to Kaufmo, “Sir, if you may. Could I please lead your daughter for the first dance?”
Kaufmo smiled, running his hand over the kitten’s back as he purred, “Go on, give her a dream come true.”
Not wasting a beat, Jax turned back to Pomni. He wasn’t sure if he saw him yet, so ever so slowly, he made his way towards her, the rest of the guests parting to let him through.
They had done the same with Pomni, giving her the room she needed yet not being able to take their eyes off her. A little part of her liked the attention, they weren’t drawn to her for powers or the act she had to put on, they were drawn to her for simply being her. This new feeling was strange, but nice…really nice.
She let out a small gasp when she finally saw Jax, how handsome he looked in his garments and how he looked at her as though she were the only person in the room. Her heart fluttered seeing him, making her way towards him as he did the same. Finally they met in the middle of the room, the only ones in the middle of the ballroom floor, their eyes locked onto one another.
“Prince Jax,” she breathed.
“My lady,” his voice held nothing but adoration for her. “You look absolutely exquisite.”
“I’ve been praying all day not to trip in this,” she whispered, “I think I would perish if I ruined something as lovely as this.”
  “That would be a shame, you look too beautiful in it,” Jax murmured, “Um. Pomni, would you do me the honour of letting me lead you through this first…” he trailed off. Could you blame him? She was positively stunning.
“…Dance?” she finished for him, a small grin forming on her lips.
“Uh, yes of course, dance,” he stuttered, laughing awkwardly.
Pomni took pity on him, nodding excitedly. Call her childish, but it was nothing short of magical that she actually got to dance like the princesses she read about in fairytales.
Jax’s face fell, a serious look took over yet his eyes were still soft as he brought his hand forward, pulling Pomni closer to him. The girl’s breath hitched, with these newfound feelings she had for Jax, it made this touch all the more significant. A shiver ran down her spine.
The music of the orchestra began, filling the ballroom with the sounds of the many violinists and pianists’ instruments, a soft yet heavenly tune echoing in the room. Ever so gently, Jax began to sway, with Pomni repeating his movements. Pomni gulped as he led her further into the dance, she could feel everyone’s stares despite having her back to them. Who wouldn’t? After all, she was the prince’s choice to lead the first dance with. “They’re all looking at you,” she whispered.
“Believe me,” he grinned, “They’re all looking at you.”
Normally she would have panicked at that sentence, but the gentle grasp of his warm hand on her waist kept her attention on him. He picked up her forearm with his, letting it glide up and down, “Just focus on me, okay? And follow my lead.”
Pomni nodded, her once quickening heart slowing down as she gazed into his eyes. He took her hand, carefully spinning her before she held she gently grazed the knuckles of said hand against his cheek. He threaded his fingers through her, spinning her again as the skirts of her gown fluttered around her, giving her the appearance of a butterfly.
The repeated the range of movements a few more times before Jax wrapped his arm around her waist again, pulling her closer than he did before, their noses inches from each other as he clasped his free hand into hers again. Pomni’s breath stuttered as their feet travelled around the empty space, never in her life had she felt anything so surreal, so euphoric in all her life. A carefree laugh escaped her lips as both she and Jax spun again, the prince doing the same as the picture of her lovely smile imprinted into his mind again.
He released the grip on her waist to twirl her onto the empty space on the floor, the rest of the crowd aweing at the way her gown glittered each time she spun left and right while holding onto Jax’s hand.
Not even the rest of the circus troupe could erase the butterflies they were having just by the way the prince and the jester looked at one another. It was right out of a love story. “I can’t disagree, they would make a beautiful couple,” Kaufmo remarked, with Motley letting out an agreeable mew in his arms.
“I suppose so,” Ragatha nodded, “As long as he doesn’t hurt her.”
“Don’t worry my dears, rest assured that my son would never do the following,” Queenie told them as she and Kinger snuck up behind the group.
“Your majesties,” Ragatha gasped, the rest of them quickly bowing, “Please forgive me for saying that.”
“Oh that’s alright,” Queenie snickered, “Jax has caused one too many incidents to have a reputation that’s worth your worry.”
“Though I will say, your Pomni has him wrapped around her finger,” Kinger mused as he watched the due dancing on the floor. “I haven’t seen this side of my son in so long, until your daughter arrived Kaufmo.”
“Pomni has always found a way to bright the best out in others,” Kaufmo told them, “Whether they know she’s doing it or not.”
Kinger hummed in agreement, “I can confidently say that without a doubt, this is the best ball this kingdom has ever seen.” Kaufmo nodded, the two fathers turning to look back at their children, smiling at seeing how happy they were together.
Jax had twirled Pomni a few times, still holding her by the waist until he picked her up in both arms and held her high up above him, twirling her in the air as the crowd oo’ed and clapped for the sudden display. Though it was silent compared to the chimes of her giggles at the sudden motions, bringing her back down to face level. Neither of them could stop glancing at each other’s lips, the temptation to swoop down and capture them growing stronger.
Before he could give into it, he saved himself by dipping Pomni once more time as the music slowed. It was for the best, she would be leaving tomorrow. He didn’t want to sour things more for her, not when they had come so far. He could tell by the way she was looking at him that she was silently agreeing, what they had right now was good, good enough in fact.
The music slowed to a stop, with Pomni curtsying and Jax bowing respectively as the crowd thunder into applause. The first dance of the night was a success.
They allowed themselves to breathe for a movement, unable to take their eyes off each other before the music started up again, more fun and livelier than the last. More couples ran onto the floor, including the king and queen as they chortled together while reminiscing how they used to dance when they were younger. Gangle had pulled Zooble onto the floor, squealing with excitement at the thought of dancing with her partner. Even Moon and Ragatha had decided to dance together, the latter shocked when her friend took her hand and led her into a dance.
Pomni and Jax were still together, and quite frankly, they didn’t see themselves dancing with anyone but with one another. And so, they danced again. And again, and again, and again…
After a few songs, they did have to stop eventually, panting heavily and needing food as well as drink. “I must say, you dance pretty good for someone so short,” Jax snickered, handing her a glass of water.
“Shut up, I’m just glad you didn’t stand on my dress,” Pomni retorted, giggling into her glass. She gulped down as much as she could, especially with what she was planning to do next. “Do you mind waiting for a second? There’s something I need to take care of.”
“Oh, of course, is everything alright?” he asked as she handed him back her glass.
“Yes, everything’s fine,” she reassured him, “There’s just something that I need to do.”
“Well, whatever it is, you take care of yourself,” He told her, “Alright?”
Pomni nodded, patting his hand reassuringly before disappearing into the crowd, Jax sighing fondly as he watched her walk away. He nearly jumped when he felt something rub against his leg, looking and scoffing when he saw that it was Motley. “Of course it’s you, you little shit,” he muttered, scooping up the kitten with one hand, “Alright, you had your fun. Now you’re in time out.”
“Well I must say,” Jax turned when he heard his mother’s voice, “I think this is the most you two haven’t been able to keep your hands off one another.”
“Mom!” he groaned, his ears flopping down and pressing against the back of his head as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
“What? I’m just making an observation,” she shrugged, “It does make sense though, with her leaving tomorrow.”
His ears perked back up at the mention of that, his tail twitching in discomfort. Although that statement would ring true every time he heard it, it didn’t mean he liked it. He wanted to get on his knees, beg Pomni to stay with him, stay in the kingdom where she would never worry about feeling afraid ever again. But he knew that it wouldn’t be fair for either of them. He knew as much as she wanted the freedom of her own life, the freedom of this choice was all she could have. And he didn’t want to make her feel guilty about having to travel again. Even if it meant she would be further away from him.
“I…I really love her mother,” he said, earnestly and honestly. “I have become an ocean and Pomni is a storm, raining down on me strongly without resistance, but my waters are able to take her strengths, faults, everything. But I know that…I can’t have her.”
Queenie’s face fell, her son had never looked so vulnerable in that moment. It reminded her how she felt when she fell in love with Kinger when she was her son’s age. “Oh darling,” she murmured, cupping his cheek in her hand. Even Motley had climbed up onto the prince’s shoulder, rubbing his fluffy face against Jax’s face to comfort him.
The queen was going to say another word when a single strum of a guitar made the room go silent. Both the queen and prince turned, for on the stage with the rest of the musicians was Pomni, holding onto her guitar as she looked out onto the crowd. She looked positively petrified, there were more people here than there was at the festival, the confidence slipping as doubt crept into her mind.
But when her eyes caught Jax’s, and as he smiled at her with the upmost reassurance, the doubt started to melt. She could do this, taking a breath as she faced her new audience, “This is a song that I wrote during my stay here. It’s a little bit different than what I’ve written before but I hope you all enjoy.” Her fingers pricked at the strings of her guitar before her voice rang like a bell as she began to sing.
Honey, I hate wine
But I’d gladly down a bottle of your name
Just to get another taste of you
A single drop not on my tongue would be a waste
The audience seemed to be enjoying so far, leaning next to their partners or spouses as Pomni continued to sing.
And I hate mornings
But I like waking next to you
You always wake up before I do
So I can sleep in your embrace
We burn like gentle firewood
We yearn like vines and leaves
And we settle in the comfort of
The bones that rest beneath
And I’d start drinking wine and sleeping at night
To keep your soul with mine
I’d do anything, anything, anything
Anything, anything, anything
Pomni could hear the distant murmurs in the crowd, murmurs of praise and how much they enjoyed her simple song. Her heart nearly skipped a beat form excitement as the rest of her doubts faded away. People liked her songs, people liked her. Her songs meant something!
Honey, I hate travel
But I’d man a boat to glimpse you at the shore
No stretch of miles would ever mean more
Than feeling my hands wrapped around your waist
And I hate time
The minutes shared will never last enough
No amount of time will ever be too much
And parting leaves a bitter taste
At that last word, Pomni turned her attention to Jax, who was patting the side off his leg at each beat of the song. She thought she would hate him, she despised him when hearing about all the rumours that built over the years. But now, nothing tasted as sour than the idea of leaving him tomorrow.
We burn like gentle firewood
We yearn like vines and leaves
And we settle in the comfort of
The bones that rest beneath
And I’d stop staying home and wasting time
To keep your soul with mine
I’d do anything, anything, anything
Anything, anything, anything
She would. She would do anything to change the fate that life had given them. She wanted to have that choice to stay. Jax’s eyes never left hers, not even more a second as he smiled with all the warmth he could muster. If this was truly their last night together, she was going to make it count.
And I love rain
But I’d ruin every cashmere coat I own
Before I let it wash off any kiss you stole
So they’ll keep us dry as I walk you home
We burn like gentle firewood
We yearn like vines and leaves
And we settle in the comfort of
The bones that rest beneath
And I’d lose every penny that I find
To keep your soul with mine
I’d do anything, anything, anything
Anything, anything, anything
With that final strum of her guitar, she finished her song. There was a beat, it felt like years to Pomni as she waited to hear the crowd’s final thoughts on her song. Suddenly, the audience erupted into applause, grins nearly splitting their faces.
She let out a sigh of relief, they really did like it. She placed her guitar backstage as she walked away, letting the band strike up again. She strolled towards Jax, determination set in her mind, she meant it when she said she was going to make this night count. “Another dance your highness?” she asked when she got close to him, holding out her hand, “Or are you afraid I’ll look better than you?”
Jax took her hand into his, his smile matching hers, “Little lady, you could trip and you would still look better than me.”
Pomni hummed, “You’re right, I would.”
They snickered as they want back to the dance floor, dancing the night away until the ball came to an end. It was the most magical thing Pomni had done without her powers.
.
.
.
Jax groaned as he sat up in his bed. He had been trying to get to sleep for the past few hours, but he could still feel the tingles of where Pomni’s hands had been on him while dancing. That night was going to be burned in his brain for the rest of his life. He wished she was here right now, to hold her while she ran her fingers through his ears, his fur, wherever she wanted as long as he felt that simple lingering touch.
The prince sighed, shifting as he reached his hand to find Motley, onto to find that the feline was nowhere to be found on the bed. Don’t tell me that little cretin went back down to go ham on those leftovers. He threw the sheets off his bed, ready to exit the room when there were three soft knocks on his door.
Strange, the servants didn’t use that knock and neither did his parents. He opened the door, it was Pomni holding a purring Motley. “I, um, thought I’d return him,” she spoke quietly, her voice breaking slightly, “He woke me up.”
Jax didn’t take him just yet instead leaning in slightly closer to inspect Pomni’s face. His heart plummeted when he saw dried tear stains on her cheeks, “Have you been crying?”
“W-what?” Pomni stammered, “N-no, of course not! I-it’s probably-”
“Pomni,” he spoke sternly, “I know when someone had been crying, I’m not that dumb. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”
She took a breath, walking into his room as Jax shut the door behind him. She sat on the edge of his bed, the prince sitting next to her as she cuddled Motley closer. “I sometimes have really bad nightmares,” she told him. “Well, I’ve always had them but they got worse when we escaped Caine and he came after us. Some of them are about ways on how he’d find us and how he’d make us suffer, others are…well, memories of growing up in the circus…”
Jax brows furrowed as the girl curled in on herself, making her seem smaller than usual, “And I’m guessing you had one now?”
She sniffed, nodding her head as Motley pushed his face into her neck, purring as much as he could to give comfort to the girl. Jax brought her into his arms, she let out a surprised squeak as he rubbed a hand up and down her back. “It’s okay, you’re safe here,” he told her, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know,” she whimpered, easing into his touch, “But I won’t be here tomorrow. And I know no one has seen Caine, but it doesn’t stop the fact that he’s still out there looking for us…looking for me.”
Jax wanted to kick himself for saying that. Why her? Why did the universe make her go through the hardest trails life had to offer? It wasn’t fair. “I know what you’re going to say if I asked you,” he ran his fingers through her hair, “But I wished in another life, you could stay.”
“Jax, I…I wish I could too,” she cried, burying her face in his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that. But, just for tonight, stay…with me?” She peered up at him through her lashes, his fingers wiping her tears away. “For one night, please…be mine?”
She wrapped her hand around his, bringing it up to her face to cup her cheek, “I am yours, as you are mine.”
“For you Pomni,” he mumbled, carrying her over to the middle of his bed and laying her down, “Always.”
That night, they slept in each other’s arms. That night, they pretended tomorrow didn’t exist. That night, they weren’t Prince of Laphria or jester of the traveling circus. That night they were Pomni and Jax, two people in love.
.
.
.
Kaufmo let out a grunt as he closed the door of the trunk connected to the circus carriage, “I think that’s everything.”
“I’ll say,” Zooble whistled, “I feel like we have more than we did at the last place.”
“Well we were here longer than we have been in other places,” Pomni pointed out.
The circus troupe was outside the palace doors, finally ready to leave. The king and queen had guards to travel with them to their next location, to make sure they would have the extra protection they needed in case Caine was nearby. It had been a wonderful dream here, but like all dreams, it had to end.
Pomni was wearing the same dress she wore when she first came to the kingdom, her simple blouse, corset and pink skirt. She gave the palace one more look, out of all the places she had been to, this one was her favourite. And now she had to leave.
“The king, queen and prince had already given us our goodbyes,” said Ragatha, holding onto Moon’s hand. “Our we ready to go?”
Kaufmo looked to his daughter, “What do you say kiddo? Ready to go?”
Pomni sighed as she turned to her father, he frowned as he saw her downed expression. He hated seeing her like that. She was going to open her mouth to speak when-
“-Pomni!” Jax, it was Jax. She whipped round and saw the prince running out the palace doors and towards her.
“Jax? What’s wrong?” she asked, running over to him.
“I know we already said our goodbye inside,” he explained, “But I needed to do one more thing before you leave.”
Pomni nodded, looking back at the rest of her family, “I’ll be a minute, you finish packing.” The rest of the circus gave each other knowing looks, doing as they were told when Pomni gave them a glare. When they went back to packing, she turned back to Jax, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” his voice sounded nervous, “I just…I want you to have Motley.”
She gasped as she looked at the kitten held in Jax’s arms, the little feline already jumping into hers, “Me? Why?”
“Little monster likes you better than me, traitor,” he frowned at Motley.
Pomni stifled a laugh, “He’s a sweetheart, admit it. Plus, he loves you too. I can’t separate you too.”
“Hey, I’ll be okay,” Jax told her, “Besides, it’s better if he goes with you, to let him be a reminder of this place and…of me.”
Her breath was caught in her throat at those words, nothing could ever make her forget all that he had done for her. “Are you sure?” Pomni asked, scratching behind Motley’s ears.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he bent his knees to be eye level with the kitten. “Listen here bud, you’ve got an important mission. In case Pomni gets into trouble, I want you to protect her. If you need backup, you know where to find me. Understand?”
Mew
Motley lifted his paw, it hit Jax directly on the nose.
“Good,” Jax straightened his back, “So I guess this is my final goodbye.”
Pomni bit her lip, reaching up to kiss Jax’s cheek one last time, “Thank you for reminding me how magical life can be.”
Jax’s breath hitched. He could barely recover from her hands, how could he recover from her lips?! She gave him a tiny grin, that jester was going to be the death of him, “You’re welcome Pomni.”
With that, she curtsied once more before running back to the carriage and hopping inside. There was a call from Kaufmo upfront as he pulled on the reins connected to the horses on front, giving them the command to walk as the guards followed on their own horses.
Jax watched as the carriage was pulled further away from him. And further, and further, and further. Then, it was gone. Pomni was gone.
He sighed, lifting his feet and going back into the castle. He didn’t retreat to his room or to his studies though. In fact, hours after the circus had left, he had been pacing back in forth in the throne room, his arms crossed behind his back while the prince was deep in thought. It caused the staff to alert the king and queen at once, leaving the royals to watch their son as he continued to pace.
“Oh the poor boy,” Queenie cooed as she peered through the crack of the door, “Pomni must have left quite the impact.”
“Tell me about it,” Kinger agreed, “I’m fairly certain that his brain has never worked that hard in its life.”
“Shush,” Queenie whacked him lightly on the shoulder, “This is a good thing. It’s not the bad type of thinking he’s having.”
“Then what exactly is on his mind then?” Kinger titled his head to the side.
“Well there’s only one way to find out,” she took her husband’s hand leading him into the throne room. Jax didn’t even notice them come in, still pacing back and forth as his mind kept storming. “What are you thinking about darling?”
The prince let out a yelp, jumping a few feet before facing his parents with a hand to his heart, “You have to stop sneaking up on me like that!”
“I apologise, but you’ve been so caught up in your head for the past few hours,” Queenie told him, her brows furrowing with concern, “We were worried.”
“Please,” Kinger went up to his son, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Tell us what’s on your mind.”
“Well I…,” Jax sighed, clenching and opening his fists, feeling slightly anxious for what he was going to say next. He hadn’t said or done anything that he was thinking about right now, only hoping that it was the right thing to say and do. “I’ve been having a lot of perspective for the past few weeks, about my place in the world and my role as prince. Even since I was young, I was told that I didn’t belong, that I never deserved my title and I started to believe it. I pitied myself for so long that it blinded me to the potential that I had for myself and for the people of my kingdom. When Pomni came into my life, it opened my eyes to see how fortunate I actually am and what I can be able to do. Knowing what she went through, it made me realise just how privileged and lucky I am, and how I’m able to use my power do help people like her. The nobles were wrong about me, wrong about my dreams being too childish, there is nothing childish about wanting better in this kingdom.”
He took a deep breath before continuing, “That’s why I wanna open a home, a home for people who need to seek shelter if they don’t have it, whether they are from our kingdom or somewhere else. To protect them and give them a life until they can stand on their feet again. I want to give them the safety and security that they were denied. I know that I’m able to do this, I want to do this. I am worth the title of Prince and Heir of Laphria.”
Both Queenie and Kinger were speechless, never before had they heard their son speak with the most graceful confidence. This wasn’t like the times when he spoke with arrogance, no, nothing that he had said held no vanity or selfishness. For the first time, he was speaking like a true prince. “That’s a wonderful idea Jax,” Kinger beamed, sharing a pleased look with his wife, “And you doubted that you’d be a good king.”
“Look at my baby growing up,” Queenie cupped his cheeks in her hands, pressing little kisses to his forehead and cheeks as the rabbit flushed.
“M-mom!” he tried not to grin at the attention, but his wagging tail gave him away.
Mew
He froze at a familiar meow, facing the window when he heard something scratching at it. There was a small little blob on the other side, is that? Jax opened the window, Motley immediately jumping into his arms. “Woah, woah buddy what are you doing here?” he checked him over, his front little paw was bruised as the poor thing was shaking, “What happened?”
The doors of the throne room slammed open, two guards panting and bleeding as they staggered through. “Oh goodness! Someone assist them and get them some water!” Queenie demanded to the nearby maids, the royals and servants rushing over to them. They were led to one of the nearby sitting rooms, urged to sit down and drink until they could get their energy back to speak. One of the servants had brought an ice pack for Motley, Jax immediately took it and held it to his paw while another servant wrapped his paw.
“Easy buddy,” he whispered to the kitten, still trembling in fear. “You’re okay.”
“Don’t force yourself,” Kinger instructed when one of the guards tried to begin speaking, “Tell us what happened at your own pace.”
“We…ugh…we were leading the circus through the forest, there was no sign of danger so far,” the guard began to describe the scene. “But they appeared out of nowhere. We tried to fight back but they were too strong, as though they were having some assistance.”
“What are you talking about? Who attacked you?” Jax was starting to panic. The circus had been promised safe travel and if anything happened to them…he didn’t want to imagine it.
“Caine,” the guard continued, “He and his men jumped out and attacked us. We had the upper hand but then there was this red mist and…” he trailed off, his pupils shrinking as he remembered the horrors of what his mind had deceived him with.
“Easy, easy,” the queen soothed him. “The circus, are they alright?”
“We don’t know,” the second guard spoke up, “We were lucky enough to escape to come back and warn you, but…”
“But? But what?!” Jax raised his voice, he didn’t mean to but fear was rushing through is veins. If anything happened to-
“Pomni,” the guard said, making Jax’s heart stop. “Before we escaped, Caine took Pomni.”
Song Credit: Anything, Anything, Anything by Madds Buckley
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anamelessfool · 11 months ago
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Valise (AO3)
From my "Domestics" Ficlet Series
GEN Young Secondo (b. 1961) (1969)
(Illustration by Me...Yes, he is supposed to look like Damien from the Omen)
8 year old Secondo is a touring piano prodigy, and his mother supports him every step of the way. An unexpected visitor arrives at the Ministry HQ.
Tags: domestic fluff, Secondo the child prodigy, mother and son relationship, this is why he is so intense, Enjoy my Google Translate Italian, Maybe I should send this to my Therapist, Sorta Sad Fluff Because That's My Brand
First and foremost dedicated to @fishwithtitz once more for asking me about Secondo after reading my Kid Primo stuff.
Ficlet below the cut!
1969
She was always there. Sister Rebecca. His mother. Secondo stole a glance across the top of the piano to the velvety darkness of stage right. He could tell she was there by the soft gleam of her perfectly round glasses. Secondo gave a nod, then refocused himself on the piano keys before him.
This tour season she had planned for him a program highlighting the greats of Chopin’s work He had grown quite a bit since his debut at six, and so he was able to reach more keys with greater accuracy. The theater was packed, the audience on the edge of their seats astounded at how such a young mind could comprehend the complexities of piano performance. He was on tempo and accurate—but then again any trained monkey could be that with enough practice. They were drawn to his surprising sensitivity on the keys, his understanding of drama and atmosphere that went way beyond his years.
Secondo didn't care whether he played in the common room of the Ministry or a packed orpheum in New York City, in both places his brain worked the same. His fingers moved and the sound fell out, a puzzle to massage his brooding mind. They were the soundtrack of the visions he had in his imagination brought on by all the paperbacks he read in the Ministry limousine as he toured up and down New England.
A leviathan of cosmic horror, its impossibly great head rising from the sea.
Moriarty and Sherlock, entangled as they plunged headfirst down the falls.
A corpse’s heart, beating under the floor in defiance of its murderer.
Rough beasts, their hour come at last, slouching towards Bethlehem.
He finished the piece with a flourish, bowing solemnly. His mother was always the first one to applaud.
When they traveled, which was often, she insisted they stay at the finest rooms in the finest hotels. Her businesslike, steely expression was usually enough to ensure their stay there was one of ease and opulence, and she tipped everyone handsomely besides. “Yes, and the room needs to have a phone. It is essential.”
“There is a time to perform and a time to rest,” she told her son once. “Commit to each season fully.”
Except it seemed like she never truly rested. The Personal Assistant to Mother Imperator rarely does. They would have a meal in the hotel suite, or go to a play or opera performance in each city they visited, but she was always peering into her datebook or calling the Ministry in the theater phonebooth during intermissions. Secondo would hold her drink while she made plans and kept appointments across the world.
Back at the hotel, the calls and note taking would continue, this time on the elegant historical phone of the penthouse, at least until she felt everything was laid out well enough before going to bed.
“No, it's not possible, but you have to make it work.” Click. Her datebook would snap open, and she'd dial the rotary phone again for another check in. Whirrrr, whirrr, whirrr.
“Nihil will be on tour the fifteenth through the second. Yes, the venues are all approved.” Click. Snap. Whirrr, whirr, whirrr.
Then she would pull out an array of languages. A full half hour conversation in Italian. Three requests in Portuguese, a demand in Spanish from another caller across the world. A stilted yet firm discussion in broken German (she struggled with that one, but it was on her list).
Secondo, still warm from his bath, would close his eyes in the other bed. There was the soft murmuring of phone call after phone call. The efficient scratching of a fountain pen. The impatient tapping of her fingernails across the desk. She would turn to check on him and through his eyelashes he saw once more the gleam of her spectacles, the white gold glitter of the smart brooch at her throat. He started to drift off to sleep to the quiet efficient sounds of his mother at work.
“Yes, I'm away now. Our tour is going well. My son and I are having a lovely time. Yes, he is doing so well. Talented through and through.”
***
“And what brooch shall I wear today, boy?” She would ask him each day, after putting up her hair and putting away her ivory combs. Secondo would peer across the open jewelry case, the finery enclosed and separated with black velvet dividers, a stable of jewels. He would pick one and hand it to her. She never refused his selection.
“How is my watch today, boy?” Would be the next thing she would ask about. Secondo would already be prepared with it. It was a thin ladies wristwatch over forty years old and still pristine. It was a big moment for him when he was allowed to take care of it. He would make sure it was wound each day, opening the back to see the small gears whirring smoothly like the action of a song bird's heart. He would polish the white gold surface, check the fittings on the square cut sapphires. Under his care he wanted it to run for another four hundred years.
“We are going back home today,” she said. “The tour is over. The car is picking us up at the front in an hour. Is everything accounted for, boy?”
Secondo inspected the entire jewelry case, making sure all was there. He even considered the secret panel underneath, where a few hundred dollar bills were stored. He nodded solemnly, the most dutiful little butler she'd ever employed.
Secondo was the only one allowed to carry her travel case of jewelry. It was a small valise of ostrich leather with engraved brass to protect the corners. He was the only other one who knew the combination. When they traveled he never let his hand leave the handle. He had once seen a spy movie where a man had a handcuff and chain attached to a secret spy suitcase, and that really stirred his imagination.
I'm going to protect these, Secondo would think, and the idea of fighting off bandits and thieves with his teeth and fists would send a thrill through his little body. I'm going to defend these with my life.
***
Secondo stared out the window of the Ministry limousine, watching the ascent of the car into the canopy of old growth as they returned home. When there was nothing to say he and his mother Rebecca chose to say nothing. They sat in a silence that was comfortable to them, the soft scratching of her pen in her little datebook lulling him into calm.
Rebecca closed the book with a business-like click, elegantly stowing it in her coat breast pocket. Secondo watched the little flash of red shagreen vanish into the black wool.
“Boy.” Rebecca’s face showed nothing. She peered at him with a corvid intensity, then leaned forward, her strong nose mere inches from his face. An eyebrow twitched exactly once. “What do we have here?”
Second stared back with an equal level of stoicism, although there was the slight fluttering of anticipation behind his ribs. His mother reached out by the side of his head, feigning dramatic surprise. “Look!” She hissed. A wrapped caramel miraculously appeared from his ear, and she solemnly placed it in his hands. “Don't I tell you to wash your ears, boy?” She teased.
At that, Secondo smiled broadly, unwrapping and savoring the treat. Rebecca gave her son's knee a single pat. “Excellent work once again, my Secondo. I would not expect anything less.”
“Will we go again next year?” He asked.
“If you want,” she said.
“Europe?”
Rebecca frowned. “Not until you're older. These little tours are too much as it is on you. I know you enjoy the spotlight, boy, but you do have the rest of your life to stand under it.”
Secondo tightened his grip on the handle of her jewelry valise, glowering at the ridges of the leather seat across from him. “Why can't I be old enough right now?”
“Secondo—” and he snapped bolt upright, looking into her eyes. She used his name mostly when he was in trouble. She pulled off her glasses and began to clean them with a cloth from her jacket. The thick glasses concealed the tired wrinkles under her blue eyes. “Great men are good boys first. If you're going to be Papa Emeritus, you need to start now. And you are on the path. One step at a time.”
“But Nihil…” Secondo found it hard to understand how his proper mother ever spent a moment enjoying the presence of his freewheeling bohemian father. He suspected Rebecca felt the same.
Rebecca replaced her glasses. “I said that you are going to be a great man, Secondo.”
As the limo pulled into the circular driveway Secondo noticed two figures and some luggage standing under the front portico. Rebecca looked unusually puzzled as she helped her son out of the vehicle. One of the figures was a tall man in a very opulent fur-lined cape. He had the headwear and glittering grucifix that announced his station as a Cardinal, although he was not anyone Secondo had ever seen before. The second figure was much smaller and shyly stood behind the visitor. He was so small and hidden that Secondo assumed he was some sort of pet.
“Sister Rebecca, buon Giorno.” The Cardinal’s voice was merry, sing-songy. Foreign. “They had said you are one I will be needing a seeing, yes?” He bowed his great graying head. “I am Cardinal Raphael, sono di Milano.”
“Parlo fluentemente l'italiano, Excellenze,” said Rebecca. “How can I help you.”
Raphael’s shoulders lowered in a moment of relief. “Dov'è il Papa Emeritus questo pomeriggio? Sono qui per Sua Eccellenza.”
“è fuori. in questo momento è a San Francisco.”
“Ah, si, si…”
The two adults chattered on the step. Secondo held his mother’s hand as he observed the other visitor beside the Italian, who was slowly inching into view.
Holding onto the Cardinal’s belt end was a very small figure, bundled up. Above the mountain of his knit scarf and below the too-big beret, little cat-like eyes sparkled. It was a boy about half Secondo’s age, or younger. He had a cardboard suitcase on which a child drew a cartoon flower.
“Shall we go inside?” Rebecca finished the conversation. “You did not come all this way to stand on these steps. Come.”
A few moments later and Rebecca offered the visitors a seat at the sofa of a receiving room. She smiled as the adults settled in. Secondo took a seat in a nearby armchair, still holding the precious valise in his hand. The new boy struggled a bit with getting up onto the couch but sat there obediently, swinging his legs.
“Now,” Rebecca said, done with the pleasantries. “Why have you come all this way today, Cardinal.”
Cardinal Raphael swept out his hand. “Questo è il figlio di Papa Emeritus.” The little boy beside the cardinal blinked his eyes wide, checking in with his mentor. The Cardinal raised his bushy eyebrows, gesturing slightly with his hands. The boy screwed up his face in an attempt at nobility and bobbed his head slightly in a bow.
Rebecca’s mouth was now a thin line. “Oh? Is that so?”
“The em…his Eminence’s tour of Italy was er…in the 1964 and the 1965.”
“It most certainly was,” replied Rebecca. Her hand imperceptibly clenched the edge of her sofa chair. “I planned every last detail.”
“Perhaps not,” replied the Cardinal with a good natured chuckle, but upon seeing Rebecca’s icy expression he swallowed his own. Time crawled as she stared into him, tapping her fingers on her chair. If a sinkhole ripped open beneath the Cardinal's feet dropping him into the depths of the planet, he would thank Satan for the opportunity.
Rebecca solemnly pulled off her glasses and rested them on the side table. She arranged the datebook and fountain pen beside them, and rose to her feet. “Cardinale, mi scuso.”
She backed away elegantly, opening the parlor doors behind her and slipping inside. The Cardinal seemed to be a decently friendly man, since he attempted to break the tense silence by leaning over to address Secondo. “So eh, you….baseball?”
There was a shattering sound against a wall in the parlor. It sounded like a plate falling to pieces. Afterwards there came a great toppling noise of wood on wood, a pop and crack of carpentry destroyed under a foot. Then a wrathful scream was drowned out by the rushing, creaking crash of something large sliding to the floor. The tinkling of glass and a ceramic explosion suggested the victim to be an entire hutch of dinnerware.
The plates on the floor settled and Rebecca once more emerged, softly closing the door behind her and returning to her seat. Her face was as calm as it always was. She brought her items into her hands, writing something quickly in her book, then replacing in her jacket. “Secondo, I'm not sure if I want to buy your father a suitcase or a coffin.”
Cardinal Raphael shook his head and chuckled, but immediately recoiled once more at the glare thrown at him across the room.
The conversation became low, almost silent, the Cardinal gesturing with his hands as if he were a fencing opponent. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to Rebecca, who snatched it from his hands and glared at the words.
Secondo observed the little boy who was smiling to himself and admiring the carved wood paneling in the opulent receiving room. The boy noticed Secondo and presented him with a friendly mischievous grin.
Secondo frowned suspiciously back. He pulled the jewelry valise even closer to his chest.
The hushed conversation continued around them. Secondo had no idea what they were saying, but he attempted to understand the small snippets he heard.
Ci siamo presi cura di loro... quattro anni... torre della cattedrale... suicidio... è solo…
“Fine,” Rebecca said, neatly folding the note. She glanced over to Secondo, then back to her guests. She pointed at the new boy. “Stai qui per favore.”
The cardinal patted his young ward to his feet.
Rebecca leaned forward, staring into the little boy standing in front of her. Light reflected across her perfectly round spectacles, concealing her eyes and transforming her into some sort of suspicious owl, an inhuman statue. “Sei un bravo maschietto? Sei un maschietto obbediente?”
The boy winced, perhaps confused by the question. He collected himself and nodded.
“Lavorerai?”
Again he flashed a small face of concern. But he gave her one last determined nod.
“Very well,” Rebecca sighed. She leaned back in the chair and removed her glasses. There were a few beats of silence, the nun gathering her thoughts and tidying her mind from the previous moment’s sudden earthquake. She gestured from her son to the little visitor. “Secondo, this…I suppose then that this is Terzo,” she said. “Your…half-brother.”
My AO3 | Tumblr Fic List | My Obsessive Ghost AU Series aka My Flavor of Insanity
Please comment and reblog! Thank you.
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g0nta-g0kuhara · 1 year ago
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I was replaying ch5 last night and which got me thinking. The truth of the outside world impacted everyone really badly, right? Shuichi was so depressed he didn't get out of bed for days. I assume it was similar for Himiko as well, seeing as she was fairly depressed from the start of the killing game. But what about everyone else?
I think Kiibo probably had a similar reaction, considering his mood when they all finally met up at the dining hall a few days later. But I feel like it was probably really weird for him, feeling more depressed than he had probably ever felt in his entire life but his inner voice screaming at him to get up and move forwards, to always strive for hope above all else. But the despair of the outside world was so bad that he couldn't listen. What was the audience thinking, their stand in being so depressed that he wouldn't listen to them anymore? Not to mention what a terrible experience for Kiibo.
And for Maki, it seems like she was able to get up and move around pretty well. She was the one who got Shuichi to the dining hall that morning, and mentioned passing by the exisal hangar as well as finding the flashback light in the dining hall "that morning", so it seems to me she's been patrolling the academy for both of the days Shuichi was out for the count. I think because of her assassin training and her already difficult life, she was able to compartmentalize the end of the world really quickly, though I'm sure it would weigh on her eventually if she was given the chance to Stop Moving.
But the thing that made me stop in my tracks was Tsumugi. Did she have to Roleplay being depressed for two days? laying in her bed not moving to get the appropriate look but the whole time trying to figure out a way to fix the mess Kokichi had just made of her killing game? But having to be SO careful because Maki or Kokichi could find her if she tried to leave her room to do anything. Outside of the stress of her plans falling apart, can you imagine how boring that'd be?
I also can't really figure out for sure if the audience Knew that Tsumugi was the mastermind. Because if they didn't, she'd have to put so much more effort into her performance of being depressed not only for eventually rejoining with her "friends" but also for the audience. But this is something for another post.
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