#but he does put on trousers because she's still a lady

[softquietsteadylove]

official spicy time for the runaway bride AU pleaseee <3

Gil closed the door behind him as he came back into the cabin. He was done washing up after what was a harrowing day for them, and that was keeping in mind that they had already experienced plenty before now.

He had given Thena a foot bath as soon as they got back, and she had all but dozed off then already. It would probably be for the best if she was dead asleep by now.

He couldn't imagine what it must have felt like for her. She had been faced with her past in her own home twice now. Had they dragged her off the porch? Did they break in the door and bruise her ivory skin like monsters? The thought made his stomach turn.

Gil sighed, seeing Thena lying on her side in their bed.

There had been a time when he hadn't wanted to lie with her. He wanted her to remain a proper lady, with him on a straw bed so he could respect her independence (newfound and fragile in the beginning). Now, they cuddled every night. Well, now they did more.

It was still a lie that they were married. No one had officiated anything and her father hadn't approved any bans. But they lived together, for more than a year now, they laid together, their hands were on each other most nights, now.

He certainly felt that if he had a wife, surely it was Thena.

He walked over to the bed, no shirt, just his cotton trousers rolled up to his knees. He tossed the cotton he used for a towel over one of the bed posts. He thought of the proper bath room he had wanted to build. Now, it was possible that the best thing to do was leave their home all together.

Thena rolled over. She was awake.

"Hey," he whispered, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

She said nothing, reaching up with her hands to bring his lips to hers. He granted her request, always happy to offer a sweet kiss. She asked for more, though.

Gil braced himself on the bed, hands on either side of her as she kissed him deeper, her tongue venturing further. As tired as he was, he felt himself ache for her. He groaned.

Thena rose in the bed to sit up. Her shoulders were bare. She kept the blanket pinned under her arms around her. "Gil, lie down."

His hair stood on end. He couldn't be sure, but he could feel something in the air. Thena made room for him in the bed, still holding the sheets around her. The fire in the hearth was waning but the light and deep shadows bent and stretched over her bare skin.

Once he was in the bed, Thena moved on top of him. It wasn't unheard of for her to position herself this way. It was easy for them to please each other in this position. But Gil blinked as she sat up, letting the sheets fall around her. His eyes travelled around the globes of her breasts, down between them and over her pale stomach.

She did nothing to stop his eyes from roaming her body. She did eventually tip his mouth closed and his chin back up to look in her eyes. When she had his attention again, she leaned in for another kiss.

His hands slid over her. His palms glided over her soft, warm back. He had never touched her like this--or this much of her. He would become addicted. He was already a little too excited about it.

But Thena moved deftly, grasping a handful of him and pulling him into the open air, even holding him upright in her palm. "Gil, I do not know what the future holds."

He held his breath as she looked at him. She moved smoothly, adjusting her hips so she could take him into her. They both moaned as first contact was made.

"But I don't want to wake up tomorrow and know I have never truly made love with you."

Gil grunted as she slid herself the rest of the way down onto him. Her soft bum met his pelvic bone and he grasped her hips to keep her still for a moment. He looked up at her, trying to grasp the expression on her face. "Thena, a-are you okay?"

She wiggled some on top of him. She had no idea the enticing effect her bouncing breasts had on him. But she took in a breath, dignifying herself the way a princess would. "It is far more pleasurable than horse riding."

Something about that, and the way she was so perfectly poised atop him, made something connect in his mind for the first time. He lifted his hips, enjoying and admiring the way her jaw dropped and her lips uttered a soft moan. He puffed through his nose.

Thena moaned again as he lifted his hips higher. She leaned forward, bracing herself against the headboard of the bed. Her unbound breasts swung into his view.

Gil happily took one into his mouth. Thena squeaked, her spine snapping, but he dragged his teeth along until the nipple left his possession by force. He looked up at her. She blushed.

Gil moved more rhythmically. He thrust up into her, in a way he had only done in his dreams. Even Thena's palm on a lazy morning didn't compare to this. He kept her leaning forward, looming over him in all her glory.

Thena made a sound for every thrust. Her hips began moving to match him, instinctively, her needs matching his. Her knees dug harder into the bed, spreading her legs more to let him go deeper. He hit the frontmost walls of her, and she mewled as if enjoying a good stretch in the morning.

"That's it."

Thena bit her lip as he started moving at his newer angle. She picked her head up, her blonde hair swinging around her with their movements. Her chest flushed pink and a sheen of sweat glistened on her skin.

Gil let his eyes wander again, travelling over Thena's body--the body of an absolute siren, apparently. Watching their connection, their hips meeting, her legs spread to either side of his drove him in a way he had never experienced before.

Thena cleared her throat. "This is not some brothel display."

He chuckled, directing his eyes back up to his love's. His moved his hands from just above her buttocks to running over her back, tapping his fingers where he felt her ribs. "Sorry, sweetheart."

Thena had to crane her neck to do it, but they kissed again, tongues nearly meeting before their lips did. He moved more feverishly than ever, and her voice rose in pitch. "Gil!"

He was nearing his end. His nethers tightened and he didn't think he was being hopeful and imagining hers doing the same. He took one of her hands from supporting her weight, moving it down. Her brow furrowed, her eyes shut and focused on finding the conclusion they had only begun achieving for her recently.

"Here," he whispered, guiding her hand to where they were joined. "Feel it?"

She bit her lip again. But he trusted her to feel around her own body better than he could. It did hinder his view somewhat, but there was a completely different pleasure to watching her do this for herself.

"It's okay, that's it," he encouraged. Her fingers began making a circular motion, assuring him that she had found what worked for her. He picked up his pace again. "I'm close."

"Close," she either asked or repeated, it was indecipherable. Her hand moved faster, the flush in her skin spreading quickly. "Gil, I-I-I-!"

Thena came quickly. She could teeter on the edge for some time but when she came, it was with her whole body. He let her bear down on him, all her weight moving to her hips grinding against his.

He groaned as he released not seconds later. It was an easy thing to do, with Thena's warmth encompassing and encouraging him. She made a purring sound as she felt him shooting into her, pump by pump. Exhaustion had no meaning to the organ dominating his actions currently.

They took time to catch their breath, the day and what had just taken place catching up with them. Thena's occupied hand had moved to using him as a support, right in the middle of his chest, the heel of her palm pressing into his sternum.

She whimpered as he moved her off of him and onto her side. He grasped blindly for the towel he had abandoned, moving it between her legs. She grumbled in quiet protest of it but he still thought she didn't quite know that such things did not simply dissolve after they were done.

He rolled over her somewhat, kissing her cheeks and lips more gently than they had been doing. "You okay?"

"Hm," she mused, although she sounded awfully contented. Her hands pawed at his chest, as they liked to do when she was satisfied. "Quite. You?"

He liked it when her lovely and eloquent speech left her for more singular statements. He kissed her again. Her tongue chased him but even if she could endure more tonight, he could not (deeply unfortunate). "I love you, Thena."

Her eyes opened, and the lovely flush in her cheeks deepened to a proper blush. She bent her head, nuzzling it against his neck. "I love you, too."

He smiled to himself, letting her curl into him as she liked. He was happy to hold his wife - in not so many words - as she desired. There was still the matter of what they would do. He could ask her how she felt about finding a spot for themselves in the village. But that could wait.

He had to find some way to get a ring, first.

[e-vay]

Hey E-Vay ! Before I say anything, LOVE your work.

Okay, so I know that you're in the process of showing us how Sonic and Amy's wedding and proposal is planned out (no pressure). BuT, just curious, how did Knucks and Rouge get married? Or even how did he get to propose?

Thanks for seeing this!

Thank you so very much! 🥰 I’m so happy you like my work! 

I will not be doing a full comic or even a full fic of how their wedding goes down just because I have too many other projects I want to do (I’m only one person! 🥵). But I will give you a breakdown of how the Knuxouge wedding goes in my AU! And if anyone wants to do fanart or a fic based off it, I’d love to see/read it!

During the events of Boom!Baby, Knuckles and Rouge finally get engaged. I don’t have the exact proposal in mind, but I like to think that the two of them have been aggressively/playfully putting it off for awhile, with Knuckles constantly joking “As if I’d ever want to be married to HER” and Rouge jabbing back with “Please, you’d need to offer me the Master Emerald on a ring for me to even consider it!” But with Sonic and Amy taking this next major step in their lives, Knuckles is inspired and does end up popping the question (with a CONSIDERABLE ring full of gems that he scavenged himself!).

Knowing Rouge is an absolute diva, she’d have the most extravagant, over-the-top, dazzling wedding you could imagine. And it would definitely be a “no-kids-allowed” event. Have you seen the movie “Crazy Rich Asians”? Picture that. The wedding would be a spectacle that would last for DAYS! But, the wedding date would be expedited super fast (I headcanon that Rouge is actually very insecure and puts out a bold front to hide that about herself. She’d want to rush the wedding because she’s secretly afraid Knuckles will want to back out. She shouldn’t worry about that, he loves her very much and really wants to marry her!).

In my AU, Shadow is off-world during Boom!Baby, so though Rouge would have obviously asked him to be her “Man of Honor,” she wouldn’t be able to find a way to reach him and get him back in time for the wedding. Because of this, Omega gets pushed to the role of “Man (Mech?) of Honor” and Rouge asks Amy to be a bridesmaid instead. Note, Amy is nearing the end of her pregnancy at this time haha. I always write Rouge and Amy to have a very tense “friendship;” that’s just my personal preference. So Rouge asking Amy to be her bridesmaid was because Amy is her closest female friend, but also because she thinks it will make herself look extra fabulous when standing next to a very pregnant lady haha. She even picks out an awful yellow bridesmaid dress for Amy to wear (because Amy is still very beautiful, pregnant or not). Though Amy does agree to be a bridesmaid to support her friend, she’s actually quite upset and very self-conscious and it initially puts a damper on her enjoyment of the wedding festivities (Her feet hurt like hell, she feels like a bowling ball, she thinks she looks horrendous in this color!). Don’t worry though, Sonic cheers her up and reminds her just how radiant she is 🥰

[Sonic seeing Amy in her bridesmaid dress] S: “Wow!” A: “This yellow dress is awful. She did this on purpose.” S: “Well if she was trying to make you look bad, she failed miserably. You look like the sunshine!” A: “I look VERY pregnant!” S: “Sure, pregnant with MY baby. There ain’t a thing more beautiful than that 😉” [Rabid kissing ensues hehehe]

I picture Rouge having many outfit changes for every event that happens during their week-long wedding extravaganza, but for her actual wedding dress I imagine something super sleek, super sexy, and made up entirely of diamonds! My drawing doesn’t even do it justice. Just picture that as she’s walking, every single facet of every single diamond is sparkling! All the men would have to wear 3-piece black tuxedos complete with trousers (Sonic hates this), except Omega obviously. But he’d still wear a dapper bowtie and Sunflower & Iris boutonniere like the rest of the wedding party. (I chose Irises because Rouge seems to like the color purple and they’re a very elegant flower, and I chose sunflowers because they remind me of Knuckles for some reason. Maybe because they’re big and tall. Idk, I can see Knuckles really liking sunflowers and yellow pairs beautifully with purple). Sonic and Tails are Knuckles’ groomsmen, but Team Chaotix are also among honored guests so Vector and Espio (and maybe even Mighty) would attend all the groom-related events (like the bachelor party) leading up to the wedding.

Right before the ceremony, Rouge and Amy have a touching heart-to-heart moment and Rouge does thank her for stepping in and helping out, and she apologizes for making Amy feel bad. She admits that she has insecurities that she doesn’t like people to know about, so that’s why she goes over-the-top and sometimes puts others down in the process. Also (at least in my AU), Rouge doesn’t have very many close friends outside of Shadow and Omega, so Amy really is her next best friend. They make up, the ceremony is perfect and romantic, and everyone gets to have an absolute blast at the reception!

Lastly, because Rouge is so over-the-top… after Shadow returns back to their planet 20+ years later, I can AB-SO-LUTELY see her throwing a vow renewal that’s even more extravagant than their first wedding as an excuse to have him as her Man of Honor and also as an excuse to throw another huge bash. Though this one would be even crazier and BIGGER, I think the vow renewal would actually be way more fun because everyone (including kids) can come this time, everyone’s families are bigger (even CC would be there!), and Knuckles and Rouge’s adopted kids (Ruff and Tumble) would get to be part of the ceremony, so it’d be very heartfelt even with goofy antics.

Sorry I’m not going to make this one into a full-fledged comic, but I hope you enjoyed this condensed version anyway! And I hope nobody takes the way I write Rouge as me not liking her character. I just like to add a little spice into why she comes off so proud all the time. I adore Knuckles and Rouge as a couple. Their rivalry and catty attitudes are just a hoot!

[thinemoonshine]

༄LECHE OF THE SIRENS.ೃ࿔*

corrupt!enhypen ot7 x siren!reader warning(s): the boys being downright disgusting, reverse harem, mature themes, obsessive and possessive behaviours, (y/n) is manipulative and puts them in their place, unconventional 'love' type: mini series word count: 10.4k

seven nobles who are corrupt meets a girl akin to a celestial being. little do they know, that the maiden is anything but—as she is the bane to all abominable man, a siren.

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 1

𝒮unghoon scoffs incredulously at his friend, Jongseong’s, decision to sneak into the prostitute house through the back door. “Don’t tell me you’re still playing the role of the refined, virtuous young lord?”

Jongseong clicks his tongue with a frown as he turns his face away from his deprecating friend. “I have to. If I wish to be the head of my house, I have to maintain a polished reputation. My father sees to it that I will.”

The young can only roll his eyes though a ghost of a smirk plays on his lips. “Oh, and you’re doing a very good job with that, aren’t you?”

“How is it that you’ve managed to keep your wickedness hidden?” Jaeyun asks with an arch of his brow.

“Because I’m smart,” Jongseong shamelessly confesses as he faces them once more. “I only use those with either nothing to gain…or everything to lose if they were to be acquainted with me—that includes the ladies.”

The other five of his friends, excluding Riki and Sunoo who seem to be disinterested in their venereal subjects, only stay silent at the side—arms crossed and deadpanned.

“Well then, the three of us will proudly enter through the main door while you have to sneak around like a little rat for daddy,” Heeseung mocks to which Jongseong frowns at but he tells no falsity.

He then turns to the youngest three with hands in his pockets. “What about you lot?”

Riki wraps an arm around Jungwon’s shoulders with a playful smirk. “We plan to watch them dance. They have a performance tonight.”

“And we’ve gotten the VIP tickets,” Won adds and pulls out two slips making Seong knit his brows.

“Only two?”

Sunoo raises a hand. “I’m staying out. The aromas they they use are headache inducing.”

“Suit yourself,” the oldest of the bunch says casually with a shrug before they all haughtily enter the establishment in the red district.

The lone member sigh watches them disappear before he retreats to the lively booths that line the roads. Various savoury smells and appetizing images of food bring delight—rekindling his spirit for fun. He’s always been fond of all types of delicacies.

“What would you like, young man?” The vendor asks Sunoo who so conspicuously eyes the food at his stall with stars in his eyes.

The customer grins happily, ear-to-ear before he speaks. “All of it!”

—

“I’ve eaten too much, ugh,” Sunoo groans and pats on the waistband of his high-waisted trousers that make his every move uncomfortable. Even breathing is distasteful with each inhale causing his slight bloated abdomen to strain against the band.

As he walks at the side of the now much serene and isolated street as it’s nearer the exit of the district, he halts in his steps at the sigh of a maiden standing near the shore of the sea.

She’s clothed in a ragged dress with the hems either disintegrated or chewed away by ants and its colour has faded to the point where one can’t exactly discern its original hue—whether grey or brown or beige or even white.

Furthermore, she lacks shoes—standing with her feet bare against the sand as she blankly stares at the water that rolls towards her toes but not close enough to touch.

Sunoo scowls, disturbed and mainly disgruntled by seeing an obtrusively nameless, untitled woman who so clearly does not belong in the festive and enchanting district. He’s about to turn away but the maiden does so first—meeting his glare that instantly softens to be filled with astonishment.

He’s awestruck.

The beauty the lass beholds is unlike any other. With eyes as clear and scintillating as the full moon yet deep and secretive like the depth of the seas, dewy skin that shimmers beneath the light, cheeks that bloom radiantly with life and lips pulled to the loveliest smile that the young noble has ever seen—she is mesmerizing.

So bewitching that it enthralls him—his every senses—to the point that he believes that she might not be human.

And for someone renowned as one of the most irresistible and pursued men of the time, that statement holds no exaggeration.

“What a beaut!” A man suddenly comes by with his friend. The two are dressed in fine suits and adorned with ostentatious accessories, displaying their wealth and rank in the social class yet their behaviour juxtaposes them.

Their faces are flushed and hair all tousled, clearly blotto.

“Which company are you from, huh?” The man hiccups as he approaches the mysterious girl who’s now focused on the pair. “Pretty girl like you wearing crappy clothes like this in this place can only mean two things.”

She remains still and silent with head lifted to look up at the taller man looming over her.

“One, you ran away. Two, you got thrown out because you’re not ‘performing’ well. Not…satisfying enough,” he continues with a drunken chuckle while his friend snickers.

The first sound emits from the girl when the latter roughly grasps her jaw in his hand, causing her to gasp. He hums as his eyes narrowed onto her. “DANG! With this typa face, tho! You’re too precious to he thrown! You ran away, huh?”

She takes a step back.

“No, no, don’t you dare run,” the man growls and now grapples her by the shoulder with his free hand. His face expresses displeasure but it soon shifts to a mischievous grin. “Why don’t we find out ourselves, hm? If there really is something wrong with ya.”

His hand unlatches from her jaw to travel down her neck to her collarbones and Sunoo, the only witness to the whole scene, turns on his heels to walk away.

‘She’s ravishing, but she’s still a shameful, used woman with nothing to her name,’ he thinks vainly and begins to step away. ‘Whatever happens is not my responsibility—and none will care either way.’

He begins his stroll but is compelled to turn once more at the sound of a painful grunt and he’s met with the view of the young woman biting the hand of her assaulter that rests on her shoulder before she kicks the other in his shin.

And with another swift motion, she retrieves an auger shell from the sand below them before slashing its sharp tip against their faces—almost stabbing one of them in the eye which leads to him stumbling backwards and crashing onto his arse.

“YOU WHXRE!!” The one on his feet roars with pure wrath and the gaze in his bloodshot eyes is baneful. He plans to end the girl right where she stands.

But just as many times before, she stays mute and skillfully dodges him with a mere bend to the side—his drunken self too wobbly to move as agile as he wishes. And right when his back faces her from his reckless offense, she stabs the shell into the flesh of his back without a single blink. Once, twice—and thrice.

His wail of pain cuts through the tranquility of the night as he falls onto his palms and knees into the water. Blood flows rapidly from his three wounds despite them being quite tiny. She dug them deep enough.

“Take him with you,” is all the girl says to the one trembling with fright and thus, forced to sobriety—his face blanched and the centre front of his trousers carrying a warm, dark patch.

He pathetically crawls to his injured friend and carries him onto his back before hasting away like a scurrying rodent.

She who remains behind observes as they further away before dropping the bloody shell and inhaling, exhaling, as if to calm herself—ignoring the second presence who stares her from afar with wonder in his widened eyes and cheeks in a faint rosy tint.

He already found her entrancing enough by a mere glance, but now, seeing what she’s capable of, seeing how a true gem she is, he’s utterly spellbound. And he truly must be because he’s completely unaware of her approach until she stands before him with an arm’s length between them.

“Why did you not aid me?” She queries and the sound of her voice tickles his ears, causing his hair to rise and his insides tingle with a rush of sparks he’s never felt before. “Why leave?”

Sunoo looks down at her as his breaths slow, the adrenaline that courses through him from just watching her beginning to calm. “…There was no reason for me to help. You are an insignificant stranger and neither did saving you will benefit me in any way.”

“How cruel,” she says yet, those words hold no criticism or any sort of sentiment. It’s simply a statement, an observation and still, the softness and tune of her voice in which she uses to speak—a most subtle raise in pitch at the end—makes it seem as if she’s…amused. “It’s a shame you think of me in such way when I think of you so highly.”

The other maintains his position as she takes a small step forward. “What do you mean?”

“I was hoping to gain your attention. I’ve been seeing you since before, Sunoo,” she continues and her knowledge of his name befuddles him. He should be interrogating her, demand answers as to how she knows of his identity however, the fact that she seems to be interested in him outweighs any other thought.

His face mantles and long pretty lashes framing his foxy eyes flutter at his flustered rapid blinking. “Y-you have?”

She nods her head and he’s never seen someone conduct a simple action so gracefully, especially so with that sweet smile that resides on her face. “I think you’re a very noble man, Sunoo. To leave your friends as they fall victim to their insatiable desires… You are different.”

Sunoo is uncertain what it is about her words, but they always squeeze his heart as butterflies emerge in his stomach. And those gorgeous eyes…the bat of her lashes as she looks up at him, the unwavering tenderness in her gaze and undivided attention—it’s unalike any of the many, many he’s received in his life.

He wants more. He wants her. And if acting as a righteous, refined young lord is what it takes to ensnare her, he can play the role for as much as he needs to.

“It must be cold, isn’t it—to wear such a thin dress in this night breeze?” He begins and wears a beguiling smile that never fails to swoon those around him. “If you don’t mind, would you allow me to gift you with a few warm coats and dresses?”

The maiden shakes her head as she turns away. “It is fine. There is no place for me to put them, anyways.”

At this, the noble’s brows raise. “Do you…not have a place to stay?”

Her silence confirms his suspicion and as vile as it is, a sense of relief and delight fill him. An opportunity strikes.

Suppressing the urge to let his smile tilt to a cunning smirk, she asks the girl.

“Then, would you like to stay in my residence for the time being? There are plenty of rooms to offer and I would not mind the company…if you will have me.”

The other lifts her head to him and the expression on her face already tells him of her decision—widening his grin.

—

“He ditched us without a single notice and now he’s disappeared for a whole 2 weeks cooped up in his home?? That’s awfully suspicious, wouldn’t you think so?” Jongseomg clicks his tongue harshly, both annoyed and worried for one of their youngest as he stomps up the former’s grand staircase.

Being friends with one another has its perks, one of them being that they don’t require to send letters to inform them of their visits—their doors always open to each other.

“Maybe he’s been occupied with all his lessons? He told me he’s been slacking,” Jaeyun tries to assuage the older’s frustration but his only response is ignorance.

Five figures trail behind him and their paces fasten when they reach Sunoo’s floor. Their soles brushing against the squeaky clean tiles create rushed, dissonant shuffles and footsteps.

But before they can venture further down the corridor to his room, they’re forced to a halt at an unfamiliar sight—or to be exact, an unfamiliar person.

Slipping out of her room is a girl accoutred in a silk white dress that shimmers softly at every sway, its fabric hugging her chest, following the shape of her bosom down to her waist while its long skirt flows down in freely—allowing for as much stretch of her legs as she wishes.

Butterfly sleeves hide a majority of her upper arms with a sheer fabric layering the silk, creating a more sophisticated and elegant form. Her further adornments consist of a snowy gold bustier corset top to accentuate her frame while the frills that are sewn onto its upper edge give the illusion of being a part of the butterfly sleeves—making it seem as if she’s wearing an off-shoulder dress.

Her ensemble is an immaculate combination of extravagance and yet gracefulness. Whoever made it is surely an exquisite tailor.

Although, the 6 young men would know nothing about it considering they’re not able to dwell on her dress as they’re too busy gawking at the ethereal damsel that stands before them. They’ve seen many women before—some even doing more than seeing—and yet, they’re confident to declare that they’ve never seen one quite like her.

She’s breathtaking in a way where it’s inhuman. As if she’s an extraterrestrial being—or a creature of myth that tends to lure unprotected, vulnerable men like they are at the moment just to bring them to their demise.

A lethal beauty.

Unlike them however, (y/n) merely shifts her glance between them just to identify. Not once does her eyes widen and sparkle nor do her cheeks flush from the fluster of meeting such unrealistically gorgeous young men who can instantly bring anyone—and anything—below their feet.

“(y/n), why did you—Oh,” Sunoo sounds—tone shifting from curious to blunt indifference.

His presence that exits from the same chamber (y/n) emerged from instantly rouse suspicion and intrigue in his friends.

Jaeyun scoffs. “So, this is what this was all about? You’ve found yourself a woman and decide that you’d rot in your mansion with her—neglecting your own friends?”

Sunoo frowns as he shields (y/n) from their prying, scrutinizing eyes. He was never one to really care about their reprimands. “Neglect? It’s not like you’re all under my care. I’m not your parent who needs to coddle you.”

“Kim Sunoo, you know that isn’t what we mean,” Heeseung rebukes, a sharp and fierce glare on his otherwise doe eyes. “You vanished for 2 weeks with not a single word!”

“Do I need to inform you of my activities?” The younger hisses with his own eyes whetting and things would have escalated from the fire growing in the two if it isn’t for (y/n) placing a hand against her host’s arm.

His glower softens almost immediately as he shifts his focus onto the girl—his instant sickening his friends.

(y/n)’s voice is gentle, airy like the morning breeze as well as clear and alluring like the glistens of the water surface from the shining moonlight—charming one to stay and watch the waters glitter.

Or in terms of voice, seducing one to not just remain and hear but listen—just as how they all fall into an unanimous quiet.

“Should I leave?" She asks, shocking Sunoo terribly as dread fills him. The idea itself is horrifying. "It seems I might have overstayed my welcome."

Sunoo shakes his head vigorously. "No, no! Don't leave! I—They are just being rude, they know nothing."

His frantic behaviour that drips with desperation is both amusing and astonishing to his friends who have never seen him act so...pathetic before. He's always been the embodiment of sophistication, of grace to the point that it's boastful at times.

(y/n) looks up at him nervously, her brows tilted with worry. "But—"

"(y/n)," her host cuts her off as he cups her cheek, thumb caressing her skin tenderly. "Don't fret, hm? This is all just a small argument between my friends and I. Why don't you go back in and practice the new piece I taught you?"

Seeing no reason to refute, the girl nods and returns to the room she exited from with quiet nimble footsteps.

Sunoo's gaze that was warm and endearing turns frigid and stern the moment she disappears and he turns his head to his friends. "I'm not going to entertain this useless bicker between us so I suggest we digress. Leave, stay, I don't care what you do as long as you don't disturb us again. (y/n) is my guest and she will remain here for as long I will her and none of you are to defy that."

With one last warning glare, he turns away to join (y/n) whose melodious play can be hear from the momentary opening of the door before Sunoo slams it shut.

A deafening silence overtakes until Jaeyun clears his throat.

"You heard what he said so who's up for an impromptu sleepover?" He suggests with a playful, wide grin as he wiggles his dark brows at the others.

—

It's so fun being powerful. They can make anything happen with a flick of the wrist or a snap of their fingers. With just a simple order from them, those around them easily oblige—eager to execute every command. Just how they need not to lift a finger while their servants back home are panicked—rushing to pack clothes and other necessities for their young masters who so suddenly sent a letter informing them of their plans of staying at Master Sunoo's abode.

Jongseong scoffs as he recalls his maids and butlers running from the gates the moment their carriage arrived and pretending to be all calm and collected as they stood in front of him—as if their skin wasn't glistening with sweat and breaths weren't heavy as they pant.

Knock, knock!

He furrows at the abrupt interruption of his reminiscence and sits up on the bed to face the door. "Who is it?"

"It's (y/n)," the entrancing voice from before promptly straightens his posture as he springs onto his feet.

Clearing his throat and neatening his shirt while approaching the door, he abruptly halts at the ridiculousness of his own behaviour. Why is he trying to impress a poor, insignificant girl anyways? He already heard the talk from the servants on how Sunoo randomly brought her home while she was still in her rags and completely barefoot.

"What is it?" He utters with a heavy sigh as soon as he opens the door.

"Would you like some tea? I made it myself," (y/n) asks with a hopeful mien, eyes sparkling and lips in a small smile.

The other cocks up a brow skeptically. "You know how to brew tea?"

"I watched," she answers, deepening his skepticism.

Another long, unamused sigh leaves him. "Just get in."

She enters cheerily and sets down the tray on his little tea table while watches behind with arms crossed and gaze sharp.

“I thought it would be a nice welcome. Sunoo taught me that it’s good etiquette,” (y/n) says as she pours him a cup of warm tea with calculated, precise movements—shocking him, to be honest—and placing it down in front of him without a single tremor. “I hope you find it to your liking.”

Jongseong scoffs at his futile wish. He’s one of the most picky when it comes to his meals—always thinking none of is good enough and that includes how he enjoys his tea.

He had to personally teach his servants how to brew and how much sugar to be used to actually make one fitting his palate and even then, they still can’t satisfy him.

After a few gentle blows to cool down the hot drink, he brings the brim of the cup to his lips for his first sip and once again, receives another surprise. It’s…splendid. Such aroma and perfect balance between tea and sugar that spreads perfectly on his tongue and warming him from the inside—akin to sitting in front of the hearth during winter.

He lifts his gaze to meet with (y/n)’s as he lags to utter the words in his head—all of them jumbled from both disbelief and yet, amazement. “How did you make this? It’s exactly as how I prefer it to be.”

“I…um, I actually asked your servant beforehand on how you typically enjoy your tea,” (y/n) timidly answers as she stares at her fiddling fingers on her lap. “I apologize for not asking you myself and instead, intruding on your privacy.”

Strangely, he doesn’t mind very much although usually he would find it offensive that someone is investigating him through his servants. Instead, he finishes the rest of his tea before passing to her on its small plate. “Pour me some more.”

His request rekindles a discernible light onto her face as she physically perks up—eyes upturning and corners of her lips curling as she obliges. And Jongseong can’t help but admit that she looks…adorable.

For him to be able to control her mood with a few words or actions, he finds it amusing and truly lovable—so much so that he doesn’t notice how much time has passed with her sharing her experience living at the mansion while he merely sits and listen with a gentle smile retained on her face.

Only when the room darkens to the point the cups in front of them are almost unseen and their faces are shadowed does he finally, take note of the time.

“Oh! I’ve taken too much of your time. I should leave now,” (y/n) exclaims with alarm as she rushes to her feet while collecting all their cups and biscuits back onto the silver tray. With hands on her stomach, she then bows at Jongseong respectfully, bidding him goodbye before she lifts the tray and out she goes.

The lone man remains in his room as his servant enters to light the candles and lamps before leaving him to his own devices.

As much as he enjoys the silence, he never knew how lonely it can be…until today.

Strolling through the corridor is (y/n) who’s reminiscing her conversation with her guest before and a smile stretches itself onto her face. A glint sparks in her eye and a passing Sunghoon espies the ambiguous expression she wears but she disappears down the stairs quickly, ridding him of the opportunity to observe more.

His luxuriant dark brows knit in wonder as he returns to his room.

—

The next day is just like any other for (y/n)—awaking at the sounds of cheery chirping birds, freshening up with the help of her designated servants and getting dressed with the outfit of her choice before she leaves to have her daily etiquette lesson with Sunoo.

One might think she’s the lady of the house from the way she’s treated by the staff and to even be privately tutored by the young master himself—that’s the grandest, most gracious gesture he’s ever done for anyone at all.

But to think she’s only a nobody picked up from the street, it’s a cultural shock to others.

“Good morning, Sunoo,” (y/n) greets Sunoo who’s already waiting for her on the windowsill as he stares at the sunny view outside. “Will we pick up from yesterday’s lesson?”

The noble lad turns to her, his eyes already scintillating with adoration as he approaches her with long, calculated steps. “How about we take a break today? The day is beautiful outside.”

His suggestion excites the other who nods vigorously and he giggles with contentment—hand reaching up to fix her hair and trailing his fingers to the side of her face to warmly press his palm against it.

Electrifying tingles bloom in his chest when she reciprocates his affection by leaning against his hand, her eyes shutting briefly before they open to look up at him.

Sunoo feels his breath hitch. She always does this to him. Every single time. He initiates the intimacy and yet at the end he’s the one breathless and desperate for more, craving for her touch and wanting her to want him just as he does to her.

“I’ll tell the servants to prepare you favourite pastries and tea. Wait for me in the garden veranda, hm?”

She nods and he reluctantly slips his hand away, leaving him feeling cold and bare as he yearns for her warmth and comfort once more.

(y/n) casually makes her way to the garden, humming one of the sweet melodies Sunoo taught her to play on the piano as she ambles.

An air of peace and joy encompasses her, disregarding the predatory eyes that ominously tracks her every move from behind a tall bush. His hand rests on the side of the prickly leaves as he stalks the naive prey.

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as a sardonic smirk reveals itself when he sees her stop at the veranda–taking his first step towards her.

“I thought you had lessons,” Heeseung begins and the girl spins on her heels.

Her brows twitch upwards subtly at his unexpected presence. “Yes, I was supposed to. But Sunoo thought it was better to enjoy the sunny weather today.”

“‘Sunoo?’” The male repeats, intrigued by the fact that she’s on a first-name basis with the oh, so majestic Kim Sunoo. He scoffs—though, not of demeaning nature. “I see you address him using casual terms. Will it be improper of me to ask you to do the same for me?”

(y/n) tilts her head, puzzled and he continues.

“Lee Heeseung, that is my name. But you will just call me Heeseung.”

Her lips form an ‘o’ in understanding before she beams brightly—fingers pinching the sides of her skirt to slightly lift them up and perform a curtsy. “It is a pleasure to know you, Heeseung. My name is (y/n).”

“Just (y/n)? No family name?” Heeseung furrows. He knows her origins are obscure but he expected her to at least, be aware of the name of her kin. However, the nod of her head answers his curiosity. And somehow…he favours her even more because of it. “I’ve been told on how Sunoo found you near the edge of the red district unaccompanied and lost. It must have been terrifying.”

The girl’s gaze travels down to her shoes before back up at him, unsure of what to say. “Well…”

Heeseung translates her uncertainty as meekness however—a sign of vulnerability—and he’s more than glad to be the pillar of her strength if it meant she’ll lean onto him. “You can tell me anything, (y/n). I’ll be there whenever you need someone to talk to.”

His hands gather hers before he clasps them together, swallowing them completely and a shaky breath escapes him at the sight. With eyes swirling with ambition, he looks into hers with feign empathy—doe eyes feigning innocence and goodwill as he closes the distance between them.

“Will you let me? (y/n)?” He ask—no, pleads, almost as he continues his pretense of a selfless hero. He lowers himself to a slight extent as to not intimidate her by looming over her completely though, it fives not much of a difference. His frame still shadows away the sun from her anyways, leaving her with dim lighting as she’s nearly caged by him.

The maiden smiles softly before nodding although remaining quiet and Heeseung immediately lets out a breath of relief. For a moment there, her stillness seemed to suggest rejection but she must have merely been nervous.

“Why are you acting so benevolent suddenly?”

Her question takes him aback and he stammers, “P-pardon?”

His gaze falls from her face to their hands when she slowly slips hers out to rest them onto his larger ones—thumb softly drawing circles onto his skin which brings desirable shivers down his spine.

“I know how you are. I’ve seen you. Committing all those criminal acts, indulging yourself in dirty riches and greedy gambles as you find pleasure in women that you deem worthless thus, undeserving of any care or compassion—and neither do you give any compensation for those that you’ve treated with injustice,” (y/n) speaks with an eloquence that leaves no room for debate. She isn’t just reiterating all those rumours she might have heard but she is fully cognizant of every word she speaks, of every allegation that they are nothing but truths.

Heeseung is struck by a turmoil of emotions: displeased and offended by her unvarnished tongue yet at the same time wonderstruck by her character that completely goes against his initial impression.

“You…! I thought you were of low origins? You should not be aware of anything regarding the aristocracy!” Heeseung hisses as he snatches his hands back in attempt to conceal his disconcerted demeanor.

But (y/n) retains her sangfroid as she lets her arms relax onto her sides. With a pretty smile gracing her pretty face, her lips part to speak pretty, pretty words.

“If your genteel veneer is merely a pathetic attempt to lure me, then I’d very much prefer it if you were to bare your teeth and spit your venom into my tea,” she says in a whispery tune, just enough for both him and her to hear. She then lifts her hand up to trail her feathery touches down from his neck to his chest—paralyzing him as he shudders with unashamed titillation.

His eyelids fluttering and breath hitching as she smirks deviously, an image even Sunoo has yet to be graced with.

A kittenish giggle escapes her and the sound of it ignites him—hair rising and pants tightening especially when she pulls him down by the nape to whisper.

“Because at least then, you might have the chance to ensnare me with your sincere wickedness rather than your feeble, futile attempt to be a saint,” she snaps and he groans at the feel of her lips lightly grazing the shell of his ear before she pushes him away. “Sunoo will be here soon. I suggest you leave.”

Poor Heeseung’s head is much too dazed and fogged to respond as he drunkenly drags himself away with a painful throb in his lower region and skin flushed red as he replays his moment with her again and again in his head.

(y/n) is a pretty woman, the most gorgeous he has ever laid eyes upon—but she is as lethal as she is beautiful. And what unraveled just minutes ago shows him that she is so much more capable than what she seems. This is mere child’s play.

And he wants to know everything about her.

—

“But young master, this amount may be overwhelming for the villagers. Some of them may not be able to afford this,” Yoo, Sunoo’s aide, voices his concerns after receiving the list of demands from the noble.

Nevertheless, Sunoo remains quiet as his eyes sharpen at the sheet he vigorously writes on—burning the letters with his fervent glare. “They live and conduct their business on our property thus, it’s only fair that they should comply with our rules and commands.”

“However, this is too sudden! Would it not be best for you to grant them a period of time to prepare their payment?”

“Father has instructed me to collect a certain amount during his leave and although I do admit that I have been negligent in fulfilling his wishes, it is justified as I have more priorities to tend to.”

The aide bites his tongue from blurting out a name at his master’s mention of ‘priorities.’ Clearly, his priorities are—is, actually, (y/n) alone.

From tutoring her personally to spoiling her with endless jewels and clothing—even calling over one of the most renowned tailor in town—and spending his day and nights with her behind closed door doing what ever it is they are doing.

Yoo doesn’t blame (y/n), of course. If anything, he thinks she has been one of the sweetest characters he has ever been graced with. However, he can’t deny that she is a great distraction to his master.

“Young master Sunoo—” He attempts to begin another argument.

“Aide Yoo,” Sunoo abruptly interrupts with his voice only slightly raised but the lowness of its pitch that’s inordinate for one who’s typically said to be akin sunshine causes the other to tremble. He gulps as his face blanches with fright.

The noble gently puts his quill down but his following acts are anything but—with a gaze so banefully intent that threatens to almost kill, he perturbs the assistant. “It seems you are mistaken. I’ve passed that document to you not to hear your thoughts but for you to simply relay it to the village. What is so difficult for you to comprehend?”

“I-I was only trying to help, my lord.”

“Well, it’s futile and in all honesty, irritating. Now leave for (y/n) will be arriving soon—and by then, no one is permitted to enter my study,” Sunoo commands with a hiss to which the aide instantly bows at before scurrying out.

He shuts the door behind him as quiet as possible but nearly screams his lungs out at the sight of (y/n) who’s standing by the entrance. “(y-y/n), Master Sunoo is waiting for you.”

With another small bend at the waist, Yoo dashes away to promptly finish his assignment and the girl slips into the chamber.

Seeing her is like a breath of fresh air for Sunoo and he instantly rises to his feet before rushing to the maiden—seizing her into his arms and laying his head against her crown.

“(y/n), my lovely (y/n)…” He mumbles and the other says nothing, only patting his back in a slow, calming rhythm—its sensation quietening the loud noises in his stressful mind. “Come.”

She follows obediently, letting herself be lead to the couches before he sits them both down. After straightening her gown for her, Sunoo coils his arms below her waist and lays his head against his chest—listening to her heartbeat as if it’s a lullaby.

A small smile graces his face as his breaths slow to relax.

(y/n) gazes down at him momentarily, trailing down his features and tracing their shapes before turning her head to his overfilled desk with its surface covered in sheets after sheets of documents. He’s slacked far too much to spend his time with (y/n).

And the knowledge of that brings a content smile to her face. She has him right where she wants him.

“Busy?” She asks quietly, almost in a whisper to not interrupt the tranquility that encases them.

Sunoo nods, bottom lip sticking out unconsciously at the reminder of his despair. “Father is returning in two weeks. I have many works to settle before then.”

(y/n) hums in acknowledgment as her fingers begin to comb through his dark brown locks, causing pleasurable tugs onto his scalp and he almost purrs in delight—nuzzling more against her bosom as he raises slightly to feel more of her touch. “My poor Sunoo.”

A love arrow straight to his heart.

She’s accepted him. She’s regarded him as hers. It was always him to express his affections, him to initiate the meetings and now, she’s finally welcomed him into her world. Oh, how blessed does he feel. Suddenly, all that pile of work on his desk doesn’t seem so daunting—his being now buzzing with bliss.

And (y/n) certainly knows that. From the way his smile widens, apple of his cheeks glow in a rosy hue and eyes visibly upturned even while shut, he’s overjoyed. Using her other hand, she begins to outline the features of his soft, angelic visage, mourning at the fact that he’s not as sweet as he looks. Still, she’s grown quite attached.

“(y/n),” he calls suddenly. She hums in response, urging him to continue. “What am I to you?”

It’s this question. It’s not frequent but some of her previous victims have too, inquired her the same and with each, she answers differently. An answer she knows has to be believable, not too exaggerated but not too humble and yet impactful enough to occupy his head and ring in his ears—hypnotizing them to believe her fondness of them is sincere.

And for Sunoo, it’s simply too easy.

“You’re my saviour,” she purrs and the allure of her voice upends the hair on his skin and his body quivers ever so slightly as eyes flutter open with surprise and yet, admiration. The pounding of his heart only heightens at the sight of her already looking at him with the most endearing smile cast on her lovely countenance—eyes swirling with an ambiguity but nevertheless, warmth for him.

His own stare softens, melting into hers as they search her face for any hint of falsity—rejoicing internally upon seeing none and his body lifts to place his plush lips on hers for the briefest of moments.

And yet that single second felt like heaven to him.

The feel of her bare skin against his mouth ignites a desire in him he never knew he had, overtaking his senses and ridding him of every thought—the heavy longing for her growing with every breath wasted not having her and it festers inside him, eating away so quickly he feels he might shrivel and perish.

But he can’t yield to it—not now. He might scare (y/n) away, especially after her confessing her heart, professing to him of her trust and devotion by calling him her hero, her knight in shining armor. He might ruin his chances before he even completely captures her heart.

He titters at the surprise painted on the girl’s face and he lifts his hand to caress her cheek with the gentlest of touches. “And I shall be for as long as you wish.”

—

“The fish tell me you’re an exquisite skater.”

Sunghoon’s brows knit as he turns to face the owner of the lulling—yet, with a touch of mischief—voice. “The fish?”

She nods and directs her gaze to the large man-made pond at which he crouches beside. “They tell me you tend to skate here when the water freezes over as you find yours at your own home not as freeing.”

The noble readies to stand but decides against it when the girl joins his side—mindless of the ends of her dress that drape onto the grass as she gazes longingly at the water. “Is that so? What else do these fish tell you?”

(y/n) smiles, as if amused that he seeks to know more despite the ridiculousness of her statements. As an underwater creature, it is a norm for her to speak to marine life but the same can’t be said for a creature of land. “That you possess an extravagant beauty among your kind.”

At this, a corner of his lips twitch to a smirk of intrigue. “And? What do you say?”

Her stare shifts to the man’s reflection cast onto the still water’s surface. “I wouldn’t say I’m against it.”

Her indirect yet direct admission of his beauty makes his smirk widen into a grin and he too, turns to look at the pond.

‘What a shame. A beautiful woman and yet, disturbed by her own insanity,’ he thinks and exhales through his nose. But the smile on his face doesn’t falter. ‘Well, she isn’t completely useless.’

Of all the women Sunghoon has shared his bed with, none are comparable to the woman who now sits a mere forearm’s length away from him. If he plays things right, he might be able to have her tonight.

“So you think I’m handsome?” He asks boldly and (y/n) nods but still keeps her attention to the small fish swimming. “Then, why don’t you look at me?”

His question prompts her to do exactly that—to look at him—and she’s abruptly met with his deep gaze boring into hers. He smiles at her obedience. “Tell me, what you like about me.”

For a moment, a silence encases the two with the exception of the occasional chirps of birds and faint rustles of the flora dancing into one another with the help of the wind.

She's attentive towards him, eyes fixed on his face and although Sunghoon knows that she's only finding the answer to his question, he can't help but feel slightly abashed—tips of his ears turning red as his apple bobs in his throat from the fluster.

"You remind me of winter," (y/n) finally responds and he blinks, nearly missing her answer if it isn't for her tilting her head at the notice of his straying mind.

He clears his throat to gather his voice. "Are you a fan of the season?"

"I suppose. The cold and snow refreshes me in comparison to hot, drying summer," the girl explains briefly and once again turns away to look at the pond—making him frown.

The lack of attention from her is beginning to vex him. What's so interesting about a pond and its small swimming fish? Obviously, nothing much—especially with the Park Sunghoon existing in the same space. He's far more eye-catching and valuable than a pool of water.

He retains his composure however, knowing that he can't lose his head if he wants to succeed in his objective. "You must be good friends with the fish seeing as how you're so engrossed by them."

His comment earns him a soft chuckle and he'd be lying if he said the saccharine sound doesn't placate him. The twinkle in his eyes and fangs peeking from below his top lip as he smiles are telltale signs.

"You're so silly. I was more of looking at the water. My close fish friends are at sea anyways," she answers truthfully but Sunghoon believes it as another one of her crazy talk.

And in order to win her heart, he chooses to entertain them. "Must be lovely to have friends from so many places. I take it that they're very cordial?"

The girl nods and her face suddenly lights up as her figure perks. Sunghoon watches with puzzlement as she reaches into a seamlessly hidden pocket at the side of her dress before pulling out her fist and offering it to the noble.

One of the latter's dark, luxuriant brows arches with skepticism—that is, until she uncurls her fingers to reveal the three irregularly shaped pearls resting on her palm.

Even when they're not in perfect circles, they are still priceless and beautiful—white coats carrying a pearly sheen that shines at every light and the rawness of their forms create an exquisite uniqueness that Sunghoon has never seen on any other jewel. An inestimable grandeur.

"I received these from my friends but now that I see them, I feel that they would be in much better hands in yours," (y/n) claims as she gently places the three orbs onto his opened palm. Eyes upturned and smile bright, she looks at him with an apparent eagerness. "With such smooth porcelain skin, you seem to be a pearl yourself."

Sunghoon is unable to retort a witty remark, nor can he muster a scoff—captivated by the girl as he admires her limitless geniality. How can one be so unconditionally kind and sweet to a naive extent? To casually grant one with prized possessions simply because she thought they would look better on him. It's foolish—and yet, he finds it so foolishly lovable.

Stretching his lips to a smile, he's finally able to let out a small chuckle. "Are you sure your friends won't be upset with you by giving these to me?"

(y/n) shakes her head and stands—hands dusting her skirt and straightening it before she turns towards the mansion.

"How are you sure?" Sunghoon asks once more as he too, rises to his feet and now towering over the other.

The latter titters and brings her hands behind her back, clasping them together as she begins her amble. "Because I ate them."

It's like every single gear in his head has stopped and all senses numbed apart from his hearing as her voice—her answer echoes in his ears like an enchantment.

'She...ate them?' He mentally thinks and yet, instead of feeling horrified or even mildly perturbed, the hunger he's felt since before only grows—bubbling and boiling in his stomach up to his chest and throat as it urges him to just seize the defenseless girl in front of him.

To paint her skin with his tongue and relishing in her taste, coating every surface with his moisture before sinking his teeth and leaving conspicuous dents of his fangs as to mark her, warning any other who dares to approach. He craves to own her, to make her his and his alone and have her sing and scream his name so frequently that it becomes the only word she knows—to be the only one she recognizes.

Oh, how terribly starved he is for her.

"Are you not returning? The sky will darken soon," the girl asks as she twirls to him slightly—skirt swaying and hair flowing in the wind before she tucks it behind her ear to reveal her face. Her pure eyes staring curiously at him as she awaits his answer.

Sunghoon gulps, both mind and heart turning erratic as he struggles to remain composed and stoic despite his flawless performance throughout the years.

"Sunghoon?"

He throbs with need at the sound of her voice calling his name and his lashes flutter from his shaking lids, dazed and mesmerized by just a simple gesture from her before he nods his head with a stutter.

A gone man.

—

Jaeyun melts into (y/n)’s hands that play with his hair—braiding and twirling the dark locks with her fingers, delivering delicious, gentle tugs onto his crown—and his eyes are shut tight as he relishes in the feeling.

It all happened so quickly, unexpectedly, for him and (y/n) to become close. All it took was him loitering in the garden one afternoon from boredom and (y/n) inviting him to join her lone picnic. He accepted, seeing as he had nothing else worthwhile to do but he didn’t expect anything from the activity.

He thought it would be mediocre at best. After all, what else is there to do aside from sipping warm tea and munching on fresh fancy-filled sandwiches? And he can’t even do anything ‘exciting’ with (y/n) being so out in the open.

And yet, after a few minutes in, Jaeyun was filled with a sense of tranquility and comfort that he’s never felt before.

He was embraced by a warm sense of home and relaxation, one that entirely limps his body and empties his mind that makes him believe the respite he’s had all this time before are poor excuses. There’s just something about (y/n), something that makes him feel so casually free and blissful—even while doing nothing and just…reveling in each other’s presence.

Just like now.

“(y/n),” Jaeyun starts quietly as he leans his head against the pillow she put on her lap for his ease since he’s sitting on the carpeted floor and her on the couch. “How would you like to stay at my residence for some time?”

The girl’s motions freeze entirely and that one simple act instantly makes him straighten his back as eyes shoot open, alarmed and anxious.

“(y/n)?” He calls again, shaky, as he spins on his seat, looking up at her with eyes pleading for an answer to her abrupt change. What was it? Did his invitation offend her? Does she think that his offer is with salacious intent? It won’t be a surprise if she did. Did his reputation precede him and affected her view of him without him knowing?

The noise in his head quietens as she begins to speak.

“No, it’s nothing. It’s just…I don’t plan on leaving Sunoo, Jaeyun,” (y/n) softly declares as her fingers brush the fallen strands of his hair away from his eyes. His doe eyes blink up at her nervously as his brows raise and angle downwards at the end, an adorable expression for an atrocious man.

Jaeyun gently holds her hand just as it begins to retract. “But, why? It won’t be for long. Just for a brief, even a visit! You’ll love it there, I’m sure of it.”

“Sunoo won’t like that,” the girl rejects again with a soft shake of her head. “He’s my saviour, Jaeyun. He was the one who brought me to his home and cared for me. I’d hate to go against him in any way.”

For the first time in forever, Jaeyun loathes himself for having fun. If only he wasn’t so drunk and occupied with the pleasures of the red light district, he might’ve been the one to find her. He might’ve been the one to welcome her in his home and is able to covet her freely without fear or concern for anyone else.

Because then, he would be the one to own her. The one whom she’s tethered to, just as how she is with Sunoo.

He furrows, frustration imbuing.

“But recently, I have been a bit worried,” she says suddenly and this pulls the other’s attention back to her. “I overheard him last time discussing with his aide regarding the collection of tax. And I know, I know it’s for the greater good but…I can’t help wondering if his aide’s words run truer than I hope.”

“What do you mean?” Jaeyun asks, now fully focused as he sees an opportunity to cease her concern, to be her knight in shining armour. His hand squeezes hers assuringly, prompting her to spill the words in her head.

She sighs in defeat. “His aide said that the amount of tax might be too overwhelming for the people, but Sunoo said it was urgent and that nothing could be done.”

Jaeyun restrains from scoffing out loud. He knows that the only reason their host is rushing with the collection is because he had been slacking.

“I’m aware that there must be a reason why he’s putting such great pressure on the villagers but I fret,” (y/n) confesses and meets his eyes, making his heart skip a beat. “Do you think they’ll be alright?”

This is it. His moment.

He smiles and shifts to sit on his heels before clasping both her hands in his. His thumbs draw soothing circles below her knuckles. “If it may bring you some sort of comfort, we can go to the village.”

The rekindled sparks in her eyes bring him more joy than he ever thought they could and he unconsciously wears a grin as his tender gaze is transfixed on her.

“We can?”

‘No. To be honest, no. Not without Sunoo losing his marbles,’ he thinks but his smiling eyes say otherwise.

“Of course.”

—

CRASH!

“Where is she?? FIND HER!” Sunoo shrieks with unbridled wrath as he tightly grips (y/n)’s dress in his fist. Shards of white adorned with prettily painted flowers scatter the sparkling floor from the tea set he hurled towards the wall.

His aide flinches at his piercing scream and gathers his hands together in fear while maids hurry to clean the mess. “W-we’re trying our best, my lord.”

“Do her servants have no clue where she went?” Sunoo snaps as fox eyes sharpen more than they ever have and Yoo shakes his head vigorously. “I should’ve assigned her those guards but I didn’t as I was afraid she’d get uncomfortable. Foolish! Idiot!”

Yoo and the other staff around shudder violently, terrified of what their master will do. They have never seen him be so cross and upset—because he has never been this emotional before. But ever since (y/n) entered his life, they’ve seen many changes in their employer.

“Young lord! We’ve brought a servant who said he saw (y/n) before her disappearance!” A guard declares after performing a respectful bow and enters the chamber alongside his colleague with a shivering slim boy held tightly between them.

Sunoo’s glare shifts to the poor staff member and only then does Yoo feel like he can breathe—stumbling slightly as his abrupt inhale nearly knocks his balance.

“Speak,” the noble orders lowly and the worker gulps harshly.

“I-I saw her in the garden with M-Master Jaeyun. The two were unaccompanied which w-was odd but I thought they were merely enjoying a stroll so I…I said nothing.”

SMACK! THUD!

Gasps erupt from the other servants while hands fly to cover their mouth, taken aback. Widened eyes glance at the noble before they quickly avert them, horrified at the thought of the repercussions if they are caught.

The fallen boy remains ashamed and hurt on the ground while holding the stinging pain against his cheek from Sunoo’s abrasive slap.

“That accursed Jaeyun hyung…” He curses below his breath before turning around, a motion everyone is grateful for as they watch him sit on the missing girl’s bed. He stares at the expensive silk in his hand before running his other against the soft sheets of her mattress. His inordinately unfeeling gaze casts onto her pillow as he smiles at the imagery of her slumbering peacefully but it vanishes as quickly as it forms. “Go to the village. I have a feeling that they might be there…”

His orders are absolute—all necessary figures quickly departing to execute his demand while the servants hastily leave him to the comfort of his own presence, hoping he will simmer down.

Sunoo lays on her bed and buries himself underneath her blanket—basking in her scent and lingering warmth as he clutches her dress against his chest. His head turns into her fluffy, soft pillow and lets his lips brush against the cool fabric as a woeful whimper sounds.

He misses her. He wishes to see her. To touch her and embrace her and be graced with her presence, be spoiled in her unconditional affections. He yearns for her. He needs her.

He can’t live without her.

Knock, knock.

He doesn’t respond to the sound, expecting the visitor to take their leave so when the door swings open, he’s quick to recover to a sitting position as a glower forms.

“Who dare—Sunghoon hyung?” Confusion laces the younger’s tone as the said noble moseys into the room. “What’s so urgent for you to disrupt my private time?”

A scoff emits from the older as his thick, defined brow cocks up with intrigue. “Private time in (y/n)’s room? Seems scandalous, is it not?”

His mockery ticks him off and Sunoo stands, letting go of the girl’s dress in the process. “If you have nothing worthwhile to say, leave.”

Sunghoon raises his hands to his chest in surrender. “Calm. I was merely trying to lighten the mood.”

The younger’s silence and intensifying glare should be enough as a hint to leave and yet, he still chooses to stay.

“Please, the matter I am to discuss with you is regarding (y/n). I’m certain that you’d like to know.”

The other perks.

“I’ve noticed that she doesn’t seem to be quite…fortified in the head. There seems to be a few screws loose,” Sunghoon says slowly and the younger noble’s silence compels him to continue. “So I was going to suggest a proper facility for her to perhaps, fix her. A new institute has recently opened up near by home and I’ve heard of their excellent treatments—always proving to be effective and the staff are cordial and capable.”

Feeling proud of himself, Sunghoon grins brightly as he expectantly rubs his hands together behind his back. Of course, his ‘helpful’ suggestion is a mere excuse. After Sunoo drops her off to the institute, Sunghoon will only collect her and have her stay in his abode—to be his once and for all.

Sunoo isn’t dumb, he’s bound to be suspicious but among all of them, he is also known to be one of the nicest despite his stand-offish attitude. He’ll accept Sunghoon’s proposal if it meant better lifestyle for (y/n).

But perhaps, he’s become too naive, too complacent and confident to realise that his friend’s affections for (y/n) has run deeper than he bargained for. An affection so strong that it borders with obsession.

The sound of the younger’s scoff pulls Hoon away from his reverie and his dark brows knit at him. “So, you too?”

“Pardon?” Sunghoon sounds, visibly confused and Sunoo stands before striding towards him with a mien, solemn, and gaze, frigid.

“First it was Jaeyun, and now you. It’s laughable how any of you think that you can steal (y/n) away from me,” the host scoffs, a cynical smirk on his face and he tilts his head up to him. "I think it is wise for you to leave my abode at this moment, and never set foot in it until I permit you to."

Sunghoon's luxuriant brows knit as his panicked eyes flicker between the other's, deeply shocked by his abrupt verdict. Seeing the inordinate hostility in his golden eyes and the taut fists trembling on his sides from his restraint, it is as if he no longer recognizes. As if they are distant strangers.

His words are caught in his throat, horrified at the young's unforeseen aggression and thankfully, he needs not to respond as the rapidly approaching clamour and discordance of sabatons against tiles.

Like an alarmed lemur, Sunoo's head snaps to the door instantly as eyes widen with anticipation right as his guards enter while flanking (y/n) and Jake. Relief washes over him, shoulders falling and corners of his lips curling as he pulls the girl away from his men's holds.

"(y/n)! I thought you left me. I was so worried," Sunoo sighs into her hair as he embraces her tighty—a scandalous gesture for unwed figures and yet, none dare to refute. He expects to be reciprocated, to feel her own limbs wrap around his torso with warmth yet instead, he's pushed an arm's length away and is greeted by a face scrunched with pure franticness and concern.

"Sunoo, it isn't his fault! It was my idea, truly! I was the one who encouraged the escapade. Not Jaeyun!" She pleads for mercy—not to grant it to her, but to Jake. And it irks Sunoo, so so much to an extent where he wishes for the older lad's demise.

He casts his focus to the said man, eyes that were previously soft and cordial turning sharp and beady like those of a serpent's as he calmly approaches the apprehended noble. "Jake."

The lack of honorifics shocks the latter who's so accustomed to the other addressing him with respect—even if they were to be in a friendly banter, Sunoo never forgets their proper labels as he thinks of dignity very highly.

Which meant that right now, Jaeyun is very, truly, undeniably fuc—

"Just as I have said to Sunghoon, you are to pack your bags and to never dare to approach my property in any circumstance. And this order is to remain until I, myself, revoke it," he hisses his words that are laced with venom. Glare fixed solely on the man whose face blanched upon understanding his command.

That would mean he can never see (y/n) again. He can't simply accept that.

"It wasn't my fault! If you weren't such a selfish, lazy arse, you would not have needed to burden your people with an absurd amount of tax! (y/n) was just worried for them and I sought to ease her of her anxiety that was caused by you!" Jaeyun argues, seething as his chest heaves heavily. It's unwise to argue with the host whose edict will dictate his fate but that's all he can think of.

Sunoo scowls, brow arches with disbelief. "What?"

The feel of cold, trembling fingers intertwining with his distract him and he grows quiet upon meeting (y/n)'s gaze. She shakes her head softly as she rolls her lips between her teeth, brows scrunch and eyes constantly shifting from one of his to the other.

"Please," she begs wispily and brings his hand against her cheek which she then nuzzles into. Like ice to a bruise and a hearth in winter, Sunoo's tumultuous emotions are pacified, leaving only heavy exhaustion from his mental strain and the shaky exhale he perform is a telltale sign. He overlooks the curl of her lips when he surrenders into her—cupping her other cheek with his vacant hand before he presses his plush lips onto her forehead in a lingering, intimate kiss.

Sunghoon and Jaeyun gawk at the sight, both shocked and envious of his privilege to do such a thing with her, but they are quickly dismissed by him who chooses to abide by her requests. Even Sunghoon is excused as he's now too eager to spend time with (y/n) after being deprived of her for hours.

As the doors of her lavish chamber shut behind the two nobles, they turn to one another and exchange knowing yet simultaneously understanding looks before they separate to their own private rooms.

"I didn't know you would be so affected. I apologize," (y/n) says softly as Sunoo brings her to the bed before gently sitting her beside him. "I promise I will not do it again."

The noble stares at her, hurt flashing across his deep gaze as he recalls how she willingly chose to leave him and follow Jaeyun, but he only shakes his head a smile. She's still his and no one can change that. "It's true I was I upset. But, it was my fault. I knew I was being unfair to the people, but desperation lead me to be...selfish. I shouldn't have." "I'll mend it. I shall revoke my order and instead, retrieve the amount needed from my personal vault. My father would not know if I don't tell him, right?"

He lets out a small chuckle with a grin that spells mischief and slyness. His eyes upturned as they scintillate with excitement.

And at that, (y/n)'s brows raise briefly, pleasantly...surprised at his sudden declaration. He'll use his own wealth to correct his wrongs? Of course, it is to be expected—for one who is morally responsible and selfless—but never did she expect that he, or any of the seven nobles, would make such a decision.

"(y/n)?" Sunoo calls softly, bemused by her abrupt silence before finding himself grappling to remain solid and sane when she presses her lips against his cheeks. His temperature spikes, each nerve end tingling as his face turns pink like a blossom. "(y-y/n)?"

The girl smiles as she cups his cheek, an enigmatic yet, warm gleam in her eyes as she stares tenderly at him. Sunoo feels as if he'll implode from how inordinately quick his heart rate is.

"You're sweet," she says, a strange sense of ambiguity laced within. Her thumb caresses his dewy skin that blooms redder. "I've truly...grown attached."

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 2

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

inspired by ‘milk of the sirens’ by melanie martinez and ‘siren’ by kailee morgue

𝜗𝜚 enha are very ew here :C so proceed with caution!! i can't wait for (y/n) to give them a taste of their own medicine :D erm, if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please, do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

taglist for this series is open—send an ask to be included ♡

@angelicyouth @lilyuwon @sakanelli-afc @lakoya @clara12o @heeseung-min @inkpot-winters @lilikisuki @randomanothercreature @laylasbunbunny @hveanlyanqelic

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[theshelbyclan]

A Sisterly Bond

Summary: Ada and Teddy don’t have much in common, but that doesn’t mean that they couldn’t make a good team

A/N: I just felt like writing again, and for Ada and Teddy in particular. I always imagine them getting on better and better as Teddy gets older. She’s still young in this one, so it’s a rocky relationship still 😂 anyways, hope you enjoy to whoever still is reading my stuff!

Words: 2630

*****

“Teddy, would you be so kind as to give me my coat?”

“No.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Ada sighed, “why do you always have to be difficult?”

“Am not,” Teddy grumbled.” I just don’t see why I have to be your lady’s maid, just because you’re my sister.”

“Ooh, there’s a big word!” the older sister replied sarcastically.

“Tommy says all fancy rich ladies have a lady’s maid.”

“ ‘Tommy says’…” Ada rolled her eyes and Teddy stuck out her tongue at her.

In many ways, Ada and Teddy were nothing alike. There was the age gap, of course, but they also just seemed to have very little in common. Ada didn’t care much for family business, while Teddy wanted to know everything about everything. Ada tried her best to live her own life without her brothers interfering at every turn, whereas Teddy wanted to be like her brothers in every way. Ada made an effort to never care too much, unlike Teddy, who cared so much and didn’t have a problem showing it. Also, Ada wanted to go out in her fancy coat and high heels, and Teddy wanted to run free in her brother’s trousers and shirt.

Polly watched the two sisters and followed Teddy with her eyes as she stormed out the door in a huff. She then turned to Ada and said, “Would it kill you to just say a kind word to her every now and then?”

Ada had her nose back in the papers and shrugged, “I don’t know, Pol. Would it kill her to practise some good manners?”

“You know what she’s like.”

“Oh, I do,” she sighed, “I remember when she was born and you told me how nice it would be for me to have another girl in the family. Instead we got… Teddy.”

———

Nine-year-old Teddy Shelby was walking through the muddy streets and pretended she was a pirate. With a stick in hand, she fought off the assailants only she could see and shouted out battle cries. But in the chaos of Small Heath, no one really noticed her. And if they did, they simply thought: there goes Teddy Shelby…

Her playing was suddenly interrupted though by her youngest brother. “Aunt Polly says she wants you to go with Ada!” Finn shouted out, as he ran towards her.

“Why?” she sighed, exasperated.

“I don’t know. She needs help carrying things from the market?”

Teddy kicked a rock, “Can’t you do it?”

Finn shrugged again, “It’s a woman’s job, isn’t it.”

“Oh fuck off!” As Finn pouted a little, she added, “Please can you go? Ada doesn’t even like me…”

If there was one thing Finn couldn’t stand, it was seeing his little sister upset, so he agreed. “You know, Arthur is always with John. Ada likes me, but you’re Tommy’s favourite.”

“I know.”

“So it’s not that bad, right?” Finn tried hopefully.

“I suppose not.” But Teddy couldn’t help but feel a little sadness over it.

———

“Aunt Pol says I’m to get you ready for church.”

“I am ready,” Teddy motioned to her dress, which she hated so intensely.

Ada sighed, “What have you done to your knees now? They look like you’ve become the chimney sweep’s latest apprentice.”

“Why do you always have to badger me?” Teddy called out, full of frustration.

“Just… clean your knees before Polly sees,” she waved a hand and put on a hat.

Teddy started scrubbing furiously at her legs. Ada watched her and decided that maybe she should make an effort. So she asked, “What do you think of this hat? Does is suit me?”

“I don’t know,” the little girl shrugged, “it stays on so I’m guessing it fits your head?”

“Bloody hell, I don’t know why I even bother. Let’s go.”

———

In the late afternoon sun, Tommy was talking to a man about a horse. Next to him, a small girl was following the conversation intensely, trying to learn as much from the interaction as she could.

“I’ll give you four for her, but no more.”

“Can’t do less than six, mister Shelby,” the man slapped her brother’s hand, “She’s a good horse, that one. Strong.”

“She’s no war horse and I could have fucking five of her for that price. Four and a half.”

“I have a family to feed, sir. Five?”

Tommy shook his hand and that was that.

After he’d left, Teddy looked up and, like she’d been in the business for twenty years, said, “She’s worth at least ten, Tommy.”

“Is she?” he took a drag on his cigarette, but inside felt like he could burst with pride. Then he lifted Teddy up and planted her up onto the horse, “Go on, tell me what she’s like.”

As Teddy rode around the yard, Ada joined her brother. With her usual air of indifference, she commented, “Well, if it isn’t the big brother and his pride and joy.”

“Hello, Ada…”

“Did she persuade you into spending more money once again?”

“Look at her,” Tommy pointed, “She might be the best rider in all of Small Heath.”

Ada raised her eyebrows and mumbled, “High praise…” In truth, Ada was impressed. She’d always been the odd one out in the family when it came to horses. She never much cared for them and riding them had always been more of a chore than a pleasure.

“Why don’t you tell her how good she looks up on that horse, eh?”

“Me? Why the hell would I tell her?”

Tommy locked eyes with Ada, “Because it’s you she wants to hear it from.”

She laughed a little at that, “No, Tommy, it’s you she wants to hear it from. Everything she wants to hear from you.”

As Ada walked off again, Tommy called after her, “She is your only sister, Ada.”

“And what a joy she is,” but it didn’t come out that sarcastic this time.

After a few more minutes or riding, Teddy hopped down from the horse again. Her brother asked her some questions about the horse and she answered to the best of her abilities. But in between, Teddy carefully asked, “Was that Ada?”

“Yes, just on her way home from the Bullring.”

“Did she watch me ride?” Teddy asked in a small voice.

Tommy observed her for a second, “Now, why do you ask that?”

She shrugged her shoulders and turned away to brush off the horse, “Just curious.”

———

Polly was a modern woman in many ways, but not in every way. She might’ve even been insulted if you called her that. So, when it was time for the spring cleaning of the house, she asked the girls to help. Well, she didn’t really ask.

“Ada, you start on sweeping and Teddy you can follow her with the bucket.”

Both girls rolled their eyes so hard it had to hurt and Polly couldn’t help but notice how in those few seconds, they looked exactly alike.

“I’ll be in the back with the washing,” their aunt continued, leaving no room for arguments.

Cigarette in hand, Ada started sweeping the floors at her own leisurely pace.

“Hurry up, will you?” Teddy grumbled, “I have to wait on you to mop and I do have other things to do, you know.”

“Oh? And what important appointments might you have, you strange little idiot?”

“Don’t call me an idiot!” Teddy stomped down het foot, “and hurry the fuck up!”

“Swear again and I’ll give you a slap!”

“Go on then!”

Ada huffed and swung her broom, aiming for her annoying sister. Teddy ducked and laughed, “You’re too slow.”

“Teddy…” she sighed, “I don’t want to do this either and I don’t have the energy to fight you as well. Just shut up and get this done.”

“Fine. Go on then, work, unless you’re afraid you’ll break a fucking nail or something.”

That earned Teddy a firm smack around the head. Angrily, she picked up her bucket and threw its contents in Ada’s direction, instantly soaking her sister.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?!”

Aunt Polly came barging in the house after hearing Ada scream. Inside, she found a furious Teddy with one red cheek and an even more furious Ada, completely wet and dripping.

“I left you two alone for five fucking minutes,” she glared daggers, “and you can’t even behave for that long?”

Ada seemed to have found her composure again and grabbed another, dry, cigarette. “That’s what happens when you leave me with an actual fucking savage, Pol.”

“It’s not my fault! She started it!” Teddy fumed, “She called me an idiot and she does that all the time because she hates me!”

“Jesus Christ,” Polly lit a cigarette of her own, “Ada, go get changed and then you can continue the work outside. Teddy, you take over the sweeping. Probably my own fucking fault for thinking you could get along for half a day…”

With all the dignity she could muster in a soaked dress, Ada stalked off. Teddy picked up the broom and tried to avoid Polly’s eyes.

“I’ll have a word with her,” Polly said eventually, not without sympathy.

“Which is more than I’ll ever fucking have again,” Teddy spit.

“God,” Polly whispered to herself, “Why did you have to make them both so fucking stubborn?”

———

It was the evening after pay day, so all the pubs in Small Heath were filled to the brim. Normally, they didn’t serve women on their own, but Ada Shelby was the exception to the rule. Harry wouldn’t dare to refuse her.

“Here you go, Miss Shelby,” he said, as he handed her a drink.

She took it gratefully and went to sit down. The truth was, she was hoping to catch a glimpse of Freddie Thorne, but he hadn’t been in yet.

After fifteen minutes, she wanted another one and made her way over to the bar again. But the place was packed and it took too long for her liking. So, Ada went behind the bar and poured her own drink. Teddy watched her and smirked slightly. Deep down, she did admire her sister, simply because she wasn’t impressed by anything or anyone really.

At the same time, an older gentlemen strolled into the Garrison. He was dressed differently, looked like money, and had the confidence to match. Short as he was, he made up for it in attitude. Teddy didn’t know him and eyed him carefully.

Then he spotted Ada and made his way over. Leaning on the bar, he started talking to her, but Teddy couldn’t hear. She stood up and walked a little closer, while remaining invisible in the crowd.

“Come on, sweetheart, pretty girl like you all alone without a man?”

“Who says I am?” Ada shrugged, and Teddy could tell she was uncomfortable.

He smiled at her without humour, “How about I take you for a good time. You don’t want to be difficult, do you?”

Teddy frowned and felt the urge to spit at him. But instead she noticed how he was standing up on the little ledge of the bar, just a few inches off the ground. Cockily, he balanced on one leg, presumably to make up for the inches he lacked.

So the little girl grinned and just as he was telling Ada about all the things he had and could offer her, Teddy walked up to him and kicked him in the back of his knees. At once, he lost his balance and his legs buckled. And in one swift motion, he collapsed onto the bar and then fell flat on his arse.

The pub erupted in laughter.

Teddy joined in, but only got to celebrate her triumph for a few seconds. The man became furious and grabbed her, raising his hand to strike her. But before he could, Ada had grabbed a bottle and smashed it over his head. Afterwards, she calmly brushed the glass off her own coat and bit, “Now, piss off.”

“Yeah!” Teddy added, “Piss off!”

Ada looked down at her and grabbed her hand. She didn’t feel like waiting for what was to happen next, so she marched her little sister out of the pub.

Outside, neither said a word for a long time. Eventually, Ada was the first one to speak, “Would you mind explain what the bloody hell that was?”

Teddy shrugged, a little winded from having to run after Ada in her four inch heels, “I thought he was a bad man, so I didn’t want him to talk to you.”

Ada looked down at her strange little sister and felt a sudden surge of love for her, “He was a bad man. And I didn’t want him to talk to me.”

“Why?”

“Teddy… there are some good men out there…”

“Are there?”

“…but most of them are just bastards.”

Teddy pondered on that for a second, “How do you know which one is the not-bastard?”

Ada smiled, “Well, apparently, you already do. This one was not one of them.”

“So, you’re not mad at me for kicking him?” She tried carefully.

“Mad?” She laughed, “I thought it was bloody brilliant!”

Teddy smiled back up at Ada, beaming with pride.

“Thank you, Teddy, because for a moment, I did get scared.”

“I can come with you all the time, if you like!” her little sister quipped happily, “Keep watch for you?”

“That won’t be necessary, sweetheart, but I appreciate the offer.”

Casting her eyes down again, “Yeah, I know you don’t want me around…”

And quite abruptly, Ada stopped her in the streets, “Now wait a second, you strange little…” she quickly swallowed her words, “Teddy. Just because I don’t always like you, doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Do you understand?”

“No. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe not,” Ada marched on again and Teddy once again struggled to keep up, “but it will as soon as you find your own not-bastard!”

Teddy looked a little too pensive for Ada’s liking, so she said in her version of being comforting, “I’ll look out for you too and kick any man that gets to close, don’t worry.”

“What happened to you two?” Polly demanded, as her two nieces walked through the door.

“Nothing,” they both replied in unison.

Thomas looked from one to the other, “Tell me what happened.”

“We told you, Thomas, nothing happened,” Ada replied airily, while taking off her gloves.

“Teddy, you fucking tell me now.”

But even Teddy didn’t crumble under her brother’s piercing eyes this time. Instead, she looked up to Ada and said, “It’s nothing, Tommy. Just women’s business. Nothing for you to worry about.” She was now directly quoting her other female role model and Polly had no choice but to bend her head to hide her smile.

Ada smiled back at Teddy and left the room, with her little sister in tow.

“What the fuck was that?” Tommy sighed.

Polly replied, not without some smugness, “I believe that was a sisterly bond in action.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Yes.”

“Fucking hell,” he breathed, as he lit another cigarette.

Polly turned around to continue her work, “You’re outnumbered now, Thomas!”

Tommy tried to make a dismissive hand gesture, “There’s four of us, only two of them.”

“Yes, but they’re women, sweetheart, and women count for at least two men. Besides, they’re together now.”

This was all too much for the great leader of the Peaky Blinders to understand. There were some things, ‘women’s business’ as Teddy so elegantly had put it, that he tried to steer clear of. Still, he felt a pang of sadness over his little sister growing up. Maybe he was losing her.

“You won’t,” his aunt read his mind, “but you can’t protect her forever either.”

“If I can’t, who will?”

Polly smiled gently, “We will.”

*****

Masterlist

[ravendruid]

hi hello i would like to request de rolo siblings + rainy days please

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for sending the prompt! I picked Percy and Cass, I hope that's the siblings you were thinking of ^_^ I hope you like it!

Chess and Tea

(Read on AO3)

Cassandra de Rolo takes off her boots with a sigh of relief at finally being able to get out of the soggy clothes she finds herself in. Her thick, woolen socks are drenched, her trousers stick to her legs in a way that makes it hard to walk, and her tunic feels cold and uncomfortable, not to mention her pasty hair dripping down her face. Overall, Cassandra is ready to dry off, put on a comfortable pair of pajamas and spend the rest of her day curled in front of the fire reading. Alas, someone has other plans, if the knock on her bedroom door is any indication.

“Come in,” Cassandra turns to the door, halfway through taking off her drenched jacket. Percival peeks in with his untamed white hair and scraggly snowy beard, dragging a cane Cassandra knows is just for show—and protection—behind him. 

“May I?” Percy confirms. Cassandra nods, then gestures towards the small sitting area in front of the already lit fireplace.

“Is everything alright, brother?” Cassandra steps closer to the fire. She feels its warmth travel up her clothes and, even though it doesn’t do much to dry her off, it’s still comforting.

“Not in the slightest.” Percy shakes his head with a fond smile. “I wanted to check in on you. I heard you’ve just arrived from Westruun.”

“I did, yes. Negotiations went well, if that’s what you are wondering.”

“Well,” Percy hesitates. It has been a good two decades since Cassandra saw her brother hesitate and blush the way he is—in fact, she can absolutely recall the last time he did so. It was when he asked her to title Vex’ahlia.

“Percival, no offense. I’m drenched and cold and I would very much like a bath. Can you make this quick, please?” Cassandra interrupts him. 

Percy fumbles with the cane, hemming and hawing, then he finally says, “I was wondering if you had some free time to spend with your favorite brother.”

“You are my only brother, Percival,” She rolls her eyes, but gives her older brother a teasing smile. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, after you bathe and clean yourself, of course,” Percy nods and wrinkles his nose as if to say Cassandra stinks. “I was thinking maybe you could join me for a game of chess over tea and biscuits.”

“What? Chess and tea? Where does this request come from? Do you want something?”

“Can’t a brother just ask his little sister to spend some time just because?” Percy asks, slightly offended. He gets up and strides to Cassandra, then raises his hand as if he is about to rub her hair but thinks better of it and lets the hand fall to his side. 

“I suppose. Sure. I will join you in a moment, then.” Cassandra nods, then leads him to the door. 

Cassandra joins Percival in the family’s private library. The man is already sitting at a table by the large windows that, on a sunny day, overlook the city. Today, however, they make the room look like they are on the other side of a massive waterfall. 

When she approaches, Cassandra notices the fully set up chess board on the table, right next to the tea set and a plate of assorted biscuits, scones and cookies. “Hello, brother. I see you are ready,” She greets Percy, who gets up when he sees her. The gesture is not lost on her. No matter how many decades have passed since they recovered Whitestone, Percival still haunts himself for leaving Cassandra to die in the snow when they were young and escaping. 

“I–yes, I am. Please,” Percy extends a hand to the chair, knowing full well Cassandra would fuss about it if he pulled it for her. She might be a lady, but she is his sister first and foremost, and brothers don’t need to pull the chair for their sisters—or at least in their household.

“So, did you really just want to spend time with me?” Cassandra asks. She watches as Percy pours milk into his tea, then she picks up the sugar and drops a cube in her own cup. Percy merely nods, sips the tea and moves his first piece. 

“I was wondering how you’ve been? You have been working hard lately, and I have barely seen you.”

Cassandra plays her first move, nothing special to write home about, and nods. “Work has been busy lately, yes. I noticed you have been spending less time in your workshop. Are the kids running you ragged, brother?” She snorts.

“You have no idea,” Percy replies and for the first time in a long time—if not ever—Cassandra really sees the exhaustion and sorrow pooling underneath her brother’s eyes. If the wrinkles on his forehead could speak, they would tell tales of all the guilt Percy carries on his shoulders, of all the concerns and worries he has for his family, his friends, his city, and even the world. “How about you, sister? How are things with Kynan?”

“Good,” Cassandra allows a smile. It wasn’t shocking when, a decade ago, the shy man went to Percy to ask permission to court her. Cassandra rolled in laughter when Kynan told her about the encounter and how threatening Percival was to his captain. “Really good, in fact.”

“Good. I would hate to replace the captain of my guard,” Percy jokes, then his face falls into a serious expression. “Cass… y–you know you can talk to me, right? I understand our relationship hasn’t always been close but… you know I’m here, right, sister?”

“Of course, Percival. I know.” Cassandra says what she has felt like it’s the truth for a while now. “You are my only brother, after all.” She smiles.

“Right you are,” Percy smiles back. He moves a piece on the chessboard that makes Cassandra gasp in outrage, “How dare… Alright. That’s it. I’m about to beat your ass!”

They play the rest of the afternoon—Cassandra manages to beat Percy twice in the three games they play—until the tea grows cold and the rain gives up, allowing the sunset to shine its light on the resplendent, golden leaves of the Sun Tree below in the center of the city. 

Every curse has its end, every darkness must fall to the light, and sometimes, an older brother wanting to play chess over tea and biscuits with his younger sister is just an older brother wanting to make up for lost time, and nothing else.

[callmesel]

Okay, after writing that sapphic Perciver au I’m still obsessed with that idea so

SaPe AU Percy

I feel like Percy would like her hair braid by Ginny (sister bonding!!) so it’s helps with her wild curly hair, ponytails is not really hers style. She feels like she looks bald with a ponytail and that is going to pull her hairline back and she doesn’t want that. When her hair is loose, normally when she sleeps, it goes around her waist, maybe even longer but it’s not too long that is uncomfortable. She has a 8 step hair care routine that she follows every single night and te twins have pranked her with one of the bottles making her hair neon blue. ( she cried when they told her she had to have it for a few days, they apologised with chocolates, she forgiven them but prank them back and blame it on Charlie because little Perfect Percy would never do such a think)

She is the cute and pretty type of girl. Not really sexy nor attractive. She is like the girls other girls complement and probably get the “I don’t know if I wanna be her or be with her”, normally the second one.

She is tall for a girl but still really skinny. Like, 1’70 m or 5’7”. Not the tallest but still tall.

Her hips and chest are average. Not too big but not too small. But she sometimes feels that she would look better if she was curvier but she doesn’t think about it too often.

She has pretty hands. She takes care of her hands and have gotten compliments for them by the old lady at the library. The does her manicure and sometimes do it with Ginny at the Burrow and do a girls night at her room. Her nails are always a pale pink and if they’re not is because someone else painted them, she let Ron paint it for her and he choose a bright orange with yellow, she never let anyone do her nails again.

She has big blue eyes and long eyelashes and pretty pink lips and in Olivia’s opinion they are very distracting

She likes pretty things and pretty dresses but because her family is poor, she has to use her older brother’s trousers that are too big for her. Penn and Olivia spoil her with candy and clothes and books and what ever she wants or likes. She blushes every time they give her something but she is grateful. Ans she bakes and cooks for them as a thank you and they love it.

I think she would be like the shy nerd kid on the outside but if you met her she is really to be around with and she also goes into a lot of trouble but thankfully she has the twins as her brothers so she just blame them for anything and no one questions her. And other classmate once caught her doing something against the rules and told Mcgonagall but because they didn’t have any proof they got a talk from different teachers about spreading lies and that sweet Percy wouldn’t do such a thing blah blah blah. The classmate was, to say the least, annoyed.

Something about being the good student that always does everything right and never cause trouble that helps her a lot.

Who have stolen some ingredients from the potion room? Sure wasn’t Percy, no need to check her purse that sure isn’t full of those stolen ingredients. Who put glue on Snape’s chair? And there is an orange hair on the side! It must have been the twins or Ron and the Potter kid! Even though the hair is curly, but it can be Percy, her brothers must have wanted to incriminate her!

I feel like she is really talkative if you give her the chance to speak about topics she likes, like how pretty Livvy’s eyes are

Penny and FemPercy would have been the best of friends and they would have a girls night out every Saturday. And watching muggle romance movies and cry to Lalaland. She would have loved it.

She is the mother hen, how wouldn’t she? Oldest daughter and older sister of four, she has to take care of her children.

I also have the idea that she could be mtf, that would explain why Molly keep having children after her first daughter was born. She transitioned before Hogwarts, (but I feel that would have been too rush as at 11 y/o you wouldn’t really understand how you feel and in the 90’s you don’t really have that posibility in your head but it can be!) and she feels that she has to prove her mother that she is worthy of her love because I’m sure Molly would have tried to tell her that she was just confused and Bill and Charlie would have to protect her from the harsh words she was telling Percy.

I think that would be an interesting dynamic and imagine how she would reacted after telling Olivia who she was before and she just kisses her and tells her that not matter what, her heart it will be always with you. Or something like that. And she just cries because she is really happy that someone she loves so much fully accepts her and love her just the same or even more.

I also feel that people like to gossip about her, idk. She looks like someone that if she was in high school, nasty rumors would be circulating around her. Like “teacher’s pet” or “she can’t be that good, she must have dones sometí g to get that grade”. But after a while it just disappeared but in 3rd and 4th year it was really bad. But I also think that no one would really care abo her? Like, she is liked by most people but they are not friends. She kinds of sees to me like the type of classmate you think they’re cool but you don’t actually talk to. She is popular in her own way.

I also feel that many people (boys and girls) had a crush on her but never made a move because number 1, her siblings are scary and 2 she doesn’t seem interested. She have gave Hermione the butterflies, (that girl had a crush on every Weasley and you can’t convince me otherwise)

She also has a teddy bear, (Mr Tallyton?? Is that you?) that she brings everywhere and Olivia thinks that is super cute by Percy keeps the teddy bear in a special drawer that it’s decorated as a bed.

She is sweet, attentive, caring, intelligent, funny, charismatic in her own way and really pretty.

I think that it’s all. Olivia is going next 😈 also I’m making art for them because I can’t sleep as I keep thinking about them.

[therantsofawriterrr]

The Umbrella Academy Final Season: My Version

Part Three: Old Faces With New Personalities

Overview: While Lila and Diego keep hiding secrets from each other, Luther encounters familiar faces, that don't seem familiar in some aspects.

TW: Mature language, implied sex (idk maybe), hurt with comfort, the cafe scene except its different, tell me if i missed anything! Pairings in the chapter: Diego×Lila (Fluff alert hehe) A/N: So, I saw someone say that Five attended the Keeper meetings because he was still looking for a way to get his fam and himself back to their original timeline, which ig, makes sense, but i have established smn so yk im going with that but dw, we'll get to see that. Also, again, the Diego×Lila dynamic that we deserved to see. And a little surprise too (⁠◠⁠‿⁠◕⁠).

Masterlist

After the Keepers meeting ended, Lila and Five sat in a cafe in the next block, discussing the contents that were discussed.

"Look, if these artifacts are from different timelines and now they're showing up-" Lila started saying.

"It's possible the old man's reset didn't take," Five finished.

"What does that even mean?" Lila asked, hoping Five would have an answer.

"I have no idea," Five said in a tired voice. He looked like he hadn't slept in a while, which worried Lila a bit.

Over the last six years, she had grown closer to everyone in the Hargreeves family. She'd grown to be a caring aunt to Grace, a fun-loving sister-in-law to Klaus, a caring, supportive one to Luther, and a snarky, sarcastic one to Five.

"Look, whatever this is, don't say anything to the family just yet," Five requested. "Not even Diego."

"Absolutely not," Lila agreed. "He thinks I'm at book club."

He gave her a dirty look, not at all happy with the sentence.

"It's just easier that way," Lila said, her eyes shining with guilt.

"Easier? It's Diego we're talking about, Lila. You know how he can get."

"Yeah. But... you know how he'll get if he gets in on this. He'll jump to conclusions, and make rash decisions and everything. Don't you remember him during the 60s?"

They both shuddered involuntarily as Five nodded. "Alright. well, it's a good thing I never got married. Too much deception involved."

He took a bite of his scone, which got some cream on his mustache. Lila smiled with a sigh as she took a tissue in her hand and wiped it away. "Didn't dear old Reggie teach any of you Hargreeves men how to eat?"

He scoffed with irritation as he said, "Don't coddle me, I'm not a child."

"Yeah, well you surely eat like one," she retorted, balling up the tissue and leaning back.

Suddenly a woman slammed her hands down on the table, making them both jump as she glared at Five.

"Next time I call," she gritted through her teeth. "I expect you to pick up your phone, accept it and put the damn thing to your ear."

Five's eyebrows furrowed as he stared at her with confusion. "How'd you find out my location?"

The woman just stood up and stared at him, pulling up a chair to sit. Lila noticed she was pretty in an unconventional way, with a sugarplum balayage on her dark brown hair and stony grey eyes. Wearing brown bellbottom trousers with a tucked-in maroon shirt, sleeves reaching till just below her elbows, a beautiful vintage watch on her left wrist, and maroon kitten heels on her feet, she looked like a boss lady.

"Did you put a fucking tracker in my outfit?" Five asked indignantly.

"Do you think I had a choice?" she deadpanned, drumming her fingers on the table. "You don't accept my calls, half the time you don't even wanna talk to me."

"Because you're annoying, Clementine," Five declared heatedly.

She only sighed with a roll of her eyes, ignoring the comment. "Anyway, look, we need to talk."

Five took an angry bite of his scone, prompting Lila to throw a tissue at him with a disgusted look.

"Alone, Five," Clementine asserted.

"If it's about the Keepers, then I could help, y'know," Lila interjected. "I've been investigating them as well."

Clementine's eyes lit up as she turned towards her, crossing her arms on the table. "Really? What have you found out about them yet?"

"Oh, well, that it started in New Mexico and everyone's just flocking towards it like lemmings. Oh, also, the Cleanse," she said, mimicking Jean when she said the last word.

"The Cleanse? What's that?" she asked.

"No idea. But, Gene, one of the leaders, said that it's either the end, or a great restoration."

Clementine whipped out a small notepad, turning to a page and starting to scribble in as Five took in a breath, almost looking scandalized.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Don't tell me you're going to be reporting that to the deputy director."

"I have to give him something, Five," she said, focused on writing in her notebook before lifting her head to look at him. "Why? Are you ashamed that she, a civilian might know more than you, a goddamn CIA agent?"

"Oh, burn!" Lila exclaimed, laughing loudly. "Oh, I like you so much."

"Thanks! You're fun, too!" She exclaimed with bright cheerful grey eyes.

Lila stared at them with a kind of a knowing smile as they continued bickering. Her phone vibrated in her bag, and she took it out to see a text from Diego.

Hey, did book club end? You need a ride? I miss you🥺

She stared at the text with a tender smile before it faded, her eyes turning thoughtful and guilty. She got up, taking her small handbag with her, slinging it onto her shoulder.

"Well, you kids stay safe now," she said playfully, even though they didn't really hear her during their conversation.

Upon reaching home, she found Diego snoring on the couch in front of the TV, making her smile as she went to push some of his hair away from his forehead. She started going to her room to change when a hand caught onto her wrist, pulling her back.

She fell onto Diego's lap with a surprised gasp, her arm automatically going around his shoulders as her legs dangled off his thighs. He smiled sleepily as he gave her a peck on the nose, making her giggle as she gave him one on his lips.

"You should've gone to bed," she said softly, nuzzling her nose against his.

He hummed, his arms hugging her waist tighter, blinking the sleep away. "I can't sleep without you beside me, Lila. You know that."

She chuckled with a shake of her head, her other arm going to rest on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting."

"It's alright. I know you lose track of time during book club. How was it, by the way?"

She nodded with a shrug and said, "Not very informative. But it was fun."

Diego did feel a sting in his heart at the fact that she still wouldn't come clean to him about what she was doing, but he didn't budge on his trust. She'd earned it and so he was giving her the chance to tell him about her investigation when she wanted to.

He gave out a sudden yawn, making her chuckle again. "You can barely keep your eyes open, love. Go to bed. I'll join you after a shower."

"Hmm, can I join?" he asked with a playful smile, making her slap on his shoulder.

"Yes," she said and sauntered over to their room, making him jump up after her as he took off his shirt excitedly.

Simultaneously, a few blocks away, Luther stood in front of his apartment door with a blank look on his face, wanting to bang his head on it. In the time he knew Sloane, he'd memorized the places she went to. Even if Reginald reset the timeline, that wouldn't change.

He worked part-time in a cafe that Sloane usually visited to note down places that she'd visit if she got a chance to get out. All neat and noted. He still had it and usually carried it around with him.

Every evening after work, he worked in that place. Every fucking evening, he hoped that she'd come in, get in line and ask for a latte. But, it always just ended up killing all the hope inside him.

Suddenly, the door next to his apartment burst open, making him jump with a surprised grunt, as he looked to the side.

A guy exited, immediately looking at him with concern. "Oh, hey, sorry man, are you alright?"

"Yeah," Luther said, batting a dismissive hand. "It's alright, I'm alright."

The guy heaved a relieved sigh before giving him a smile. "I'm Christopher by the way, though, I mostly go by Chris."

Luther's eyebrows furrowed a little bit as the cube from Sparrow Academy, who had the same name, flashed in his mind, but he just ignored it and smiled back, not quite reaching his eyes.

"Who're you yapping with out there?" A very familiar voice said, making Luther perk up a bit.

And out the door, walked none other than Alphonso, Sparrow Number Four. Luther's eyes widened as he gave out a tiny gasp.

"Oh, hey. New neighbour?" Alphonso asked, looking at him.

"I... Uh. No. Not really," he said, composing himself. "I just don't get out much out of work, I guess."

"Well, ya should, man! Tell you what, we're going to a bar this weekend with some friends. Not too crowded either, if you don't like that kinda thing. You wanna come with?"

"Yeah," he said with a bright, hopeful smile. "I'd love to."

"Alright. Lookin' forward to it, man," Alphonso said with a friendly grin, before they both walked away, talking amongst themselves.

When Luther entered his apartment that night, he didn't sink to the floor with a blank despair. He sunk down with hopeful tears, and the sobs that wracked his body were happy ones.

And when he went to sleep that night, he knew it wasn't because he'd see dreams of living in a house with Sloane. He'd see dreams of meeting her in a bar. Of talking to her. Of getting to know what she's like in this timeline.

For the first time in six years, Luther Hargreeves went to bed with joy in his heart.

Another A/N: Ok, ik i'm speedrunning this shit, but I just need to write it all down cause the brellie in me is not letting me write anything else. So, here u go, two parts in one day lol. I'm prolly gonna start writing the next part too, so stay tuned!!

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Tysm for reading!!

[houseofhurricane]

Would you be down to writing anything Elucien

In the name of @sjmromanceweek, I wrote you some smutty Elucien, hope you like it!

Lucien winnows Elain to the Spring Court gardens with a smile on his face. Not the pleasant smile of a courtier or a High Lord’s son, but the smile of a wolf with a meal in view.

Elain’s corselet feels too tight for all the breath she requires.

“What business do you have to discuss with Tamlin?” she asks, though the manor is not even in view. Around them, lilacs bloom, and hyacinths, their scent heady.

“He doesn’t know we’re here,” Lucien says, leading her towards a stone bench. He hasn’t touched her since they emerged from the darkness, and Elain notices the absence, feels it in the clench of her thighs, the emptiness at her core.

She accepted the mating bond a month ago, and sometimes she wakes up in the night, her legs straddling Lucien, already kissing him. As if no hour can be survived without his touch.

He waves toward the bench with a flourish. “Sit,” he says, and then, when she obeys, he lavishes that wolf-grin on her again, and adds, “touch yourself.”

“I like it better when you touch me,” she protests, even as she lets herself fall against the stone.

“I know,” he says, looming over her, that rakish grin still on his lips. “And now I want to know how you survived all those years when you pretended I didn’t exist.”

“You know what I look like.” She reaches out towards him, aiming to brush her fingers against his cock, but he moves away before she can make contact. She can see the outline of it, hard beneath his fitted trousers. She feels the absence of him like a touch.

“Put your hand up your skirts.”

Instead, Elain reaches for the top button of her bodice. Because when she was alone in bed, in her first years in Prythian, lonely and aching, she took her pleasure slowly. Until she could forget who touched her.

She watches Lucien’s russet eye turn almost the same color as the whirring golden one as she undoes the placket of delicate buttons and pushes aside her corselet, so that her breasts are free. She circles them with her fingers, tracing the rosy skin around her nipple with the edge of her nail, until she can feel a pulse in her core.

“What if Tamlin finds us?” she asks, surprised by how breathless she is. How out of control already. She had meant to make him fuck her, hard and quick, but instead Lucien shakes her head.

“The High Lord of Spring has a meeting in the Autumn Court.” She wonders if he cannot say her name. If some primal jealousy controls him now, at the sight of her bared breasts, her pale skin gone rosy from the attentions of her fingers.

She arches her back. She forces him to look at her as she unfastens every button, removes her bodice and her corselet. Each garment falls to the ground with a sigh, until she only wears her skirts and petticoats. Half of her bare and half of her hidden by fabric.

When she looks at Lucien, his mouth is slightly open and his eyes are fixed on her body. On the place where, beneath her skirts, her sex feels molten, aching. Every movement of the air leaves an impression on her skin. Even the scent of the lilacs makes her want to moan.

Still, she does not move her hands to where she needs them.

“What did it feel like,” he asks, finally, “all those nights when you touched yourself to sleep and tried not to think of me?”

“Never as good as you inside me,” she answers. Spreading her legs wide. Biting her lip against the feeling of muslin against the inside of her thighs.

“Touch yourself, lady,” he says.

She bites her lip and braces herself, then springs. He lands on the grass below the lilac tree with Elain over him, her thighs bracketing his hips. Her sex over the bulge of his cock. The scent of his arousal mingling with the sweetness of the blossoms that surround them.

A part of her wants to linger inside this moment forever. And a part of her aches too much to wait.

“I have a better plan,” she tells him, and then she kisses him, her fingers on the buttons of his trousers.

In a second, with that grin on his lips, he lifts her skirts and then, a moment later, she feels his mouth on her sex.

“I tried not to think of you,” she says, even as his tongue moves across the seam of her, circling her clit. “I tried—”

“Don’t lie to me.” He growls the words and she arches against him, into his mouth, so that his teeth graze her and she cries out with startled pleasure.

Always she finds herself surprised that it could be this good, with him.

“Tell me who you thought of, then,” he says, when she doesn’t speak. His breath on her heated skin is enough to make her moan.

“I tried not to think of anything. And then I would dream of you, and you were—you were wicked and I never wanted you to stop.”

“What did I do?” he asks, before he uses his tongue again, reaching so that his thumb traces the curve of her breast.

Elain struggles to gain enough breath to speak.

“You bound me, sometimes,” she says, as he works her flesh with his mouth. She has never spoken of the dreams and fantasies to anybody, even in some locked and hidden room, but now she is too far gone to care about the depth of what she’s confessing to Lucien. “You used your teeth. You left me marked, so that I could not deny you were my mate.”

He bites the inside of her thigh and she yelps, reaching past the fabric of her skirts to twine her fingers in his hair. When she pulls, he lets out a groan. As if he likes this too, the marking and the pain amidst the pleasure. The reminder that they’re here inside these bodies, belonging to each other.

“You’re mine,” he says against her skin, and Elain comes on the words alone.

Darkness falls before they leave the garden. The scent of crushed flowers lingers on their skin for days.

[queenoffishingandcookies]

Funniest thought:

- Noctis’ wardrobe must look wild, at least if someone were to look in on his apartment.

- One one hand, you have the Crown Prince of Lucis’ clothing. Tailored suits and shirts and trousers, all of high quality cottons and linens and wools and silks and every other fabric under the sun (and/or skirts and dresses)

- Probably fancy dressing gowns and robes for baths/showers, more traditional robes and ‘older’ clothing choices, too.

- Most would still be at the citadel, but in case he has to dress and run for sudden meetings/emergencies, I can see Ignis (and his father. And the council, they would have to debate because it was a matter of security for the Crown Prince / Crown Princess) insisting he takes a wardrobe befitting of his status with him before trying to blend in (as much as is possible) with the citizenry of Insomnia.

- and then you have Noctis’ personal clothing.

- Fishing jackets, baseball caps, carbuncle onesies, and various pajama sets with cartoon-like wild animals or game related imagery printed on them (courtesy of Prompto).

- sweatpants, all of the sweatpants. Or dresses. Simple ones, not fancy or costly ones, kind of flowy like old clothing. Both are nice to just slide on when you’re having a rough day.

Kind of Sad Headcanon:

- This is more for Nocturne (Fem! Noct) but literally works the exact same for Noctis. There’s a reason her wardrobe is segregated between Crown Princess/Citadel and Nocturne.

- For all that her bedroom, study, are called the Princess’ private rooms at the citadel - they aren’t really that private.

- Whenever she’s at the citadel, maids attend to cleaning her room, rather than Ignis - Ignis, who she trusts implicitly not to spread rumors vs Maids that would, unintentionally or intentionally.

- depending exactly on how Lucian upper society works, she might even have ladies-in-waiting outside of the retinue (unless of course, that was originally the function of a Lucian Princess’s retinue…)

- Clothing she chose to wear, how clean and neat her room was, it would be scrutinized and spoken about at least once among the staff, and then somehow that would trickle on up to the nobles and the councils, and then that could lead to rumors of how the Crown Prince or Princess was slovenly, was lazy-

- Which in turn could spiral into worse rumors and gossip, lessening support and respect, for the future Queen (or King) among the noble class, and if it was sold to the press-

- When you’re royalty, everything about you is at risk of being tied to politics. A dirty room for a normal teenager would probably merit a scolding. A dirty room for the Crown Princess? Scandal.

- So at the Citadel, Nocturne’s clothing isn’t…it isn’t just hers. She still likes some of the dresses, the blouses and skirts and occasional set of pants - she was given the option of selecting the cut and style of them, after all.

- But there’s pressure on her that comes from picking out the right clothes to wear, the design, the cost - all because of the effect. There’s pressure on her to keep her room neat and clean, so much so that it’s hard to imagine she lives there - though sometimes she does slip (not to the extent she would at her apartment, at her home away from home that felt safer to just- )

- As a young child, it wasn’t so bad. People would often send her cute cartoon print pajamas as gifts, shirts with funny mottos, wildly patterned things that other kids her age seemed to like. There wasn’t much pressure, though she was still expected to be dressed ‘according to her station’.

- as she got older though, she was expected to grow out of it. Clothes she outgrew were often donated, put into the storage, etc. they were replaced with more ‘mature’ dressing gowns, and so on.

- When she moved out of the citadel for high school (fifteen to sixteen), a lot of that pressure was lifted off of her shoulders. Though, it took a few months for her to really just…relax in her own home-away-from-home.

- She didn’t have a lot of clothes, courtesy of every thing stated above. There were her uniforms for school, clearly upper class but trendy “common” clothing - but nothing silly, nothing ‘immature’ as the upper class would put it.

- Until Prompto got her a gift on her birthday, a cat onesies (because you’re always Noct out, having a cat nap). It was silly, and it was soft and warm - and Nocturne could wear it around her apartment without being scrutinized.

- It was nice. Overtime, on top of her more fancy clothes, she picks up…normal ones. As gifts, or going out shopping herself (or as much by herself as could be, she was probably being tailed by the crownsguard anyway).

- Nocturne always defaults to her ‘Princess’ clothes, though. Even in her apartment, before remembering ‘oh, I can wear this. No one will freak out over it’.

[factorydefaultlu]

A honey dark thought: but think about Aemond finally snapping. He loves his family, he does, but he’s tired of taking care of them. Mostly Aegon.

And yet, Aegon has been betrothed to a beautiful Lady. A lady that Aemond himself had his eyes on. Aemond is tired of Aegon getting what should be his so during his brother’s wedding feast he supplies his brother with cup after cup of wine. He waits for the lady to retire for the night and it only takes one more cup with a small dose of a potion to help his brother sleep for him to hide Aegon away until morning.

When Aemond enters the chambers of Aegon’s new lady wife’s he’s quick to blow out the one candle illuminating the room before she sees him. Before he blew it out he saw her beautiful soft night gown and her supple and soft body underneath it because it hid nothing.

He says nothing as he stalks over to her and turns her around. He can hear her breathing heavily, she’s nervous and it only makes him harder. He pushes her over the edge of the bed and spreads her legs to feel her wetness and thinks of how it’s for him and not for her husband. Not for Aegon. He bends down to taste her and one taste turns into devouring her. He doesn’t pull away from her until she’s crying in pleasure.

Finally he untucks himself from his trousers, and still without saying anything, he thrusts into her. He thinks to be gentle but she now belongs to Aegon and he wants to ruin her. It also doesn’t help that she’s whimpering and soaked as he ruts roughly into her.

She calls out for Aegon to slow down and not go so rough but at the mention of his brothers name, Aemond only growls and fucks her so hard the mattress is sliding off of the bed post and she’s so breathless that she can’t form words. When he spills his seed inside of her he’s never felt so satisfied.

When he pulls out of her, he quickly ticks himself back into his trousers and leaves before she can push herself back up onto unsteady and shaky legs.

Aemond comes to her every night. Making sure to slip a potion to put Aegon to sleep before he does so. He’s always rough, sometimes holding her by the back of the neck and pressing her face into the mattress as he pounds into her and sometimes he presses his entire body along her back, letting his weight hold her down as he fucks her.

She always whimpers for him to go easier on her. That he’s too big and that she needs time to adjust but Aemond refuses to care because she always cums on his cock.

Two moons after Aegon’s wedding to the lady, she announces her pregnancy and Aemond slyly smiles knowing it’s his babe in her. Aegon looks confused and goes with it. He thinks he was probably drunk when he bedded her.

That night, after her announcement, Aemond is still as rough but this time with one hand on her tit and the other on her stomach he whispers the truth to her. That she’s been taking his cock the entire time and that it is a bastard she carries and her husband’s brothers name she screams in pleasure every night.

- ☀️

Good soup

[bright-side-of-the-moon]

juniper!

i had like 3 highlighters on hand go away XD anyway this is my girl juniper, shes severely underrated and therefore my new favorite character in existence <3 this was my only reference lol

juniper berries *insert theyre the same picture meme*

right so, shortly after moving to camp (early 2004) hilal is still overwhelmed by it all and seeks comfort by taking long walks around camp. the beauty and stillness of nature grounds her and she needs all she can get in that department. its been a rough few months.

on one of her early morning walks shes deep in thought and doesnt notice a small depression in her usual path. she slips and falls on a jagged rock. no serious harm done but she does hurt her wrist quite badly.

juniper, a nymph who lives around these parts, happens to see the whole ordeal and is quick to offer assistance. hilal is very surprised to see anyone here at this time, much less... a green skinned lady about her age? she watches in silence as she uses leaves and sticks to make a splint of sorts.

after she recovers from her initial shock, she stammers her thanks at the makeshift cast and makes her way back to camp. the pain starts to kick in almost immediately and shes sent to the infirmary at once

she has a hairline fractured wrist which in and of itself isnt serious, but her CTS complicates things a little; a couple months prior hilal was involved in a serious car accident. the closed wound from her surgery had partially opened from her fall.

L: trenchcoat, black trousers and turtleneck and boots, mulberry hijab (not shown). R: post CT surgery brace, also black lol, left hand.

a couple days later when shes in a better headspace, she recounts to chiron what, rather who, shed seen on her walk. he informs her that she must have met a dryad, or wood nymph, and that they inhabit certain trees. the nymph living closest to camp was juniper. hilal confirms that the kind stranger had given her a little blue thing. a juniper berry she learns, which she keeps on her desk next to a pinecone, some acorns, and a few rocks shed collected.

*le timeskip*

some time later hilal gets back to work (as long as she takes breaks and doesnt put pressure on her healing wrist) and decides to go pay juniper a visit. she bakes a few things she thinks she might like and goes searching for a tree with the pretty blue things.

juniper is quite surprised as she seldom gets any guests, except perhaps for the satyr that visits her when he can. this strange mortal has even brought food with her! has she mistaken her for someone above her in rank? a goddess maybe? this was all very new to her. but the mortal was kind, too kind, and very understanding. she insisted that they were for her, a gift. and who was she to deny?

hilal made scones lol because its the only english thing she could think of, and makes a really great treat with some butter and jam. and a glass of cold milk? heaven. as well as other picnic-y stuff

the two have a small feast and part ways. she eventually indirectly helps grover and juniper get together and is honestly their biggest fan lol. she attends their wedding and visits them in new athens.

happy ending :)

[adelemadouce]

Tears and Raisins

The minute hand on the porcelain wall clock was already showing two minutes past nine! I crossed my arms in front of my breasts, because I wasn't wearing a shirt. Only my panthalons, I was still bleeding a little. I paced up and down in front of the clock in our little apartment in the Tuileries Palace. Two minutes past nine! I let my arms fall, my thimbles were hard and a little sore. Three...three minutes past! My curls bounced up and down with every step; my hair hadn't been done yet. Where was he? I continued to march up and down, cursing quietly, spread my fingers...four minutes!!! Four minutes past nine!!! "Where is he?" I growled. This disgusting feeling of impatience kept me walking up and down. Then...finally, the scratching. The scratching!!! I rushed to the door and let him in. He scurried past me, threw the shoes on the floor and onto my foot... Ouch! "Where have you been? You keep me waiting...five minutes! You keep me in suspense for so long...I'm worried! You're just too late! I'm worried...and at the same time die of impatience! I'm waiting...and... wanting to finally have something in my mouth!...but you're late!" The Emperor left me babbling, he passed me and threw himself on the narrow bed. He was only half dressed, and the buttons of his trousers had been open before he entered. He lies on the bed, his arms spread out like Jesus on the cross, grinning. And I finally get what I want so much!

Later, I sat with Nini and Félicité in the Empress's little salon. Aunt Joséphine was having breakfast with the powder puffs and Madame Rémusat. I played a game of thread with Nini. We waited for Églée, Aimée and the other young ladies. Some were late, which didn't bother the Empress, but which Madame de La Rochefoucauld simply found disrespectful. The little shriveled fury could become very evil! Madame d'Arberg was completely different. She was always friendly and explained to us the correct behavior of a lady-in-waiting. She sought our trust and gained it because of her kindness. When all the ladies were finally present, we quickly powdered our noses, put on our gloves and waited for Her Majesty. But instead Madame d'Arberg came. "Mes dames, I would like to tell you that the Empress is suffering from a little melancholy. The Empress was crying this morning... please, try not to appear too cheerful! Be gentle in your gestures, speak softly, give her your gentleness, ladies, that will calm her down and give her a sense of security!" We curtsied slightly, showing our obedience. When Madame d'Arberg had left, Églée said quietly to me: "I know why she's crying... the Emperor is in the rut again! He was seen with an Amazone in the Bois yesterday...and the family dinner was therefore delayed. The whole family had to wait two hours for him...just imagine!!" I acted surprised, but was trembling a little. I looked at Nini, who was hanging on Églée's every word. "Does the Emperor have a fever?" she asked innocently. Nini was very childlike.

She had been abandoned by her father and grew up with an impoverished relative in the country. Her mother had died and the poor child had barely been educated. Now she was with Madame Campan, but as a member of the imperial family she was enjoying an extended holiday. We all loved Nini. I took her in my arms. "The Emperor is not ill...he's just a little too...lively...for the Empress at the moment. That's why she's crying a little. But she'll be happy again soon!" Églée looked at me in admiration. "How wonderfully you can explain things, Adèle! You should be the wife of a diplomat," she leaned close to my ear, "...or to the handsome Sigismond!" I looked at her wide-eyed. "Because I danced with him, good God!" Then she whispered to me. "... take him, Adèle, he's just right for you! A blond stallion between your thighs!"

The door opened and Aunt Joséphine appeared. Accompanied by the powder puffs, Madame d'Arberg and Émilie Lavalette, the Empress greeted each of us. Joséphine was pale, her dark eyes shone like wet coal, she wore pearls in her hair. Pearls mean tears! With her angelic smile, one could only feel pity for her, but alas! I did not feel sorry for her at all. My feelings for Aunt Joséphine had changed. Of course I still loved her, but I found her behavior exaggerated and I would have liked her to have been more self-confident. Asking for sympathy when it wasn't appropriate just wasn't my thing. That’s why I enjoyed the moment when the Empress smiled at me and I could still taste the salty-sweet taste of her husband's beautiful penis on my lips!

We had another boring day ahead of us. It only became more lively when Madame Brisée came back from walking the pugs. While the little fat dogs were jumping happily around the feet of their mistress Joséphine, the red-cheeked, stocky Brisée told from the candy vendors on the bridge. "There are the most wonderful things to buy there..."she said as she chewed on the candy. "...Christmas is just around the corner, people want sweets!" Nini shot forward. "We want something too!" She clapped her hands together and jumped up and down. "Please, Aunt Joséphine...please, please!" And of course Madame de La Rochefoucauld thundered: "Mademoiselle de Beauharnais... will you be quiet!" Églée stood next to me and whispered: "It's a pity that Fouquier Tinville didn't catch the little crow back then..." The Empress gave in. "Of course, you shall have something! Émilie will go with Nini and buy sweets for all of us!" Nini was still jumping for joy and I saw my chance. "May I go too, Your Majesty?" And Nini called out while the spider eyes of Madame de La Rochefoucauld pierced her, "...yes, yes,...Adèle...Adèle!" The Empress nodded. We curtsied to her and left the salon. It was very cold outside, an icy wind whistled from the east. The three of us, wearing our coats, fur bonnets and overshoes, stepped out into the courtyard of the Tuileries. The cobblestones were slippery and we had to be careful. The sun shone white from a deep blue sky. The three of us were walking towards the Pavillion de Marsan, when suddenly a window burst open above us and a male voice yelled: "Heyyy...where are you three beauties going?" It was the Emperor! Émilie and I curtsied immediately. Nini did not. "We're buying sweets...on the bridge, Uncle! Sweets!" She licked her lips and actually showed him a long nose! Nini was really still very childish. "Then bring me something too!" yelled the Emperor. "Yes, Sire...we bring you some sweets!" I answered in a gentle voice and looked up at him with a smile, while Émilie scolded the girl, telling her not to talk to the Emperor like that. I continued to look up at him while he stared down at me. Our eyes touched...our eyes kissed... loved... Then I heard Émilie: "Adèle, are you coming?" I took a step back, towards her, but still looked up at the Emperor. Émilie took my arm. "Are you coming?" I looked at her, she looked up to the Emperor, then back at me. "Come now!"

The Pont de Tuileries was full of people! The crowd thronged the sidewalk in front of countless small stalls selling sweets, toys, jewelry, clothing and kitchen utensils. It was like a small fair. Barrel organ music was played and the air smelled of all kinds of delicacies. I strolled through the crowd of people on Émilie's arm. With Nini by my hand, I heard Émilie pouring out her heart to me. "It's really difficult being the Empress's wardrobe lady! I don't know anything about these things. You could have filled that position much better for her!" I quickly shook my head. "God forbid, no!" We bought several bags of roasted almonds, candied apple rings, sugared jelly plums. "The Empress loves your style of dress! She says if she were a simple lady she would do it just like you!" We bought hot waffles with cinnamon and stuffed our mouths full. "Joséphine is a little jealous of you!" said Émilie with her mouth full. "Why?" She chewed, and said after swallowing everything: "...about Sigismond!" She rolled her eyes. "... the Empress has a bit of a crush on him, you know." I laughed, and some powdered sugar flew out of my mouth. "I only danced with him...you can reassure her, I have no intentions towards him!" Nini wanted to look at the jewelry, we stopped and wiped our mouths. "And Eugène? His eyes always soften when he sees you. The Empress knows it!" I looked at Émilie seriously. "Eugène always has soft eyes! He may have a crush on me, but he is not courting me. I am a married woman with two small children! Eugène can really expect better from life than someone like me!" We bought glass bead necklaces in mother-of-pearl colors, small silver fingerrings and créole earrings. I asked Nini to count everything so that each lady got a present. "Not Eugène, not Sigismond, who is it then, Adèle? The Empress thinks you are in love. Because you're always dreaming...and sometimes you smile strangely." Émilie shrugged her shoulders to appear innocent. But I could tell that she was trying to sound me out. "You can tell me, Adèle, there is nothing wrong with that, it's alright to be in love!" I looked at Émilie. She was the least pretty girl at court. Her blonde hair was straight and dull, the ends brittle, her skin was blemished, she used too much powder to conceal it, she had no grace or charme. Still, I liked Émilie. She was a good friend, gentle and sincere. It was easy to abuse her, but using her as a spy was too stupid, because she had no talent for hiding it. "If I fall in love, Émilie...you'll be the first to know!" I said with all my conviction. I put my arm around her waist, pulled Nini to my hand and together we strolled back to the palace.

When we got there, I sent Émilie to the Empress. "I'm going up to the Emperor with Nini, we're bringing him his sweets." She agreed. Nini and I ran up the marble steps of the wide palace staircase. On the first floor we were met by a chamberlain, who took us to another chamberlain, and then a third came. Apparently they knew about us. Then a secretary dressed in black came, but he disappeared again. We stayed behind in an antechamber. After a moment the door opened and the Emperor appeared. I sank into a court curtsy, as did Nini. "Ahh, my sweets!" The Emperor approached Nini, she opened a large paper bag and held it under his nose. He laughed. He turned and pointed with his hand to the salon at the end of a corridor. "Take the bag to Monsieur Méneval, he should put the sweets in the box. But don't let him eat them all up! Tell him that, Nini, go...!" The girl nodded. She hadn't even taken a step when the Emperor put his hand on my neck and as soon as she was gone he pushed me behind the door, pressed me against the wall and started to kiss me. We only had a few seconds, perhaps, someone could come at any moment! "Grab it!" he whispered between his teeth. And I grabbed it! He groaned slightly. When I saw his open mouth, I was so aroused that I immediately had to stick my tongue in. A few seconds later he let go of me because Nini appeared behind him again. My lips were wet with his saliva, I quickly licked them dry. "Tell the Empress my thanks," he pinched Nini's earlobe. As she left the room before me, I cast another longing look at my Emperor.

.

[rumbelleshowdown]

Author: Squizzel

Prompts: Stroking hair to soothe. “Take me with you.” Baking.

Group: B

-

Weakness

“Come back to bed.”  

Gold smiled over his shoulder at Lacey’s sleepy voice.  She was gloriously naked, wrapped up in his covers, looking like temptation personified.   

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He turned to face her, pulling on his jacket.  “Delightful as that sounds, I do have to open the shop today.”

“Take me with you, then.  It’ll be fun.” 

“I doubt that.  There’s nothing for you to do there.”

“Well, that’s not true.”  Lacey eyed his trousers pointedly.  “You’ll be there.”  

“Touche,” Gold smiled, leaning forward to give her a quick kiss, pulling back before she could deepen it further. “But then I would definitely get no work done.”

“Spoilsport.”  Lacey smirked.  “Fine, go work.  I’ll see you later.”

~*~

Gold’s morning passed slowly and he found himself regretting not following Lacey’s suggestions.  The sound of the bell above the door gave him hope that she had ignored his words and decided to visit after all, so he pushed through the curtain with a smile that died as soon as he saw the figure on the other side.  

“Mrs Mills.”  Planting his cane between his feet he waited for her to turn towards him.  “What an unexpected displeasure.  I thought I made it clear that you’re not welcome here.” 

“Put the knives away, Gold.  I’m here because I have a business proposition for you.”  Cora indicated the file in her hand.  When he made no move to take it, she walked forward and held it out to him.  “I think you might find it interesting.”

He waited a few seconds before slowly reaching out to take the folder, flipping it open to peruse the contents.  As he recognised the papers he frowned, glancing up at her.  “This is exactly the same proposition I turned down last time.”

“I know, but I thought you might have a change of heart.”

“And why on earth would you think that?”

“Because last time you didn’t have a weakness.”  She must have seen the confusion on his face as she continued, “I still have my sources in town and they tell me that you’ve got yourself a little girlfriend.”

Gold felt his jaw clench.  “What does she have to do with this?”

“She’s quite the beauty from what I hear.  Young, too.  Makes me wonder what she’s doing with… well, someone like you.”  Cora’s eyes trailed over his body in a way that clearly indicated she found him lacking, before she leaned forward as if sharing in a secret.  “It’s the money, isn’t it?”  

Gold took an involuntary step back. “That’s none of your business.”

“Perhaps.  But I’m sure you remember my business partner, Killian Jones.  He’s been feeling lonely lately and would love to meet a beautiful young woman like that.”

In less than a second Gold’s cane was in his hand, ready to strike.  “If you so much as think about hurting her…”

“Oh, don’t be so crass,”  Cora laughed, pushing his cane back towards him.  “I’m suggesting no such thing.  But Killian is young, handsome, and, thanks to our recent business ventures, rather rich as well.  Given the choice, who do you think your young lady would prefer?”

Gold scowled.  “What exactly is it that you’re suggesting?”

“Sign the proposal and I’ll tell Killian that your girl is off-limits.  Or don’t and see how long it takes this one to leave you for a better option.”  

“Get.  Out.”  Gold snarled.   

“Your loss.  Do let me know if you change your mind.”

~*~

Gold was in a foul mood when he returned home, Cora’s words still whirling in his head.  He tried not to lend them credence, but she’d always been a master at nailing his insecurities.

Opening his front door the first thing he noticed was an enticing smell emanating from the kitchen, where he found Lacey pulling a tray of cupcakes from the oven.  She was an incongruous mix of sexy and ridiculous, clad only in one of his shirts and the novelty lobster apron she’d insisted on buying during their trip to Portland.  

“Hey!  Welcome home!”  Lacey beamed when she saw him, skipping over to greet him with a kiss before pulling back in worry.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”  He stepped back.  “Are you baking?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d try rum cupcakes this time.  Rum for my Rum”  She leaned into him playfully and he smiled weakly at the nickname.  “Oh, come on.  Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.”  He tried to move away but she was quicker, grabbing his arm. 

“No, you’re not.  Come here.”  She directed him to take a seat on the large couch before settling beside him and pulling his head down to her shoulder.  “I can always tell when you’re tense.  Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“All right.”  She reached up and began running her fingers through his hair.  He closed his eyes despite himself.  She really was very good at that.  “But I’m here if you want to tell me.  Or I could give you the best blowjob of your life.  I hear that’s a very good stress-reliever.”

“Hmm.”  Gold hummed, feeling himself relaxing at her words.  Somehow she always managed to make him feel better.  He was still getting used to having someone who genuinely cared about him.      

Gold sat up suddenly, turning to Lacey who looked at him expectantly, her hand still in the air where his head had been.

“Actually, there is something…”

~*~

Since becoming a couple Gold had far less incentive to visit The Rabbit Hole on non-rent days.  Lacey still enjoyed going out for drinks with her friends, but he rarely joined her.  

This evening was different though.  Lacey had said he shouldn’t come, but he couldn’t help himself.  He knew Killian Jones would be about and had to see for himself what was going to happen.  

He found a spot in the corner where he could just about make out the table where Lacey’s group sat.

It wasn’t long before Jones joined them, zeroing in on Lacey.  Gold could tell from their body language that they were flirting and he gripped his table to prevent himself from stalking over and staking his claim.  

Jones was showing her something on his phone.  Lacey’s face flickered in surprise before she smiled and reached out, taking the device from his hand.  He seemed only too happy to allow her free rein to swipe through as much as she wanted, preening like a peacock every time she looked up and made a comment.

After a while she handed the device back to him with a beaming grin and Gold realised he’d had enough.  Slipping out the back, he returned to his house.  He’d see what Lacey had to say when she got home.

~*~

Cora’s visit the next morning came as no surprise.  Gold expected her to be keen to press her advantage.

“Mr Gold.”  Her smile was predatory and Gold forced himself to keep an even expression.  “My associate tells me he had a very enjoyable evening last night.  Apparently he and your girl hit it off extremely well.  So I was wondering, have you given any more thought to my proposal?”

“As a matter of fact, I have.”  Gold held out the folder, which Cora took with satisfaction.

“I knew you’d see it my way.”  She opened the cover and Gold enjoyed the way her expression shifted from victory to confusion.  “What’s this?  Where did you get it?”

“That, dearie, is what is commonly known as blackmail material.  And as for where I got it.  Lacey?”

Lacey emerged from the curtain.  She sidled up to him, wrapping her arm around his waist, before addressing Cora.  

“Turns out your business partner isn’t too bright. He showed me a dick pic about two seconds after meeting me and was only too happy to let me have his phone when I said I wanted to see the rest.  Genius doesn’t even protect his work email with biometrics.”

Gold smiled at the look on Cora’s face.  “It’s all right.  I have no idea what that means either.  But the pertinent thing is we now have copies of his recent messages and they do not paint either of you in a good, or indeed legal, light.”

Cora was apparently struck speechless, so Gold continued, relishing his victory.  “If it makes you feel better, your manipulations almost worked until I remembered one important detail.  You called Lacey my weakness, but she’s not.  She makes me stronger.  Once I remembered that, I told her everything you said to me.  She wasn’t too happy about it.”

“Only with him for his money?  That’s ridiculous!”  Lacey sounded just as outraged as she had when she first heard it.  “Clearly you’ve never seen his penis.”

“Lacey,”  Gold admonished softly. 

“What?  It’s a very nice penis.”  Her smile turned wicked as she pulled him closer.  “In fact, I’d like to get reacquainted with it right now.  Goodbye Mrs Mills, don’t let the door hit your arse on the way out!”

-

[gioven2201]

Shepard of Fire: ♠️ 𝙸𝙸

Amaryllis jolts from her slumber to the sound of what appears to be a youthful gentleman shouting at the top of his lungs. The blonde woman also recognizes the raging migraine pounding in her skull and massages her temples to alleviate it the best she can. She speculates that a few hours of consistent sleep is all she has, but it could be better. Her body still aches from running, fighting, hiding, and resting against a rock; she has difficulty believing she managed that. She cannot tell if she is hungry because the thought of food makes her nauseous, but something to drink would not hurt.

Gradually, getting up from her resting position, she reties the cloth around her waist and picks up her grimoire to put it back in its initial resting spot within the fabric. She unfurls her cloak and shakes it off to get rid of the dirt it accumulated while on the ground. Carefully, while trying not to wince in pain with each step, she peeks from behind the stone to see the boy making the racket, rolling her eyes to see it is a child. She is astonished to see a young boy almost half her age and more astonished by what magic he does not possess. Plus, the fact he is doing pushups with one hand, too.

Amaryllis sees a young man of short stature with messy, ash blond hair with bangs in front of his forehead and a single strand going upwards from the middle of his head and keeping it together with a black headband, which has a red-colored four-pointed star with three stitches on the back of it. He wears a basic white tunic with a V-shape collar beneath a dark blue jacket with sleeves extending only to his elbows, and he sports matching shorts with stitch patterns on the left side. His trousers also stretch slightly below his kneecaps, and his shoes appear made out of two different fabrics from where she stands, with portions covering his ankles, and the soles are the same color as his jacket and pants. The details surrounding his toes are white, with a vertical stitch mark from the bridge to his toes.

Amaryllis tries her best to get away to keep up with her traveling, but she barely does that as she trips over her own feet and falls yet again, causing a loud bang as her body hits the floor, but this time, her bandaged midriff lands directly on a rock. She lets out a shaky breath as she lies face down in the dirt, her body too sore to get herself up. She does not hear the young boy call out to her. If anything, she is mad at herself for letting this happen again, but this time, someone else now knows of her existence. Now, knowing she exists to someone, who knows what will happen from now on?

"Hey, lady," the young boy asks, "you OK?"

Amaryllis knows she can try and give up or pretend she is dead. The second one sounds like a great option, but she is betting the young boy witnessed her. She tries to get up, but her body refuses, telling her she needs to continue resting. She hears the footsteps of the young child reaching her and internally panics because of the bandages on her body she practically forgot existed. She could feel his presence mere inches away and accepted her fate, skeptical of what he would do next.

"Hey, my name's Asta. I won't hurt you," he says to her, "but can you hear me? Are you hurt?"

She moves her head to the side to take a glimpse at the young boy talking to her and sees a pair of the liveliest, most caring green eyes she has ever seen. Concern paints his face like a canvas, and seeing how much care he has for a stranger like herself makes her chest ache. She continues trying to get up, and the young boy uses one of his arms to help her up, but he positions it strictly at her midriff, where one of her bandages is. She grits her teeth and hisses in pain, the feeling sharp like a dagger digging into her flesh. His left hand touches that area, and he feels something damp against her clothing: she is bleeding and has no idea why.

"Please..." was all Amaryllis could rasp.

The young boy nods and does not say a word by gently moving her weakened body onto her back and picking her up carefully. He carries her in his arms, and her entire body weight leans against him as something to cling to. Sweat slowly breaks on her forehead and brow as the excruciating pain builds up in her stomach region, having a feeling that is also where the internal bleeding must be taking place. She feels sick and weak and can barely open her eyes.

Asta makes his way toward the village and greets all the villagers he passes by as they look at him and the woman he carries, watching the scene before them. They all ask what is going on, but he can only say that he is unsure right now because his main focus is getting the blonde woman to the church for the others to help her. Out of everything to happen in the quiet village, this has to be one of the most intriguing things imaginable. He tries his best to be quick and careful not to disturb or hurt the woman in his arms while having no idea what her story is, where she came from, or why she was hiding. Getting her to safety is the only thing he wants to do, and he knows exactly where to go.

"We'll take care of you," Asta declares, "I promise."

Amaryllis barely opens her eyes to see a small building with a few people outside, cleaning, talking, and playing, not even noticing the two of them. With her vision blurry, she can barely make out a nun, a tall yet slender boy with raven hair (who looks strangely familiar to her and does not know why), and a few children of different ages playing. "This must be where he lives," she thought.

"SISTER LILY!” Asta calls out when he finally reaches the church and gets Sister Lily's attention. “LOOK!”

Sister Lily looks at Asta and instantly detects the woman he carries, dropping whatever she is doing to run toward Asta. The raven-haired woman gently touches the blonde's forehead with the back of her hand, feeling her clammy and burning skin.

"Asta," Sister Lily questions, "where did you find her?"

"I was training when I found her lying in the dirt," Asta confesses. "Look, she needs help. She's badly injured."

Sister Lily looks at the golden-blonde woman's abdomen, gasping at the sight of tiny amounts of blood seeping through the tunic. "Yuno," Sister Lily tells the other young boy, "take the children someplace else. I don't want them seeing this. Asta," the raven-haired woman instructs the ash-blond male, "tell Father Orsi what's going on. Please take her inside and lay her down on one of the beds. I'll get some medical help."

Asta nods and quickly takes her through the church doors, where he sees Father Orsi already a step ahead of the ash-blond male who most likely overheard what Sister Lily said. The silver-haired male helps Asta with the woman in his arms by carefully laying her on the bed, and the two of them wait for the doctor's arrival.

~♣️♠️~

A few days pass, and everyone within the church patiently waits for Amaryllis to awaken. While aiding her wounds, the village doctor brought to Father Orsi's and Sister Lily's attention her grimoire, letting them know she is not from around here but from the Spade Kingdom. They both wonder what she is doing and why she decided to travel, but they are more concerned about her well-being once they learn about the bandages on other places of her body. Since Asta never got her name, everyone else did not know what they should call her, but one of the little ones in the orphanage thought to call the woman "Goldie" because of her hair color. So, whenever they talk about her, they refer to the woman as that.

Today, like clockwork, Sister Lily does her routine to check in on the golden-blonde woman to swap out the dried-out cloth for a cold, freshly damp one for her forehead after each meal. She says a prayer, hoping for the sleeping woman to wake up soon and for her injuries to heal quickly. After her prayer, she exits the room to begin all the chores requiring some work depending on the time of day, knowing the children will be willing to help her or head to bed if it is dusk.

As a few hours pass since the last time Sister Lily placed a cloth on her forehead, Amaryllis stirs a bit from her slumber before opening her eyes to barely make out the ceiling above, letting her know it is nighttime. The golden-haired woman wonders how she got here but then recalls the young boy aiding her by carrying her weak body to the building she is in. Gradually, getting out of bed, Amaryllis's bare feet hit the chilly wooden floor, the feeling foreign to her because all the golden-haired woman had known for years was hard stone floors. Her body, now wearing a white cotton tank top and shorts, still aches throughout, but the dressings on her body are refreshed and sterile, plus better than the ones she used to have.

She tries her best to utilize everything in that room to sustain her, hoping she does not stumble down somewhere again in the dark as she looks for her possessions. She does not know this tiny place at all and wishes she had tried to do some research before escaping carelessly. Nevertheless, doing it this way would be adequate so she can investigate more things on foot and discover more as she goes on. Of course, she is not worried about healing properly before continuing her grand adventure in unfamiliar territory. She can do that once she is much more familiar with the area. She does not know what lurks out here; all she has is herself.

Amaryllis's eyes eventually adjust to the darkened room, and she finally sees her grimoire on a dresser on the other side of the small space. Yet, she sees it in a brand new burgundy-colored grimoire holder, and on top of it is a note, saying, "to keep it safe," in beautiful handwriting. She takes her grimoire out of the carrier, opens the hardbound, places the note on top of the first page, and closes it before putting it back into the pouch. She almost did not recognize her cloak and her original change of clothes, freshly cleaned and neatly folded to the right of it. She picks the clothes she wore here over the tank top and shorts, picks the manteau off the dresser, and notices it is untattered, unlike when she arrived here. She slips that on, finds her old boots next to her bare feet, and slips on the worn-down articles of attire, for they have seen better days.

She quietly opens the bedroom door and slowly shuffles down the hallway leading to the front door, trying her best not to make a sound. She discovers while walking that this place is a church and an orphanage. It is a small yet quaint building with enough room for everyone to enjoy their lives, even if they must share a bed or two. It seems peaceful here, and she would love to have the kind of life away from everyone else if she was not a fugitive on the run, a high-ranking noble, or someone with so much baggage to carry. Laying low out here would be a more reasonable idea to keep her off everyone's radar, but she has no desire to make friends or vegetate somewhere.

She reaches the front door, peacefully opens it despite its few creaks, and absorbs the beautiful night sky with millions of stars and the lush verdant grass stretching for miles. She notices how peaceful it is here, and no one is awake, making her getaway easier. She shuffles along the dirt trail to head out and away from the church, not wanting to bug everyone with her issues and injuries. However, as she makes it a few feet from the building, a young boy calls out, calling her "Goldie," getting her attention.

Amaryllis turns around and sees Asta rushing to her, wearing a white tunic and the pair of trousers he had on when they first met. Astonishment paints his emerald green eyes as he tries to figure out how she is moving regardless of her state and why she is departing so late so soon. He awoke to the sound of footsteps, which only captured his attention because he knew the visitor he found outdoors was still in the building and worried about her well-being like everyone else.

"Why are you leaving so soon?" Asta asks her. "Don't you want to heal a bit more?"

Amaryllis shakes her head and uses her fingers to tap her throat, hoping it lets him know she cannot speak, or she needs water. Her voice barely exists for several reasons, but most of it is due to the climate changes she endured recently.

"Here," Asta says, "let me get you some water."

The ash-blond male runs and grabs some water for the golden-blonde female. She takes the cup from his hands, curtly nods a 'thank you,' and drinks the water out of desperation, needing it more than anything. She pivots to the side to conceal her mouth and coughs hard, attempting to clear her throat. The taste of blood vanished, and the taste of bile remains, but not as potent as when she first got sick. The taste is unsettling, and she understands ingesting something might help, but she does not feel famished and has not been for a few days.

Amaryllis passes the cup back to Asta, who sits it on top of one of the fence posts before bringing his attention to the golden-haired woman. She kneels and has a stick in her right hand, penning something in the soil for Asta to read. He kneels next to her, where Amaryllis uses an ounce of her fire magic to construct a little firey orb forming in her other palm so the ash-blond male can read what she wrote.

'I want to thank you for helping me,' she wrote.

"It was no big deal," Asta brushes the compliment off, "but everyone else was worried about you. Kinda thought you'd stick around to say your goodbyes, but I don't know what you're really up to."

'As much as I would like to,' Amaryllis pens, 'I don't want to cause you all much trouble.'

"Huh," Asta wonders, "why would you say that?"

Amaryllis's hand wavers on what to write out next because there are two choices she can assemble: tell the young boy about her troubles or beat around the bush for both of their security. She makes up her mind quickly and pens, 'I have been through a lot for many years, and I do not want to drag you guys into that.'

Asta nods, not apprehending what the golden-haired woman indicates by that, but does not want to implore too much information from her.

"Can I at least get your name," Asta asks her.

Amaryllis smiles and spells out her name, but also a little nickname he can call her, 'Ryllis,' which is one of the most natural things she can do for herself. 'Look,' Amaryllis continues writing, 'I need to go, but thank you so much again.'

Asta and Amaryllis stand up from the kneeling position, and before they move on their separate ways, the golden-haired woman gives the ash-blond male a big hug, startling the latter. She pulls away from the hug and continues her journey, unsure where the route will be leading her but wishing there is someone, or something, out there for her.

[unseelie-robynx]

I know the answers here probably won’t be as deep as they where with the ask about the little brothers au but how would our Stepford Oblivion wives react to their clothing if they could theoretically be completely snapped out of it at some point?

So funnily enough, this is a question that had a canonical answer to it, at least for some of these wives. Because both Red Son and Huntsman did wake up, at different points. (And Shuyin went into this wide awake so she is happy to be dressed up however will make her ‘Lady’ happiest)

So when Red Son woke up, if we’re focusing solely on physical changes and not the whole, ‘oh shit I’ve been brainwashed and was forced to brainwashes someone else to keep my brainwashing intact’, then Red Son was actually mostly freaked out about his hair more than his clothes at first. Red’s hair in these AU’s is long. At first because Xiaotian didn’t think to cut it, and then because he liked being able to drag Red around by it, and then as a Wife because it was soft and pretty and both Red and Xiaotian enjoy it when Xiaotian brushes it out. But it was a big change and an indicator of how much time had passed, which got to Red.

Outfit-wise, Red is kept in slightly more traditional things, so that freak-out took a back seat to other things (freaking out about brainwashing, confronting Porty2.0 about said brainwashing)  but honestly wasn’t that bad. Red lived through the ear when ‘trousers’ were exclusively for those who rode horses, and, well...

Xiaotian liked him looking like this. Looking soft and lovely.

And by that point, even if there was brainwashing involved, Red did love Xiaotian.

(Which is what, coupled with his addiction and painful withdrawal symptoms, ultimately led to him asking to be put back down and turned back into ‘Wife’)

Now Huntsman? Huntsman BURNS the stuff he was put into. He hates it. It’s impractical and constricting and hard to move in, it’s overly cutesy and ridiculous looking, and it wasn’t even something Sandy liked. When he gets ‘rescued’ but is still technically brainwashed, he refuses to put on any of his old clothes, but ripping the dress off is one of the first things he does when he finally goes lucid (Right after he finishes flipping out about SQ re-dosing Syntax with more venom and wiping his memories)

For him the outfit is nothing but a sign of oppression, of how the psychotic child with the god complex reached into his head and tried to smother everything that was him and put a painted doll in its place.

Although interestingly, while he was able to fix his clothes, he still has panic attacks over trying to cut his hair, which ‘Shifu’ Red was forcing him to grow out to ‘fit the mold’ of what a Good Wife should look like.

Syntax waking up I think could be interesting. If it’s the Bad End where he’s constantly being hurt, the first thing he would be doing is scrambling to get the corset undone so he could breathe and not be in pain from his implants, but after that it would probably be a systematic shredding of the victorian gown he was in (possibly with said implants/mech-limbs if the pain isn’t to much or maybe in spite of it. He does end up with a terrifying pain tolerance in this ending just for the satisfaction of destroying the thing used to hide him with what they were trying to hide)

If it’s the Red Awakens ending, and things are softer for him, he’s still going to want to get out of that thing, but he’ll probably wait until he has something else to put on first, instead of wandering around in bloomers and nothing else like in the Bad End.

In the Bad End the outfit is designed as a constant punishment so getting out and destroying it is symbolic of breaking free and never deserving it a little bit, but in the Red Awakens end it’s more about keeping him sedentary and then matching with Huntsman. It’s still a symbol of oppression and having his identity stripped away, but there’s less of a visceral violent reaction.

Spindrax, if we’re counting her, could be interesting as well. In the Bad End she gets CyberPunked, which she would probably wake up with mixed feelings to. It’s not that much different than the things she normally wears (if more floofy and with lots of neon green) but it’s not... not bad. But also the being brainwashed ruins it, but since it’s similar to her actual stuff, she probably has a hard time with her normal clothes for a while, and either has to change her actual wardrobe up, or deal with a lot of triggers to try and fight through to claim her own style back.

(In any sort of potential Red Awakens Spindrax, if her outfit gets changed to that sort of gauzy dancer gear when she becomes a decorative pet, it’s only because she’s so broken that breaking her more isn’t possible and so Xiaojiao got bored of trying, and at that point, I’m not sure Spindrax could ‘wake up'. I’m not sure there’d be anything left to wake up)

[ihateclaws]

Last night I had a dream where there’s a place the spiritual beings live, and they bless people, all of us, equally. I was in the dream as 22 years old pre-war Eiden (who would have thought; everyone was he/they -ing me though. It was a bless). A few of us know about the place, and our blessings are more obvious.

It isn’t a perfect world; people struggle from time to time, but it is relatively peaceful. Then some rich assholes find out about the place, and, being rich assholes as they are, they want in.

You can’t get in that place, not without the balance between worlds being completely thrown off, but they don’t care. The few of us begged and begged; they don’t care, and they rush in.

As a result, the Spirits have to put all people into trial worlds randomly. Only some people can get through this; you need to find and carry a card to guarantee your place in the new world, and if you die, you die.

I’m among the last ones to be put into the trial because I stayed and begged people not to enter, and because of that, I have a basic guarantee card with me at the beginning. The first note I make as I step through the door is that the starting point looks awfully like my college common room, and there’s a crate of snacks and a few plastic bags at one corner.

I run to the pool table and grab a cue to be a starter weapon, then goes to the food crate to put in some snacks that look vaguely nutritious. That’s when another person comes in. We stare at each other, alarmed; it’s a girl, short, Asian, quite cute if I wasn’t freaking out.

“You have a backpack,” I say. I have nothing other than my shirt and trousers.

By the look of it, it’s empty, and she also have a tote bag. She sighs, and look at the cue in my hand, then the crate, and sighs again.

“Partner up?” She offers.

“Okay.”

“Partner up it is,” she says.

—

She’s the same age as me, and she does chemistry. We change infos during the trip. I never told her about my card, but when we find one, I suggest she keeps it.

“We’ll find another one,” I says, “and if we don’t, say, in a month, I can stab you in the back then.”

The trial world is like a open world video game, to be honest. You don’t have to walk too long before the scenery changes dramatically, and there’re wild animals and monsters as well as cruel people. We still don’t have much weapon, and it’s pure luck we can survive this long.

Then one time we split looking for food, she is murdered. I see her being stabbed to death just as I come back; there’s nothing I could do about it, so I hide, then follow the group.

It’s three people, and I’m sure they have way more than three cards. It’s currency, really. I figure if they stay on the road, they’ll run into trouble sooner or later.

They do. They fight with a group of four and they win, barely. Only one of them is alive, bloody and bruised. I knock her out from behind and stick my cue into her eyes, and take all the cards I can find. She has a nice dagger, silver, elegant, and a comfortable grip, so I take it as well, and head to the Big Circus I’ve been hearing about all the time.

—

It’s more of a social thing, and the currency is cards. I think Cait is fighting for her life on the stage, but no one is watching. I know if I pass the speech and charisma check check, I could sit in the lap of a rich guy, or has a fancy lady on mine. I don’t want to do that. I stand in the middle, scanning the hall.

I see Deacon. He’s wearing a dress shirt, really nice trousers, and a leather jacket. He’s with Piper; it looks like they’re flirting, but I know they’re undercover for something. She’s wearing a fancy red formal dress, looking otherworldly beautiful.

He notices my staring, and looks back, eyebrow raised, like he doesn’t know me. We’ve known each other for fifteen years. That’s when I know; it’s because he doesn’t.

He lost all his memories.

It’s not a bad deal, really. I suppose it’s actually a gift from the Spirits. He doesn’t remember any events or interpersonal relationships, but he does remember his skill set. I remember he also begged people not to go in, so he must also have a card with him. He’s a capable man.

Then I remember: on the top of his skill list, there’s lying. He knows nothing about himself, but he knows he’s a master liar.

That’s when I flee.

—

I know he wants his memory back, and I know he will understand why the Spirits took it when he does. Piper doesn’t know that much about his past; no one here does except me, and I simply cannot deal with that.

I think he recognises me, though. He doesn’t know who I am, but he must intend to find out, because the next time I go to the Big Circus, he comes to me.

He’s relieved that I wasn’t sitting with a big rich person, I realised. He’s hoping I’m not, and he’s worried that I was, because that’s a rational thing to do.

It’s a nice point to insert a bit about Eiden’s backstory here. You might remember that Eiden is a big knives guy, and he has a Balisong. That’s a gift from Deacon on his twelfth birthday, the year Deacon deemed him old enough to fight for his own. He mods it every now and then, but never ever thought of replacing it.

“Hello, sir,” Deacon says easily, “do I know you from somewhere?”

“Hey, D,” I says quietly.

He widens his eyes slightly, and seems to recognises that nickname.

“Hey, you hang on to this,” I says, pulling out the dagger and hands it - blade towards me - to him.

He raises his hand instinctively to take it, then stops and looks at it for a moment.

“Eids,” he murmurs, “Eiden. I think I know you. I know you.”