#celestial muse au

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

~Celestial Muse~

Protect your sketchbook from prying eyes.

[asriel20asi]

Why am I thinking up new words now...I just said Menna instead of Sunna *eye squints*

Ignore me rambling at myself....

[relicsongmel]

Fuck Ed Sheeran. Celestial was written and composed by Denise Hitoki sorry I don’t make the rules

[thevillainswhore]

New Tricks: Celestial Heavens

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Summary: Life couldn’t seem any better — your life long crush, and the football star of your fantasies is now your boyfriend, and your relationship is running smoothly. It’s a dream come true. But when Bucky admits he’s ready to take things to the next level, you’re anxious to make sure losing his virginity is an experience he won’t forget — for all the right reasons.

Which means, a first date is in order.

A night beneath the stars brings the two of you closer together, where emotions run high and confessions sit on the tips of tongues.

Warnings: College AU, Smut, kissing, grinding, dirty talk, praise, reassurance, fluff, fluff and more fluff, pet names, swearing, teasing, first dates, Bucky is a smooth little shit, cute astronomy puns.

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day my loves 🥰 here is the highly requested part two for New Tricks 🥹 the support I have received for part one has been so overwhelming and I want to thank all of you who expressed your love 😭

Beta and divider graphic credits go to @rookthorne - I can’t thank you enough for spending hours of your time helping me bring this AU to life, you’re incredible — this one is for you ❤️

I hope this follow on lives up to your expectations and does our favourite college babies justice. Once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Happy reading my lovelies 💜

New Tricks Masterlist 🌼🐾

New Tricks Playlist 🎵

‼️ Small disclaimer ‼️- while I have done some research, I in no way consider myself to be an astronomy expert. If any of the facts or information I have included are wrong, I apologise profusely.

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, you hum a tune to yourself while waiting for the door to open. 

The impulse to knock again after only a moment of waiting is overwhelming and your impatience begins to wane. You grip the canvas strap of your tote bag which is full to the brim with notepads and books, when the door suddenly swings open to admit you.

“Hey–! Oh, it’s you.” Disappointment sours your tone upon seeing Steve in the doorway. You push past his broad frame and enter his apartment to look for the true reason you are there, paying no mind to the scoff that falls from his lips. 

 

“Yes, hello sis. So good to see you, too!” Steve stays by the door, unmoving and starts conversing with himself. “How am I? I’m great, thanks for asking—how about you? Come on in, we’ll have a drink.” 

You shake your head, huffing a laugh while you scold him playfully, “Oh hush, Stevie, don’t be so butthurt.” From down the hallway, you see a light casting shadows along the floor — the source coming from a slither of an open door. A flicker of red hair disappears around the door frame. “Huh,” you muse, a smirk dancing on your lips. “You should know by now I’m not here for you. Where is he?” 

Steve sighs. “He’s–”

“Buttercup!” Bucky’s shout from his bedroom interrupts Steve, and it snaps your focus towards the direction of his voice. “Baby!”

The heavy thud of his rapid footsteps echoes down the hallway towards the living room, where you currently stand waiting for him, and you can’t help but giggle with amusement at his excitement. 

He appears in a blur, skidding into the room with grace akin to a drunken swan — a pink blush dusts over his cheekbones and the boyish charm of his eager smile makes your stomach flutter. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows, and he covertly attempts to catch his breath from the sudden burst of excitement. 

“–There,” Steve finishes, lamely. 

The bright, pretty smile on Bucky’s lips and how his eyes grow wide when he sees you makes you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine. “Hi, Buttercup,” he breathes, and the pure innocence of his greeting melts your heart.

You can’t help but copy his smile as you make your way towards him, where he positively vibrates in place. “Hi to you too, handsome.” The cotton of his shirt is soft under your palms, and you meet his lips with a small kiss. The brush of his plush lips against yours makes you sigh against his mouth, and his hands sneak around your waist to grip your hips, keeping you in place against his chest.  

He wasn’t going to let you sneak away with just the one kiss — he never does. 

A more insistent press from his lips makes you part your own, and he runs his tongue over your bottom lip.  

“Guys,” Steve whines, “Get a fucking room — I don’t want to see that shit!” 

The effort to pull away from Bucky’s lips is beyond tolerable, but you refuse to turn and look at Steve as you say, “Sorry, bro,” with little to no remorse for his fragile disposition as the older brother. Bucky does not tear his focus from you, rather, his lips quirk in a playful smirk at your snark. 

Unbeknownst to you and behind your back, your brother’s mouth upturns in a smile; the two most important people in his life finally together and so sickeningly in love. 

As of a few weeks ago, Bucky and you started officially dating after a shy, whispered question during the late Sunday morning of your first weekend together. 

Bucky’s small, timid question of what the two of you were once he dragged you back to bed — after the clean-up from a spilled gift basket in his haste — set the butterflies in your stomach aflame. 

Of course, there was no other answer but to rid the doubt in his mind and reassure him. 

From then on, the two of you lived in your own bubble of bliss. You, over the moon to finally be with your long-time crush; Bucky, unbelieving of the reality that he has and is deserving of the girl of his dreams, who loves and nurtures all aspects of him. 

The only way to describe you both during this honeymoon phase is inseparable — spending every single spare moment through college life with one another. 

But no matter how badly you wanted to be with him, and spend more time staring at his handsome features, your art finals were also crucial business — as was keeping Bucky’s GPA intact. The scholarship he revered depended on it. 

Steve’s voice brings you from the torrent of memories and back to the present where Bucky held you fast against his chest still. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

You reach around Bucky’s neck and twirl your fingers through his hair before whispering loud enough for only him to hear, “Ready to go, Puppy?”

The red flush of his cheeks and the part of his lips has you trying to hide the satisfied smirk that threatens to pull at the corner of your mouth — his new nickname borne from a quick-witted quip you thought nothing of, truly is one of your greatest accomplishments to date. 

You remember it perfectly.

Bucky leaned against the headboard, his lips in a full pout, and arms crossed tightly across his chest. The bare expanse of skin was shadowed by the low light of your bedside lamp. “No,” he grumbled, furrowing his brows with his sudden, foul mood. 

“Bucky— come on, we have to eat something,” you reiterated for the umpteenth time. 

“No.” The dramatics of his brooding had you struggling to rein your laughter in. 

“We’ve been cuddling for three hours,” you insisted, deciding to reason with the stubborn idiot. “I literally heard your stomach rumble an hour ago. You need food.” 

Bucky sulked. “No. Only need you.” 

“Oh my god,” you giggled, “you look like a kicked puppy, Bucky.” 

There was a deep, impatient huff, and then he stared at you, an expression of longing covering his features. It only exaggerated his puppy eyes. 

A bright idea came to you then, the comparison may just be what you needed to make the boy move… “Here, boy,” you called, patting your thigh with one hand and snapping your fingers with the other. “Come on, who’s a good boy? Huh? You want a treat, baby? Do you wanna be a good pup for me?” 

Bucky’s reaction was more than you could have ever hoped for — his entire body became deathly still for a moment, then his arms slackened to fall onto the bed and a deep flush of blotchy red trailed up from his chest and up to his neck. 

You would have been worried about overstepping if you hadn’t spotted the dazed, glassy look in his eyes, darkening the cerulean to an Aegean blue.  

Bucky liked it. 

The praise, humiliation, spliced with a pinch of demand — the entirely accidental recipe for how to break him. 

Ever since then, Bucky’s new nickname causes the most visceral reaction he so desperately tries to hide, with very little success. The quiet hitch of his breath has you trying to keep your composure, and if only to tease him a little more, you wink at him. 

In the present, he chokes on a sharp intake of breath and coughs. 

There’s a quiet, short bout of laughter behind you from Steve, but you focus on Bucky while he catches his breath, still beet red. “You ready to go, Buck?” you repeat, squeezing the back of his neck.  

The rapid semblance of composure did nothing to hide the effect your words have. He blows out a breath, and stutters a determinedly stoic, “Y–yeah— almost, just gotta— um— run and g–get my jacket.” 

You hum and bump your nose against his before stepping back to let him breathe, “Okay, Buck. I’ll be waiting by the door.” 

Bucky wastes no time in spinning around before taking off like a shot down the hallway towards his bedroom. As he disappears, you chuckle to yourself and wonder how embarrassed he will be when he realises that he is already wearing a hoodie.  

“You’re wicked.” Steve stands with his arms crossed and a raised eyebrow. But by the small smirk upturning his lips, you know he’s just as entertained with Bucky’s fumbling than you are. “He’s so whipped.”

Before you have a chance to retort, a honeyed, feminine voice calls from your brother’s room. “Steve, stop hounding your sister and leave her be! You promised me a foot rub.” 

“Oh?” It's your turn to cock your eyebrow, and you watch, all too righteously, while his cheeks turn bright red. “Remind me who’s the whipped one again, hm?” 

Steve flounders in place, his mouth opening and closing while he searches for the words to no doubt put you back in your place, but another voice beats him to it by calling out to you from the hallway. “Flower, you have no idea! Last week I got him to–” 

“Okay! That’s enough of that,” Steve interrupts, quick to shut down the reveal before it knew the light of day. He stalks down the hallway towards his bedroom, and as he goes, he yells over his shoulder at you, “Enjoy your time with Buck, sis, please don’t break him, we’ve got training tomorrow. Love ya — see you next week!” 

The door slams shut just as Bucky appears around the corner, clad in both a hoodie and a jacket, and his eyes dart everywhere around the room but at you. The realisation must have hit him, and he was far too stubborn to come back empty handed. 

Decidedly, you don’t question him on it. Instead, you hold your hand out to him and say, “Come on, handsome, we’ve got some studying to do.” 

And just like that, Bucky’s face lights up and he bounces towards you to interlace his fingers with yours. He follows you with ease while you lead him out his apartment to the elevator, the doors opening for you instantly for the both of you to step in. 

The floor numbers descend on the screen, and a companionable, comfortable silence floats in the air. Until you turn to the side when you feel the stare of your boyfriend. 

Bucky’s blue eyes shine brightly while he looks you up and down, taking you in once more, and your heart flutters against your chest with the soft smile pulling at his lips. “You look beautiful today,” he whispers, a line of worship that makes your stomach flip. While holding your gaze, he lifts your hand up to his mouth and places a kiss to the back of it. 

If the heart eyes from the cartoons were real, then your boyfriend takes the gold. 

You barely fight the urge to squeal out loud with the show of heartfelt adoration. “Thank you, baby.” 

The elevator doors open with a swoosh as you reach the ground floor. Squeezing his hand gently, you begin to lead him out the lift and towards the exit. “Let’s get going — we gotta make sure you ace this test.”

In the beginning, it took a while to process that you were Bucky’s girlfriend — an ease unlike any other helped you both fit together so seamlessly, as though you had been dating for far longer. 

That same ease also makes itself known in your shared sexual compatibility.

Ever since that fateful movie night back in Steve and Bucky’s apartment, the two of you went no further than making out at every opportunity that presents itself (or that you make) and grinding against each other until you both came — though it didn’t stop you both from doing it a lot. 

Sex for the first time is a big deal. Bucky’s admission of still being a virgin, and his comfort being your priority, you take every old and new venture into pleasure at his pace. But your hesitance is met with an unprecedented hunger that leaves you breathless with need, every single time. 

Bucky’s eagerness to feel you against him, the heat of your bodies intermingling as best they can between the layers of clothing always made him feral with want, and each time he ventures closer, further than he did before in his exploration of your body, it grows with such passion it scorches your skin.   

You were going to wait on his signal no matter how long it took. But a few signs were telling you, however, that Bucky wants it. 

Recently, your boyfriend has been a little more desperate, more so than usual. 

His whines and whimpers turn from breathy and high, to deep, animalistic sounds that send shivers up your spine. Bucky was already putty in the palm of your hands at the best of times, and to witness him let go of his inhibitions was addicting — you wanted more of him, and you have the inclination that he longs for the same. 

And although the both of you swore to one another that you would head to the campus library to focus on your studies, somewhere along the way, your feet took you straight back to your dorm room and into your bedroom. 

Your giggles and sighs echo off the walls, along with the rustling sound of your bed covers. “That tickles!” 

Bucky, the clever, sly boy he is, figured out far too quickly where the sensitive spots on your neck are. “‘M sorry, baby,” he whispers against your neck, his breath hot and fanning over the delicate skin. His sweet, tender kisses start to turn heated — more passionate and intense as his hands begin to wander over your body. 

“Fuck,” Bucky breathes against the curve of your jaw. “You smell so good, Buttercup — could jus’ eat you up.” 

You softly moan in reply. The sudden hunger in his tone makes a shiver run down your spine and settle heavily between your thighs.

“C’mere,” he growls, and he rolls his body over yours, forcing you to lay flat against the mattress. You quickly wrap your legs around his waist as he trails sloppy kisses from the curve of your mouth and down the slope of your neck. “Atta girl, good girl.”

The feel of his lips against your skin makes your eyes flutter closed, and it’s entirely impossible to withhold your upper body rising with the arch of your back, pushing your covered breast up against his chest.

You can’t help but think of how confident Bucky has grown in such little time — his boldness only adding fuel to the fire.

Bucky firmly grips your waist in his hands with a thready moan, and he slowly, torturously inches them up towards the bottom of your tits. You feel the brush from the tips of his thumbs through the fabric of your bra and shirt, the pressure of them indescribable. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” He squeezes his eyes shut as he tests a roll of his hips into you. The high moan that tumbles from your lips jolts him, and he thrusts forward with a small, disjointed groan — the heavenly pleasure of grinding his cock against your clothed cunt almost too much for him to bear. “Feel so good, Bee — holy fuck.”

You grin up at him, squeezing your knees against his hips. Another thing Bucky grew confident in: being vocal in the bedroom. His litany of curses and range of vocabulary comes to life if he loses himself enough; bold in his actions, he takes charge more and it leaves you a wreck every single damn time.  

“Gotta keep going, baby,” he pants into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “don’t make me stop, please don’t make me stop.” The desperation in his voice is as addicting as the pleasure he so freely gives, and you moan loudly to the ceiling. His pure, feral need to take what he wants only sends you closer to the edge. “Fuck–”

Your whines and pleas for more mix with his deep grunts on every grind into you. “Bucky, don't you dare stop,” you gasp, grabbing at his shoulders and wrinkling his shirt in your grip. “Oh my god, please don’t stop.” 

“Not gonna stop,” he promises as he pants against your neck. “Not gonna stop till you fuckin’ cum for me, Buttercup.”

You grab onto the back of his thighs, forcing him to rock against you faster. Harder. 

Bucky’s whimpers only serve to drive you crazier and with wild abandon, you buck your hips to meet his thrusts. “So close, baby. Almost there— oh, fuck,” you cry. 

Bucky bites the skin of your neck, causing you to gasp loudly and moan. 

“Fuck, doll,” he groans, and he swallows your whines with frenzied need, his tongue laving over yours. The harsh pants for air when he pulls back to speak send you into a whimpering mess. “Drivin’ me crazy, Bee. Need you so bad, you got no idea—” 

“Keep going, please, keep going!”

“—Gotta have you,” he grunts. “Need these fuckin’ clothes off — wanna see your perfect body.”

It’s hopeless to keep your moans at bay. His ferocity has you on the edge and your thighs shake as you balance on the precipice. “Gonna— gonna cum.” You tangle your fingers into his damp hair and pull. “Bucky, baby—”

“I know, pretty girl,” Bucky coos. “I’ll get you there, don’t worry—” 

“Please, please, please!” you frantically beg. The knot in your stomach is wound tight; the fast rhythm of Bucky’s thrusts pushing it to the point of shattering. 

With a slight shift in angle of Bucky’s hips, the tip of his cock rubs against your swollen clit through your leggings, and you scream from the sheer ecstasy that flows through your veins with your climax. “Cumming! I’m cumming— oh my god, I’m cumming!”

Bucky’s hips falter, and he chokes out a raspy moan, “Fuck!” 

The shattering of built-up tension rushes over the two of you; harsh moans fall from Bucky’s parted lips while he rides out his high, his hips continuing to grind against you. 

It all falls on deaf ears while fire still runs through your veins.  

“Holy shit,” Bucky whispers, finally slowing down his breathing and stopping the faltering, aborted thrusts of his hips. The growing wet patch that stains the crotch of his sweatpants no longer makes his cheeks flush with shame. 

Quiet whimpers and gasps for breath leave you unable to speak, to utter just how wrecked you feel beneath him. 

“Holy fuck,” Bucky repeats, and he gently rests his lower half against yours while carefully keeping his upper body propped up on his elbows. “That was–” Hot breaths fan over your lips as he rests his forehead against yours. “So fuckin’ good.”

You laugh breathily and squeeze his shoulders, the press of your fingertips meeting hard, strong muscle.

It’s a peaceful moment; a serene bliss you only find in the comfort of Bucky’s arms. It feels right to be cocooned in his warmth — your boyfriend always making you feel safe. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Bucky says softly, placing a quick kiss to your nose, then a lingering, passionate one on your lips. “I can’t– fuck, can’t believe you’re mine.” 

You smile brightly up at him, lost for words, and with a tired huff, he rolls off of your body to lay beside you. Your chests rise and fall in a soothing sense of synchronisation. 

The slow drain of adrenaline from your body erupts in a sudden fit of giggles.  

Bucky blinks, then smiles hesitantly, a confused quirk of his lips. “What’s so funny, Buttercup?” 

“I just–” You bite your lip in an attempt to stop your laughter so you’re able to respond to him. “Sorry– it’s just a little crazy to me how you’re not as shy as you used to be.” A teasing smirk pulls at your lips. “You’ve gone a little rogue, Pup.” 

Heat creeps up Bucky’s neck and covers his cheeks with an adorable red flush. Even if your man has gained a lot of confidence, he will never be able to rid the bashful puppy inside of him. 

“I should be worried,” you tease. “You’re giving me a run for my money.” 

“Right, that’s it.” Bucky suddenly shoots up and climbs over you, pinning you in place with his hips and thighs. One of his hands snakes up your arm, then the other, and you shiver with the ghost of sensation, only, he smirks. “I’ve got you now.” 

Your wrists are suddenly together, unable to move from the top of the bed and in the grip of his hand. “Hey–!”

There’s a wicked, playful glint in his darkening eyes as he looks down at you. “You’ll learn, Bee, that I’m not a man to be teased.” The hand he has free begins to flit over your ticklish spots. 

“Bucky,” You warn as you nervously chuckle, trying to edge away from his touch. “Don’t you even think about it.”  

That doesn’t deter him though. He runs the tips of his fingers, a feather light touch, underneath your tank top. “Oh, no– no, no,” he tuts. “I have the upper hand now, baby.”

“No!” you loudly squeal, trying to kick your feet to dislodge the weight of Bucky’s athletic build over your lower half, but it’s of no use. 

You burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter — tears start streaming down your cheeks while your boyfriend watches in cruel amusement above you. “Where did all that fighting talk from earlier go, huh, Buttercup? Where did it go?” 

“Okay, okay! I– I lose, you w–win!” 

With a satisfied sigh, Bucky yields and lets go of your wrists to bring one hand down to your waist, closely following with the other as he starts to gently stroke the exposed skin of your middle. 

“You’re too easy, baby,” he chuckles, fondness bursting over his features. 

“Yeah, well,” you sigh in defeat. “You played dirty. Best believe I’ll get you back, big guy.”

A comfortable silence stretches between you both while you breathe heavily and close your eyes against the exhaustion overtaking your limbs. The rush of endorphins and all manner of happiness still flowing through your veins.  

Until, “Did I go too far?” Bucky asks suddenly, his voice timid, small. 

The tone of his question indicates a sense of duality — he’s not just asking only about the tickle fight. 

You open your eyes to the view of his long hair hiding the two of you from the world; your room obscured by the curtain of it. The bright, shining blue of his irises steals your breath with the depth of emotion swimming in them — keeping you firmly within the bubble the two of you created in your passion.  

“Oh, Bucky,” you whisper soothingly, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek — the soft strands of his hair against your fingertips sends an unprompted shiver down your spine. You move your hand from his cheek so your index finger could press against his nose, then up to smooth over the furrow between his brows. “Not at all, handsome.” An effortless smile pulls at your lips, one that he hesitantly returns. “It was perfect, I promise.” 

Though he doesn’t seem to settle. Something is on his mind, that was obvious — his tells are easy to decipher from the time you spent studying his expressions. When he is unsure, hesitant, the tip of his tongue runs over his bottom lip; when anxious, his shoulders hunch inwards in an attempt to make himself smaller. 

Bucky swallows thickly. 

You frown. “Are you okay, Puppy?” 

The soft lilt of your voice soothes his worries, and he takes a deep breath before responding with a wavering, “I think I’m ready.” 

The implication of such a comment makes your eyes widen slightly — while the possibilities are endless for what he could possibly be referring to, you’re almost certain you understand exactly what he means. 

As though he suddenly realises how it could be interpreted, he barely whispers, “I w–wanna have— have sex.” There’s a slight tremble in his voice despite his courage to confess. 

You blink once, twice, hesitating only for a second before opening your mouth to reply, to question him, but Bucky rushes to add, “With you.”  

It’s your turn to swallow — despite the harsh dryness coating your throat. In the past, you had partners, summer flings. Few stayed, and even fewer were worth the trials and effort of a proper relationship. And through those couplings, sex became something that didn’t faze you. 

With Bucky it feels different. 

The connection is far more meaningful to you than any casual hookup from a club, and to know he is in a space where he is comfortable enough to place such vulnerability in the palms of your hands… It is not lost on you, the importance of his choice. 

You look deep into his eyes while you seek his full consent — if only just to quell the doubt that swells within yourself. “You’re sure about this?” 

“One hundred percent,” Bucky confidently assures. “I want all of you, Buttercup. And I wanna give you all of me.” 

Fuck, you curse to yourself. You didn’t deserve him. 

You nod, then say, “Alright, baby.” Bucky grins at you, and this time you rush to add, “Let me do this properly though, okay? I want to take you out; treat you like you deserve.” 

A sudden sheepishness clouds his expression, and his eyes dart downwards to your lips while he licks his own. “Mhm,” he mumbles quietly, “Y–You can do that if— if you like.” 

You take both of his cheeks in your hands, and you tilt his head up to place a soft, loving kiss to his swollen lips. When he makes direct eye contact with you, you whisper against his mouth, “You deserve the world, Pup — nothing less. So yes, I would love to.” 

The night of the long anticipated date night arrived faster than you realise — after classes, study sessions, and accompanying Nat to the boy’s football training to cheer them on, time flew by in a blur.

As much as Bucky begged you for a scrap of a hint or clue for what you planned, you kept it under tight wraps; a lock and key that will not budge for even the sweetest of pleas.  

It hasn’t been an easy task to stay strong against his wide, puppy eyes — on more than one occasion, you almost let slip. But with severe determination, you successfully keep it a secret. 

And by god are you proud of yourself for such an achievement. 

You know for sure that Bucky is going to enjoy himself tonight — every last stop pulled, and with the help from your brother for the venue, you feel confident in the plan.

That is, until you smooth over the invisible wrinkles of your dress for the umpteenth time while you make your way down the hallway towards their apartment, your stomach roiling with anxiety of the unknown. Will Bucky truly like it? What if he hates it–?

A hand with perfectly manicured, blood red nails grabs yours, and pulls your fidgeting fingers away from the seam of stitching to the pockets of your dress. “Babe, please stop panicking.” Natasha’s soothing tone brings you back down to earth. “You look incredible — Bucky isn’t going to know what hit him.”

After hearing of your plans from your brother, she was quick to offer her help with your makeup and hair, which you graciously and gratefully took her up on. You were desperate for some feminine support, and Nat came in the form of an angel sent from the heavens.  

The way she worked her magic left you unable to believe it was you staring back at yourself in the mirror; hair flawlessly styled and makeup ethereal. A shaky sigh escapes you. “You really think so?”   

All in all, as you walk down the hallway to the door that hides your date from view, arm in arm with your guardian angel, there is not one reason for why you are so anxious — though the pressure you place on yourself to make sure this date is perfect is among one of the chief suspects. 

You meant, wholeheartedly, what you told Bucky before — he deserves the world, and you crave to hand it to him. “I mean–”

“Listen to me,” Nat says fiercely as she steps in front of you, blocking your path to the door of the apartment and stopping you in your tracks. Her hands grip your arms, tethering you to reality. “I know for a fact that boy is going to positively die when he sees you.” 

The tension releases from your body with her comforting words, but Nat still goes above and beyond to bring you out of your spiral. “Hell, if I wasn’t already with your brother, I'd have snatched you up myself.” 

You can’t help the small smile that quirks your lips for her instilled confidence, and she winks. 

You’re grateful that Steve has found someone so genuine who you easily get along with. Natasha is a beautiful woman both inside and out, faultlessly honest and loyal — traits that are hard to find in a person, yet here she is, extending her help with little thought or expectation of it being returned.  

“Thank you,” you murmur, trying to convey how much you appreciate her. “Y–You didn’t have to do all of this.” 

“Maybe not.” Her hair bounces as she shrugs. “But us girls gotta stick together — especially now that we’ve got two helmet heads stuck to our back.” 

“Come on.” Her arm hooks around yours, and she pulls you along. “Let’s go get your boy.” 

Before you can blink, you are standing outside your brother’s apartment, and with a deep breath and moral support of the redhead on your arm, you bring your closed fist up to the wood. “Here we go.” Three, firm knocks ring through the silence, and you step back to wait. 

The anticipation doesn't last very long at all before the door swings inwards with a flourish. 

Steve stands in the entryway, his back turned towards you while he shouts into his apartment. “Hurry your ass up, Buck–!” You lightly switch your weight between your feet, waiting for him to turn around. “They’re at the door!” 

There’s a clattering bang and more curses from inside the apartment, when Steve finally turns around to greet you. “There’s my favourite girls—” He freezes in place, mouth slack from shock, and his eyes trail up and down your body. “Flower,” he gasps in awe. “Oh sis, you look so beautiful.”

The sincerity in his words immediately brings tears to your eyes, and Nat hisses at her boyfriend, “Hey, don’t ruin her makeup!”  

“I’m sorry,” Steve says slowly, still taking you in. “I just– you’re so fucking beautiful. Look at you.” 

Nat hums happily while her hand rubs your shoulder. “Isn’t she? I said Bucky’s going to die when he sees her.” 

“Guys,” You whine, the hot flush of embarrassment leaves you feeling utterly flustered.  

Steve ignores you though, readily agreeing with his girlfriend as he opens the door wider to let you both enter. “She’s right, Flower. It suits you perfectly.” 

A surge of giddiness hits you — after a time of intense deliberation of your wardrobe, you chose one of your favourite sundresses to wear for the special night, a spaghetti strap in a soft, cornflower blue. A small surprise and homage to someone special. “Thanks Stevie, I really appreciate–”  

“Okay, okay, wait–” Bucky rounds the corner from the hallway as he enters the living room, interrupting you. “What about this one?”  

The cufflinks on his navy blue button-up steal his whole attention, while his long, chocolate hair conceals you from his view. He struggles fastening the cuffs with the subtle shake of his fingers, and you can almost hear his inner frustration when he huffs an annoyed breath, blowing strands of hair from his face. “Dammit, I swear–”

You stand there with thin lips to contain your laughter while waiting for him to look up.  

“Steve?” Bucky asks frustratedly after he doesn’t receive an immediate response. “Do you think Buttercup will like this outfit or not–” His head tilts upwards, hair falling either side of his handsome face that is painted with exasperation at being ignored, and his words falter.

Blue eyes widen in surprise to find you standing there next to his best friend. 

“Oh– fuck,” Bucky gasps, and his jaw slackens with the gravity of your presence; truly awe stricken by the sight of your opulent outfit and appearance. His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps uselessly around his inability to speak. 

The click of your shoes against the floorboards doesn’t snap him out of his daze let alone register in his mind, so deep in his fixation of you.  

You take the chance to admire his appearance. 

The navy, button-up shirt clings to his broad shoulders, accentuating the definition of the muscles all the way down to his forearms, and with each movement, the material tightens sinfully. The top few buttons of his shirt are left undone — a choice you’re most thankful for because of the tease of his bare chest. Black slacks fit snug to his hips and grip his thick thighs. 

On any normal day, when Bucky wasn’t out in the field in his football gear, he normally stuck to his casual clothing of an old t-shirt and sweatpants — comfort over presentability, not that you ever complain about the sight of him in sweats. But this is the first time you’ve ever seen him remotely dressed up.

You walk towards him and grab his hands with yours, stopping his absentminded fidgeting — gravity keeping him routed in place. 

“I think you’re absolutely gorgeous, Bucky,” you say, gazing into his eyes while you wonder how lucky you are to hold his attention in a room of his favourite people. “If that answers your question.”

“My god, Bee,” he whispers, finally able to give a voice to the flock of thoughts circling his mind. “You look stunning, baby — ethereal.” He laughs, a little deliriously. “You’re kinda killing me here.” His large hands encircle yours, bringing them up to hold against his chest. 

There’s so much emotion in his eyes as they dart over your figure like there’s not enough time in the world for him to take you in. 

“Give us a spin!” Nat calls into the charged air while she clings onto Steve’s arm, who watches on teary eyed. 

Bucky takes one of your hands and lifts it into the air, encouraging you to twirl. The skirt of your dress fans out around your thighs, and you can’t help but grin wide as your boyfriend whistles low. “You're a goddamn dream, Buttercup.”

He guides you back into his hold, before gently gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger to bump his nose against yours. “And all mine.” 

The way Bucky’s stare burrows deep into your soul and makes a home where he rightfully belongs — it takes everything you have to not blurt out the three words residing on the tip of your tongue, but something has you biting your lip against the impulse. 

Instead of declaring aloud what your mind and heart feel, you settle with another truth, “And you, Bucky Barnes, are a sight for sore eyes.” 

A dusting of pink spreads high over his cheeks, and you take pride in being able to fluster him so easily — your adorable Pup would never lose his bashfulness. 

“What did I tell you, honey?” Natasha bumps her hips against Steve’s as she snickers into her hand. “He’s practically drooling over her.” 

You join in with their laughter while Bucky pulls you close and buries himself into your neck, even more flustered from the insistent teasing, and he grumbles low into your ear, “Great, now there’s two of them.” 

Leaning back to better look at his flushed face, you assure him, “I think you’re adorable, baby.”

His eyes twinkle with a spark only you could ever bring out of him. “I’m excited for the night, Bee,” Bucky declares, honest and sweet. 

“Me too, handsome,” you readily agree while you step back, the small hops of uncontainable excitement making Steve and Nat chuckle. “Are we all set to leave?” 

“Oh!” Nat cries, “Before you forget—” She slips out of Steve’s hold and rushes into the kitchen, coming back a second later with a wicker basket full of food, the very same that she insisted on when she first found out about your date. With a wink, she hands it to you. “You can’t leave without this.” 

“You’re an angel,” you praise, walking towards her and holding your arms wide for a hug. She readily accepts it and kisses you on the cheek. “Thank you so much for this.”

Just as you step back from her embrace to grab her offering, Bucky swoops in and grabs the basket before you can even touch the wicker handle. “Hey! Excuse me, Barnes,” you scold, frowning at him. “I am more than capable of carrying that.”

“I know,” Bucky teases while he walks backwards towards the apartment door, a devilish grin on his lips. “But I don’t care for a picnic basket gettin’ in the way and ruinin’ the view of my girl in a pretty dress.” 

Your jaw drops from his suave words, and you stand there, flustered as you watch his retreating form. Without looking, he opens the door with his free hand and bids farewell to his best friend with a nod, then he smiles at Nat. 

Bucky then looks to you. The flick of his hair as he nods towards the hallway pulls you from the reverie. “Come on, beautiful. The night is young; the possibilities endless.” 

Where the hell has he gotten his silver tongue from? your mind questions. 

“He’s gotten too smooth for his own good,” Steve comments as though he read your mind, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“You don’t say,” you reply easily. To get to the door, you walk past your brother, and he slips a folded piece of paper into your hand while Bucky is walking into the hallway, his back turned. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” 

Steve grins. “Have fun, Flower — you deserve this.” Naturally, it wouldn’t be a traditional sibling farewell without a departing shout of, “And make sure you wear protection, shithead!” 

The Brooklyn streets are aglow from the overhead lights while the moon creeps up the horizon, watching over you and Bucky holding hands. He blindly follows you towards your best kept secret.  

“Let me get this straight.” Bucky swings your arm with his gently. “You’re telling me I can’t have any clues about where you’re taking me?” 

“Nope,” you respond, staying strong to your oath of silence. “We’re a couple of blocks away, you dummy. You’re going to find out in five minutes — be patient, I know it’s hard.” 

“C’mon, Bee,” Bucky begs. “You don’t wanna put a poor man out of his misery?” He lightly tugs on your intertwined hands to spin you into his chest. 

“Hey–” You look up at him to find his eyes hooded with barely restrained lust.  

“I almost died already after seeing you in that dress for the first time, and now you’re torturing me, I have to watch you walk in front of me in the damned thing.” 

Oh, you laugh to yourself. He’s really turning the charm up. 

“Puppy,” you whisper breathily, intentionally running a hand down his chest. The action and your touch makes Bucky shudder. “Believe me when I say I could make you do a lot worse.” 

A deep flush of red paints his cheeks and spreads blotchily down his neck, and his breath hitches when you cup his jaw in your palm. “Be good for me, and be patient,” you warn, the fan of your breath over his lips only worsening his flustered state. “I promise the wait will be worth it.”

“Y–Yeah, okay–” He clears his throat and sets you back onto your feet, though he does not release your hand.  

A flash of mischief darkens his eyes when you pull him onwards, and you look over your shoulder at him when he says, “Yes ma’am.” 

That is something you could get used to hearing. “Atta boy.”

The rest of the walk is quiet but calm — a mutual contentment stretching between the two of you where words aren’t needed. 

You know that around the next street corner lay your surprise, and Bucky still has no idea what is in store — the piece of paper that Steve gave you begins to burn a hole in your dress pocket.  

The exclamation of surprise that falls from Bucky’s lips when he lays eyes on the museum makes all the effort worth it, though it grows to a state of clear confusion from the furrowing of his brows. “Wait, it’s late — isn’t it closed?”

“Come on,” you say in reply, and instead of going to the main entrance, you lead Bucky towards an alleyway where Steve told you the back entrance for staff is situated.  

The crinkle of paper is louder than the cheering crowd at a football game, and you grip the invaluable information as you near the locked door. Steve’s offering rings in your mind: It will get you into the main foyer, from there, you’re gonna need to get sneaky.

Bucky’s hand squeezes yours in an attempt to get your attention. “Bee?”

You’re too homed in on the memory of Steve talking to you about your plan — one of their teammates works within the museum, and he was able to pull a few strings and call in a couple of favours for the gold mine in your hand. 

You determinedly walk towards the keypad built into the wall next to the door and unfold the note. In the process, you let Bucky’s hand go — you instantly feel the loss of connection.    

“Um— Buttercup,” he chuckles nervously, glancing over his shoulders to spot any onlookers. “I think this is classified as illegal trespassing right now.” 

“I mean,” you say, then you stick your tongue between your teeth as you work the six-digit code from the piece of paper to the keypad. The low tone press of each digit covers up the shuffle of feet behind you. “Bucky, it’s okay — it’s safe.”

“But–” He hesitates when the mechanism clicks to signify it's open. 

You look at him and suddenly grasp the idea that he is anxious — his football scholarship and prospective future could be ripped away from him within the hour should the two of you get caught by the authorities.

“Hey, hey, we’re good — no one’s gonna catch us, I swear,” you assure. Though he still looks on edge. You don’t want Bucky to feel apprehensive for the sake of his headspace or the rest of the evening, and your only option is to offer him your most sincere form of faith. You hold out your hand, palm up. “We’re gonna be okay. Trust me?”

  

There’s a small, nervous twitch of a smile on his lips, and then, finally, his tense shoulders and posture relax as he steps forward and sets his hand into yours with an ease that shocks you, only strengthening the solid connection you have. 

“Come on.” Bucky follows behind you, a slight laugh on his breath as you all but run into the museum. 

Different eras of evolution pass by in a flash; hundreds of exhibits dedicated to all corners of the world go ignored in lieu of taking Bucky to one place that, normally, was not an easy area to walk through and explore, given how popular the exhibit is. 

By the time you reach the doors hidden behind a set of double, velvet curtains, you’re out of breath. “O—kay,” you pant, hands on your hips as you slightly bend forward. “We’re — we’re here.”  

Your boyfriend, the teasing bastard he is, chuckles while he extends a hand to your shoulder, “Are you okay?” 

The bastard hasn’t even broken a sweat. 

“Fine — I’m fine,” you gasp, and you gesture at the curtains. “Come on, I can’t hold it in any longer–” The heels of your shoes click over the floor, and you push aside the curtains to reveal the door — only then do you turn around and smile at Bucky. “Here we go.”

The doors fly open with a flourish and reveal a domed planetarium with the signage above a giant moon: A Journey Through The Stars. 

It is a coveted event within the science community, and only after you hear of it through whispers in the halls of your dorms and classes did you realise it was perfect. 

Darkness cloaks and envelopes the two of you as you step inside — Bucky moving slowly in his daze of amazement. On strings and platforms above and lining the dome ceiling are twinkling lights and stars, the only source of lumination to show the wonderment in his cerulean blues. 

You watch from a distance with bated breath while Bucky stares to the ceiling, mouth agape, taking in the moving three-dimensional hologram above him and everything it has to offer. 

The galaxy, with its swirls of pinks, purples, and blues among millions of stars, are brought to life before his very eyes. Planets thousands of times bigger than the two of you cross and circle one another above your heads, closer than either of you could have ever thought possible, and yet, still only just out of reach — the concept achieves the impossible. 

In the end, you realise as you stare at Bucky, your heart swelling with the love that courses through you, that you have gone beyond the very goal you were desperate to attain; to give Bucky Barnes the world. 

He spins on the spot, eyes bright with a childlike awe you have only ever seen on the mornings you've woken up in his arms. The glow of the celestial wonders captures in that second, a memory that will last forever — the sight of your man, the centre of your world, underneath the stars. 

Ever so slowly, Bucky delicately brings his gaze back down to earth, and notices the distance between the two of you. His voice echoes across the room, off of the planets and stars as he asks with a waver in his voice, “H–How did you know?” 

You smile. “That you’re kind of an astronomy nerd?”  

Bucky only nods his head, still at a loss for words. Strands of his neatly tucked hair fall over his eyes, and you take a deep breath and steady your own voice. “Do you remember our first movie night with Stevie and Nat?” 

There is a small hum of acknowledgement from deep in his throat. 

“Well,” you continue, “I remember the two of them were arguing, it took them ages to settle on a film choice. I was beginning to lose my tether.” The recollection of the memory — their voices and banter make you chuckle. “Anyway, a trailer came up on the TV for an upcoming film about an astronaut getting stuck in space — the Martian, maybe? I’m not too sure.” 

He is purely focused on you as you speak, and you begin to recall your favourite part of the memory with a fond smile, ignoring the slight lump in your throat from the overwhelming flood of fondness and adoration. “But I watched– I watched as your head snapped up instantly. You were enamoured, Bucky — I’ve never seen you so hooked into anything more in my life.”

Time freezes as Bucky stands there, unmoving and speechless. The lack of reaction from him makes your stomach twist with nerves, and you rush to fill the silence, rambling on, “Then I noticed the smaller things. Your stack of astronomy books on your nightstand, the NASA merch I find when I steal one of your sweaters.” A small laugh escapes then at his incredulous expression. “And so, I went out on a whim, piecing everything together, and I– well, I thought I should try my chances.” 

“You really—” Bucky swallows the lump stuck in his throat. “You noticed all of that?”

“Of course I did, Bucky,” you tell him with reverence. “How could I not notice something you’re in love with?” The colours of the night sky shimmer over his face and over the sheen in his eyes as he stares at you. Hesitantly, you ask, “D–Do you like it?” 

“Do I like it?” He repeats, huffing a breath. “Do I– do I like it–?”

There’s a thud as the basket he was holding falls to the floor, and you gasp while he storms towards you and picks you up around your waist to spin you around in the air. 

His grin is wide while you squeal with shock. “Damn right I like it!” he shouts with pride. “My girl is the fucking best!” 

“Ah–! Bucky!” The skirt of your dress flutters over your thighs as you hold onto his shoulders.

He whoops and yells his happiness, and after a few rotations, he carefully places you back down onto the floor, only he doesn’t stop his persistent touch — kisses scatter over your face, never lingering in one place for more than a second. 

“You’re — so — amazing.” His lips move downwards from your face to your jaw, then your neck. “Can’t — believe — you’re — actually — mine.” 

The ache in your stomach flutters from your laughter, though you are on cloud nine and find it difficult to care when the boy you’ve had a crush on for so long is kissing your face like there is no tomorrow. 

Eventually, Bucky begins to calm down, settling his forehead against yours while wrapping his hands around your waist. “This means everything to me, Buttercup.” He grants you a slow, final kiss to your lips. “Thank you.” 

“You are more than welcome, sweet boy.” You move closer into his chest and peck him on the lips. “Now let’s have that picnic.”

The two of you sit under the largest planet, and you dive into the contents of the picnic basket to find Natasha has packed a whole range of finger foods from sandwiches, mini cakes, to strawberries and grapes. A small bottle of your favourite drink is tucked into the side of the basket, next to two glasses.  

After a toast, “To what the universe has planned for us,” you both bask in one another’s company — two tiny specks of the universe coming together as one. 

You listen intently as Bucky excitedly rambles about the different planets, as well as his love for Mars in particular. The gesticulation and smile on his face is priceless, and you only wish you had thought to bring a camera. 

Bucky continues endlessly — listing interesting facts about each planet and star he knew, and he goes into detail about any active NASA projects or upcoming ones he’s been keeping track of. 

Not only is he an avid storyteller, he makes sure to involve you in the conversation, engaging you with silly questions on whether you believe in other life out there, and any of your thoughts you have about historical space ventures. 

It is easy to fall into step with his passion, and you know that you could stare all night as his whole face lights up, especially his eyes, while he talks about something he thought no one noticed before. 

But you did. 

The highlight is when Bucky begins to talk about star constellations — his love and adoration surpassing that of anything you had heard from him before.   

He sits behind you, legs resting either side of your body while he holds you to his chest with one arm, the other pointing up towards the dome ceiling. “You see that one there, Bee?” There’s a cluster of twinkling stars in the direction of his gesture. “The large rectangle one — that’s Orion.”

The soothing rumble of his voice against your back is remedying — home.  

“It’s also known as Orion The Hunter,” Bucky explains further. “A Greek name, but its true origin is believed to come from the ancient times of Babylon.” 

“It’s beautiful, Bucky,” You sigh happily. The cluster and the whole of the night’s sky is truly beautiful — once they were just a pattern of lights in the sky to you, now they hold far more meaning. 

“Yeah,” your boyfriend agrees. You don’t see how his eyes flicker down to you, rather, you only feel his cheeks rising in a smile. “It is.” He clears his throat. “The constellation includes two of the brightest stars in the sky.” 

“Really?” You hunch forward a little to look upwards. 

“Mhm,” Bucky confirms with a hum. 

With a huff of effort, you push yourself up onto your feet, and walk closer to the constellation until you are directly underneath the pattern of stars. It’s with a new appreciation you stare up at the twinkling lights that you didn’t have before — admiring the complexity of the placement but the simple beauty of it. 

The reflection from the dome ceiling illuminates onto your skin, tattooing patterns of a realm that will never be discovered for its full existence. 

Bucky, however, focuses entirely on you — his girl, in a reality the two of you once never thought possible. 

A shuffling of feet comes from next to you, and Bucky stands and makes his way towards you. He places both of his hands onto your cheeks to tilt your head back down, to be back in the present with him. “Maybe not the brightest. But that’s okay, because that one is only meant for me anyway.” 

It’s sudden, but it consumes you whole — mind, body, and soul — of the realisation that Bucky Barnes is the love of your life. 

You fight the tears threatening to bubble to the surface, though it’s futile — a few escape and trail down your cheeks to collect on Bucky’s thumbs. Those three pesky words fight to spill from your heart and out into the open, to hang in the closing distance between Bucky and you. 

But somehow, it doesn’t seem like the right time. A fragile moment that while you know could truly never break, uttering those words feels like it will shatter the last of your resolve. 

And so, you save them; sealing your mouth closed with a sworn promise to let them go soon. 

Seconds go by as you collect yourself, and then you manage in a choked voice, “My, my — What have you done with my Bucky?” 

“He’s still here,” Bucky vows. “You just make me so dizzy — so goddamn fuckin’ dizzy — that I’ll spill whatever comes to mind.” 

That makes two of you.

You place your hands over his, still encapsulating your face. “Well, you certainly know how to make a girl swoon, handsome.”

His lips turn upwards in a lopsided grin that shows a slither of his pearly whites. “I would find a way to pull the moon out of the sky if you asked me to, Buttercup.” 

There is no doubt in your heart over that — Bucky would go to the ends of the earth for you. But you didn’t need that, you have everything you could wish for already in the palm of your hands. “Lucky for you, I’ll only ask for a dance underneath it.” 

Bucky’s lopsided grin turns into a thousand-watt smile, as bright as the stars above you both. “Now that is something I can make happen.” 

There’s no music, no beat for the two of you to follow, but that doesn't stop Bucky from gathering you closer to his chest — his arms cross over your back to pull you flush with his front. 

You turn your head to the side and lay your cheek against him, wrapping your arms around his neck to better hold him. 

The steady rhythm of his heart guides the steps to your dance, the slow sway side to side of your bodies. You feel the brush of his lips at your temple, then he mutters something under his breath; a barely there string of unintelligible words that do nothing but add to the peace of the moment. 

Bucky sighs and hugs you tighter. 

The night is only just beginning. 

Part Three

[benn--10]

Time Travel AU where the Axolotl sends Bill back but with a fun surprise- he's got the body of a human female. Only this body is what the celestial salamander thinks is a human, and Bill is very much still a chaos demon. Don't be mistaken by his appearance, he's here to manipulate Ford and ensure his plans work out, this time. (Even if Ford is incredibly flustered because a naked woman just appeared in the middle of his study and it has the voice of his... triangle? Gosh, she's still very much naked, he just gives her- him, that's Bill Cipher his muse, Ford just gives him his coat)

[smileysuh]

crossroads - TEASER

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu & Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. If one neighbour is a Doberman, then the other is a Golden Retriever. They’re like night and day, and yet, you’re drawn to both, as if some gravitational or celestial power is pulling you to them… it also helps that they both have motorcycles. How had it been so easy to ghost Wonwoo in the past, only to find yourself at a crossroads with his roommate seven months later?

tw/cw. Threesome, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, big dick Mingyu, creampie, oral (f/m receiving), blow job, deep throating, hand job, Eiffel tower/spit roasting, breast worship, nipple pinching, nipple licking, panty kink, eating pussy through panties, fingering, squirting, pussy stretching, praise, dirty talk, ‘sir’, dom!Wonwoo, switch!mingyu, blindfold/sensory deprivation, voyeurism, listening to your neighbour have sex, masturbation, reader reads erotica, mutual masturbation, slight dacryphilia, blind fold/sensory deprivation, inklings of humiliation, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, baby. (Mingyu’s) gyu. (Wonwoo’s) sir. 

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 19.8k

🍭 aus. Biker!meanie, booktok!reader, neighbours!au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. This was not supposed to be this long. I don’t know how this happened. 

You head back to your bedroom… which is where you find Mingyu flipping through the most recent book you’ve been reading.

Your heart lurches into your throat, body freezing in the doorway. 

“I didn’t know you read this sort of thing,” Mingyu muses, looking up at you.

“What?” you squeak.

“Erotica,” he responds casually. “This seems interesting though.”

You slowly approach the bed, joining Mingyu under the covers while he reaches to put your book back on your nightstand. 

“Uh…” you don’t even know what to say. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.”

Mingyu laughs, pulling you close to his chest. “Why not? It’s not like I’m judging you.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. Why would I? I think I read somewhere that men like visual porn and women lean towards the written stuff, nothing to be ashamed of.”

He really is the perfect man.

“Plus, I keep seeing shit on tiktok about booktok girls needing their bikertok boy, I don’t mind filling that role for you.” Another nonchalant comment that makes your heart do somersaults. “Although… aren’t all of you booktok girls into masked men and threesomes and shit?”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.2k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr Friday, April 12nd, 2024

🔮 see what’s already available to read on my m.list

the link for the fic will be posted here when it's on tumblr :)

[americas-ass-writing]

The Celestial Bond

Steve Rogers x reader

Words: ~4k

Summary: Your friends the stars reunite you with an old friend that missed you just like you missed him.

Warnings: family trauma, reader feeling unloved, inaccurate royal au probably ... I think that's it? If not please don't hesitate to reach out

Author's Note: This is my entry for the Horny Hoes Hootenanny by the sweet @yenzys-lucky-charm and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork 💙 I'm so sorry this is late, the muse has left me but I finally managed to end it 🥰 The prompt I used was 🍁 "Here, take my sweater/coat/scarf/jacket/mittens" and Stargazing which I rolled in their little raffle 🥰 also I'm super impressed I wrote 4k words for this???

Divider by @saradika-graphics

For a long time it's just been you and the stars. Just you and the glowing orbs in the sky. Every now and then a owl that would hoot or you'd hear other animal sounds as you sat at the edge of the woods. The stars and the noises were your only friends nowadays.

Once upon a time you had friends... a friend. You'd often stargaze with him, until he had to leave. His departure marked the beginning of loss... not loss in a sense that people died but loss of friendship, of kind people around you, of your families favour.

It's not like they ever loved you, they accepted you but were not keen to have to help you. But if you were of help they liked to keep you around. Eventually they grew tired of you and became more cruel. They never got physical but their words cut deeper than any knife could have.

So eventually you left, clearly not wanted there. You took everything you owned and marched to the village on the outside of your kingdom.

It was dangerous there for sure. If a war with the neighbouring kingdom started it would be the first place to be hit. But it was cheap and you were able to rent a room over a barn with what little you had saved and nowadays earned. It wasn't much but it was home.

You worked odd jobs around the village to survive and luckily it was enough. With no special talents that are of use to work in any service you had to fall back on the jobs no one wanted to do. Clean the stables, collect hard to reach plants in the woods and so on.

Even the people of the village didn't want anything to do with you besides paying you to do the odd jobs.

Sometimes you thought about moving on to the next village but nobody would want you there either. Surviving would be harder and who knew if you'd see the stars as good as you did here? The stars, your only companions.

The energy in the air was weird today. Your little village at unease because some guards and royalty from the other kingdom travelled through earlier. Nobody knows what the royal visit would bring. Maybe they truly were just on their way through? Hopefully whatever business leads them to your king will be settled peacefully. You go about your day doing your odd jobs to earn enough money.

It's late in the afternoon when you carry some filled water buckets back to the bakery. The well is far away and the baker doesn't have time to get the supplies he needs for the evening so it's your job to do. You're just about to cross the main road when a guard from earlier with long brown hair rides past you. You take a step back to let the royal entourage through and the guard nods to you as if to say thank you for waiting. You watch them pass by. First the brown haired guard with a second next to him who even sends you, a peasant, a dashing smile.

The carriage follows. It's dark blue with golden ornaments. The most beautiful thing you've seen besides those blue eyes who watch you intently from inside. Quickly realising it must be a royal from the other kingdom you lower your head in respect.

The carriage drives past you and the last guards, a blonde man with a quiver on his back and a red haired woman pass by on their horses. Both don't pay much attention to you, exept another nod to thank you for waiting. You're confused and look after them for a moment before you hear the baker call for you from across the road. You pick up the buckets again and hurry over to fulfill your job.

With the few coins earned today and a leftover dry loaf of bread you make your way home. In your mind still plays the respect those guards or knights have shown you today. It's been the kindest thing that happened to you in a long time.

You're back in your spot late in the evening. You can't stay up for too long so you're happy the days are a bit shorter now. The stars greet you as if you're old friends, to a degree you are. They've heard many of your woes... If they could hear you quietly talk to yourself.

You lean your head back on the tree behind you, looking up at the sparkling night sky. You still know a few constellations by heart even after all these years. Others you don't know, you wish you did but that information was not meant for you. For some uneducated peasant trying to make ends meet. You wish your friend could have stayed longer all those years ago. He knew all about them and taught you what he knew. But he had to leave just as sudden as the stars leave when the sunrise rolls in.

Dry leaves crunching behind you get your attention. Steps. But not from an animal... those are human steps. You quickly get up, hiding behind the tree, watching who might approach. It's a tall, muscular figure. Long blond hair and a beard to match. The closer he comes the more details you see and soon those same blue eyes who watched you earlier fall upon you again. The person in the carriage?

You blink at him dumbfounded and take in the new details revealed by the moonlight. Brown boots, dark pants, white shirt and a dark blue cloak with an ornate design. The closer you look the more it looks like stars but your mind forces you not to dwell on it too long. This is clearly a royal or at least someone with a higher standing than you. You hurry to curtsey but his hand stops you.

"Please don't... You, especially you will never have to bow for me" his voice was smooth like honey, deep and comforting. It strangely gave you a feeling of safety and... home. You blink at him confused and he moves closer to you slowly, as if not to spook you.

His eyes wander over you and when they meet yours they seem to have found an answer to a question you don't know. You're glued to the spot you're standing just by his look alone. What would a royal want from you? Why shouldn't you bow? Did he need a new chambermaid? That probably paid well... You could maybe even do more than survive.

Your name from his lips pulls you from your mind. Your eyes snap to his and your brows knit in confusion. "How do you..." The question stays unfinished as he takes another step closer to you.

"It's me... Steve." He says softly. "Your Stevie" he adds in an almost hopeful tone. Your head shakes on its on as you try to process. This man in front of you couldn't be your Stevie. He was small, scrawny, soft... And yet the man in front of you had the same brilliant kind eyes, his voice sounded similar enough and the dirty blond of his hair matched too. How... Your Stevie was a royal? It would explain why he never came back...

Another step and he's right in front of you. With hesitation he takes your hands in his, his eyes searching yours. "Please... Please tell me you remember me." He whispers, almost desperate. "Please. I never forgot you. Always thought of you when I watched the stars at night, often dreamed of you. Of us reuniting." He adds, his words spoke nothing but truth.

"Why didn't you come back?" was the only thing able to leave your scrambled brain. His eyes turned sad and he briefly glanced away. "I wanted to... But" a brief sigh. "My father died... He. He was the king of Brooken. My mother and me left because he was cruel but when he died... We had to return. My mother took her rightful place as queen before the Rumlows could take over and rage war upon the lands. I couldn't stay. I'm so sorry... We should have taken you along." His hands squeezed yours softly.

"You're... The prince of Brooken?" You ask, looking over him once more. "The king of Brooken... I had to take over once I came off age." He explains. "A king?" Your eyes grow wide as he nods.

"But I'm still your Stevie. I may look different but I'm still your friend... Which is why when I saw you today I knew I had to come back. Find you. I was hoping you'd stargaze tonight." He admits. "I want to bring you back to my kingdom. Give you the life you deserve." He whispers, his eyes holding nothing but earnest and something else... something adoring.

"The life I deserve?" You ask, confusion clear in your face. His hands let go of yours and move to softly cup your face.

"Yes... A life with no worries, no hard work, full of people who love you" his warmth seeps through your skin and spreads around your face. His promise of a better life sounds good. And since it was your Stevie you're sure he'd keep it. A tiny part of your brain was hesitant to accept. You'd been alone for so long, you're not quite sure there's another option for you but as you look into his eyes and see the warmth they hold for you you're convinced. You nod as much as you can with his big hands cupping your face still and a brilliant smile takes over his face.

With the few belongings you wanted to take along packed you make your way to where he left his horse. He gently lifts you up before mounting behind you. His strong arms caging you into their safety as you lean back. The ride isn't too long but still takes some time. Every now and then the slowly thinning tree tops let the stars and moonlight shine through, your friends watching you as your knight in shining armour takes you home. The stars first brought you together and now helped you find your way back to each other. You smile as they twinkle down at you, as if they're winking at you.

Steve's warmth soon isn't enough as the temperature drops. He notices your shivers and slows his horse down to a stop. "Here, take my cloak" is whispered as he drapes it carefully over your shoulders, closing the button on the front so it wouldn't fall off. He carefully arranges it around to make sure the cold can't get to you. "Thank you" you say softly, looking back at him as he gives you another brilliant smile before riding off.

The sun is just coming up as you arrive at the castle. The last remains of the stars slowly fading away. You're glad they watched over your and Steve's journey back to his beautiful home.

The castle was impressive, grey stones with moss between them. The city in front of it big and beautiful. It looked well taken care of and deep in your heart you knew your Stevie would take care of his people. His horse slowly trotts through the round gate into the walls of the castle. You're greeted with a stunning fountain in the middle of a courtyard and an unimpressed redhead. You've seen her the day before.

"Care to explain why you snuck out without telling anyone where you went to?" She snaps at the man behind you. He stops his horse and shifts a bit. "I've been back in Evrat" he says calmly as if this woman wasn't furious at him. He dismounts his horse and gently helps you down.

"Evrat? Without protection? Steve!" She sounds exhausted. "You could have at the very least have taken Bucky!" Her hands are in the air before they find their place at her hips.

"You know I couldn't have done that. Because it would have woken you. And you either wouldn't have let me go or you would have told Ma." You perk up at that. His mom was still alive. She was here.

"Yeah because it's stupid to go to Evrat on your own. And for what? A woman?" She looked at you but her face gave away that she meant no offense. "Not just a woman. She's my friend! I couldn't lose her again. Not when I've spent years trying to find her." He argued, dropping the calm suddenly. He's met with a huff of frustration and a sigh.

"I'm in charge of your protection. I can't protect you if you manipulate my job. Steve... I would have come with you." Her face full of worry. "What if something would have happened?"

"I can protect myself Nat." Just as stubborn as you remember him. She lets out another huff and rolls her eyes but drops the topic, knowing fully well that arguing with Steve was senseless. Stepping closer she extends one of her hands to you. You blink at it for a moment but decide to take up her offer. She introduces herself as Natasha and you give her your name. With a nod she looks back to Steve. "Never again." Her finger pointing in his face as she warns him amuses you. As if she wasn't talking to her king. But the king in question gives her a sheepish smile in return, no anger or offense like any other king would conjure. "We'll see about that." He teases before he turns back to you.

Natasha rolls her eyes and marches off towards the brunette guard you've seen yesterday. He seems amused at her frustration and follows her inside.

Your attention is pulled back to the man in front of you. Your Stevie. He smiles softly and takes your hand in his before he leads you inside the castle.

His cloak swishes around you as you follow him through the castle. He has given you a little tour and introduced you to the most important people. Bucky, the brunette guard from yesterday and earlier, his friend even before he met you. Buckys eyes are curious as he eyes you but he stays silent. Next up is Sam, the one who gave you a brilliant smile yesterday.

"Don't worry about Bucky, he's the broody kind" he jokes with another smile as he shakes your hand. "You know what Wilson?" Bucky starts and Steve softly pulls you away from their bickering. "You'll get used to it." He chuckles lowly and directs your gaze to the blonde man from yesterday. "This is Clint, best marksman in the kingdom." Clint gives you another nod and stretches out his hand for you to take. You smile and gently shake it, introducing yourself. Natasha simply gives you another nod.

"Your mom is waiting for you at breakfast." She says, one of her eyebrows lifting at Steve. The later breaks out in a excited grin. "Mom will be so excited to see you again!" He exclaims before he takes your hand and leaves Clint and Natasha with the still bickering men.

The room you enter is warm and cozy. The dark wood of the furniture stands out against the muted tones of the fabrics that are spread around the room. There's fresh flowers on the table surrounded by all kinds of delicious food that up until now you've never even dreamt of eating. Steve squeezes your hand and leads you inside.

"Ah Steve. How generous of you to grace me with your presence" an older blond woman walks in through one of the side doors smirking, clearly teasing with her son. She's dressed in a blue robe with a sun pattern and stops short when she spies you. A few blinks later she sets herself in motion again to cup your face, her smile turning watery. "Oh my little sweetheart" she whispers, her eyes full of adoration before she hugs you tight. You melt into her motherly embrace, your heart filling with warmth. It's been a long time since you had someone being so sincere and joyed to see you. And that after all these years she clearly still remembered you? It brought tears to your own eyes. When she pulls back she's quick to wipe them away, giving you a soft smile. The skin around her eyes crinkles as she does so which reminds you just how long you haven't seen the both of them.

"I'm so glad to have you with us." She says after she whispered your name. "Please sit, eat. You must be starving!" She softly pulls you to the table and makes you sit on one of the plush chairs. Steve follows behind, a fond smile on his face as he watches you two interact. He sits down next to you and starts pouring himself some tea before his mother calls for another set of porcelain. She sits on the other side of you and holds your hand between hers, studying your face.

"You've grown into a beautiful young woman my dear" she says after a moment of silence, her blue eyes shining as they flit over your face. Steve has so many features of her. The later places a cup and plate in front of you and starts preparing your tea for you. Always caring the two of them.

Breakfast is filled with questions, answers and laughter. You're well fed and so happy after you're done. Sarah almost won't let you leave her sight but her son convinces her to let you go. At least to wash up and change your clothes. With your hand in his you follow him through the castle to a room - your room.

It's bright and sunny inside. The four poster bed is surrounded by white see through curtains. There's a vanity across from it and a fireplace nestled between two big windows. You're speechless as you take it in. This was bigger than anywhere you've lived and this was only for guests?

"I'll have the tailor make some dresses for you. For now Natasha has put some in the dresser for you to chose from. Two maids will be here soon to draw you a bath and help you." Steve explains softly as he watches you. You brush your fingertips over the soft bedding and look to him. Bathed in sunlight his hair is almost glowing like a halo. "Don't worry this won't be your room for long. They're getting yours ready at the moment. I want it to be perfect for you." He admits as he steps closer once more. You frown but before you can protest that this is more than enough he cups your cheek with one hand. His eyes are searching yours for a moment. Something flits through them and it's then that you can see him decide something. His hand drops and instead he hugs you tight.

"I missed you... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I had to leave you behind. I should have taken care of you, made sure you're safe... I... I'm sorry" his voice is full of emotions as he hugs you tighter. You're about to say something back but he continues. "But I'll take care of you now. You'll never have to miss out on anything. Your word is my command, I'll do anything for you. I'll make sure you're loved and taken care of." He pulls back a bit, his eyes are full of determination and you can see he's not saying something but before you can ask two young women walk in. They bow their heads in front of their king and Steve gives them a smile.

"I'll leave you to it... Once you're done can you inform me?" He looks at one of the maids who nods in return. "Thank you. Take good care of her. The whole relaxing experience okay?" He turns back to you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'll see you in a bit" he whispers as his arms fall to his sides. He takes you in one more time before he leaves.

The bath was strange but wonderful. It's weird to you that someone would assist you in washing yourself but you'd never felt so clean, relaxed and never smelled so good before. You were dressed in a beautiful dress and the women helped you braid your hair. You were so thankful and expressed such which was a bit surprising to them.

Once you were done one of them flitted off to tell Steve you were and within a few minutes he entered your room with a dashing smile.

"You look beautiful" he says softly as he approaches you. You blush as you thank him and try to avoid his eyes but he has different plans. His fingers softly lift your chin so he can look into your eyes. Your stomach feels like a million butterflies dance in it as you look into his beautiful blue ones. He truly was handsome and so kind to you. How could you not have feelings for him? Especially so fast. But he was a king and you were a mere commoner... nothing would ever develop out of your stupid crush.

"Your room is done. Would you like to see it?" Steve asks, his eyes still looking into yours. You nod hesitantly and are met with another dashing smile. He softly takes your hand in his and leads you through the castle. You stop in front of the door next to his room, you remember from the tour he gave you earlier. Your brows furrow a bit. Wasn't the room next to the kings reserved for his queen? Before you can address it and ask Steve about it he opens the door to a sunlit beautiful room. It's bigger than the first room you've been in and decorated in mostly white and and light blue. The bedding is a dark blue with white stitching. When you look closer it's a thousand little stars stitched into the dark blue fabric. You're in awe at that alone.

“I… this is my room? Steve…” he squeezes your hand and looks at you. “It is. Do you like it?” His eyes look hopeful as he asks his silly question. “Like it? I love it! It's breathtaking… thank you” you smile at him before you decide to hug him. He's done more than enough for you but now he gives you such a wonderful room too? “But… it's right next to yours. Doesn't that make it the bridal suite?” You ask and he tenses a bit in your arms.

“Yes… it is.” He licks his lips as he looks at you. “So I need to move out once you get married?” You look from his lips to his eyes. He shakes his head, he seems to be contemplating. “No. Yes? If… you… I mean.” He takes a deep breath and suddenly looks determined. “I want you to be my bride. My future queen. My love. So you wouldn't have to move out unless you want to share my bed.” He says and your jaw almost drops to the floor. You? A queen?

As if he can sense your inner turmoil he softly cups your face again. “You'd be more than perfect being a queen. And you deserve it. You deserve a good life with people who love you. They'll all do… I'll just love you most” he adds the last part in a whisper. You look at him, still a bit unsure but before your thoughts tell you otherwise he softly kisses you. All doubts are out of your brain immediately as his lips softly move against yours.

He loves you. He truly does. And he'll be making sure you'll always feel that way, you'll never only have the stars on your side… now you have him too.

[ryin-silverfish]

Ask/Writing Masterlist (irregularly updating)

Ryin(阿璎), 23. She/They. First Gen Chinese student. Ryin_Silverfish on AO3. Currently hyperfixating on old Chinese novels. casual Zhiguai tales and LMK enjoyer.

Investiture of the Gods/FSYY:

Why are the Daoist immortals fighting?

Did Yuanshi Tianzun manipulate Shen Gongbao?

Chan, Jie, and possible prejudice against yaoguai

Azure Lion and the other Bodhisattvas' steeds in FSYY

Daji's fox form in FSYY Pinghua

The historical Su Daji

Is Shen Gongbao a yaoguai?

Are all yaoguai irredeemable monsters in FSYY?

Ao Bing and the dragons Nezha fought

Does deification wipe your memory and personality?

Bi Gan and the Great Fox Massacre

More discussion about prejudice against yaoguai

How old was Su Daji the human when she died?

Differences between FSYY novel and Pinghua

Musing on FSYY's view of fate and its possible effects on Yang Jian

Master Yuding

The messy marriages of FSYY

Is Daji a goddess in the novel?

Names of immortal masters in FSYY

Just for fun: the FSYY drinking game

Nezha's age in FSYY

Nezha's death and resurrection in FSYY

What happened to the original Daji?

Lady Shiji aka the Rock Demoness

Chinese Fox Spirits:

Auspicious/Demonic Foxes

More on fox spirits

The inner core of foxes

Foxes and their association with Fire

Notable fox spirits

The foxes of 狐狸缘全传

Has Daji ever been worshipped as a goddess?

Fox masks

The foxes of Liaozhai

Weaknesses and abilities of fox spirits

Three resource collections on Chinese fox spirits: 1, 2, 3

Human-fox hybrids

Can foxes and their descendents magically know if someone's telling the truth?

The magical properties of fox saliva

Fox exams and Heavenly Foxes

Are male foxes more malicious?

More on fox exams

Offerings to fox spirits

The "Lady Fox Immortal"

Chinese Mythos in General:

The Precious Scroll of Erlang

Into the Erlang-verse: Li, Zhao, Yang

Can immortal masters romance their students?

Why we don't power-rank characters in God-Demon novels

A brief overview of Chang'e

On Chinese Religion and "Respect"

The 28 Lunar Mansions

Can the Heavenly Emperor be replaced + a primer on dynastic successions

A Guide to the Chinese Underworld (and what it isn't)

Is Nüwa JE's daughter?

Weaver Girl

Can yaoguais a/o their descendents enter the Celestial Bureaucracy?

Queen Mother of the West and her husband(s)

Bixia Yuanjun, Lady of Mt. Tai

Erlang's dad

The story that gives us the name "Yang Jian"

On the transformation of Erlang's image (and his relationship with JE in JTTW)

Erlang's mom, Lotus Lantern, and a neat little discovery

Erlang cameos in other stories and Zajus

Erlang's mom-saving story in Chinese operas

Child Manjushri, or: the absurdity of pinning a definitive age on gods

The strange modern ship of Mengpo/Yuelao, and Mengpo's myths

The half-beast form of QMoW

Does Erlang have a wife/love interest?

Nezha's mom

A overview of Gonggong and his mythos

Some introductory sources on the Chinese Underworld

A side-by-side comparison of Nezha's backstory in JTTW and FSYY

Mythos-inspired Worldbuilding:

Dragons of the Four Seas

LMK S5 and a possible "Celestial Council of Regents" AU

LMK S5 Fix-it: the Four Divine Beasts

Character/Story Analysis (JTTW + LMK)

Heart and Mind: Tripitaka

Local Lion Uncle enjoyer goes on a rant

On SWK and his fear of death

Why the Dead People Supreme Court?

No, seriously, why?

Chinese Underworld =/= Christian Hell

LMK S4, Havoc in Heaven, and revolutions

Why I dislike the "class warfare" reading of Havoc in Heaven

In Defence of Li Jing...ha, as fucking if

On Yin-Yang, Chaos/Order, and the Harbringer

JTTW's view on the Three Religions

Disjointed S5 Reactions

"Chaos doesn't work that way in traditional Chinese Cosmology"

Xiangliu, the Nine-headed Bird, and Jiutou Chong

Lotus Lantern: The Summaries

Part 1: Precious Scroll of Chenxiang

Part 2: The Epic of Prince Chenxiang

Part 3: Lotus Lantern 1.0 + 2.0

Part 4: Chenxiang and the Male-Female Swords

My Fanfics:

Climbing the Sky

The Wild Son

Bodhicitta

The Serpent and the Deluge

South Seas Sojourn

Journey of the Gods AU sideblog

[coxxxmo]

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝

[0] 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗟𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿

Masterlist

Dear Future Husband,

To you who has taken away my solitude through the storms in your eyes, to you who has taken over all of my living dreams,your gaze is a tempest that renders my world beautifully chaotic - I hope this letter finds its way to you dearest one.

Tell me, is there a new envoy in your company? Passing my messages to you? Does the moon whisper to you the musings I’ve shared about you? Has it told you of my deepest desires? In the quiet of the night, lately I have been finding solace in the company of the moon. I’ve been telling it all about you - your beautiful smile that makes my heart stop, your laughter that resonates like a melody in my mind, your eyes that stir something unknown deep within me, your voice that echoes within me and the heaven knows, I just can’t seem to get you out of my head.

Like the faceless man in my dreams, you have been haunting me; You have been haunting me with your whirlpool of existence which is sure to stir up my entire world if I get too close. 

But Isn't it romantic that, beneath the vast expanse of the same sky, we share a celestial connection? As we both look upon the stars that decorate the night sky, the same moon that graces your night sky also bathes mine in its gentle glow, creating a luminous thread that connects both of us. 

I’ll be honest; I’m not exactly sure how this love letter thing works, but all I know is that I can’t stop thinking about kissing you. Archons, I crave you, and I crave your touch. The idea of us kissing feels like a storm inside me, and I can't help but want you close to myself.

When I think about holding your hand and drawing little patterns with our fingers, it feels like magic. There's something pulling me towards you, and it's stronger than anything else. These feelings feel new to me and I'm still figuring them out like getting lost in a maze. Even then my heart always seems to point toward you, and each day, that pull becomes even stronger.

With each word, I'm sharing a part of my heart. As I fold this letter and seal it with a kiss, it holds not just my words but the promise of the future yet you come. Until our paths cross, and until the day I can call you mine. I send this letter off to the unknown, leaving it at the hands of the fates weaving our story.

Yours Lovingly.

⤷ Synopsis :

In a world dominated by algorithms and measured affections, where love is dissected as a complex equation, Will the pursuit of love transcend the boundaries of logic? Can the heart, guided by a mere letter, lead to a connection that defies reason?

Are you willing to take the journey where the lines between reason and romance blur? Will you be drawn into a completely different world, or will your story continue along its familiar course?

But above all, the burning question remains: whose doorstep will become the final destination for this seemingly innocuous letter?

Modern!au

⤷ pairing : genshin men x reader

⤷ taglist : @sako-mii @oni-girx @chevcore @moonlybxbe @rachoka @sangoqueenkoko @veekoko

⤷ a/n : AHHHHH IM DONE WRITING THE LETTER AFTER AGES. It was harder than it seemed I'll be honest....BUT now that the story starts It'll be much more fun, trust me. Hoping that the other parts are more regular..

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

Lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!!

[marukyubi]

Octobie Content [Comfort week]

Pairing - Hobie Brown x fem reader

comfort, au, fluff, short drabble Banners by - @mushroom-graphics-allotment for the Octobie of @the-kr8tor (Their banners are very lovely. And Katy's works are just chef kiss! Go support them!!)

Imagine there is the very concept of life materialized in a human form, and so is death.

They were living among humans during the dark ages, and one day Life suddenly reveals something humanly trivia of himself while Death is enjoying her little human tricks and things on the pouch table on the sunny side. “By the way, my name is Hobart now,” he says, like it’s just an everyday event. “Hobart Brown, or Hobie, as they call me ‘round the town. Been wanting to tell you about this.” “You- WHAT!!?” Shocked Death yells at him from knitting, a confused frown apparent on her face. “Out of all names available, you chose… HOBERT!?” “Not Hobert,” He gasps like he’s offended to be called such a ridiculous name, though his expression changes to an amused one soon after. “It’s Hobart, but you can call me Hobie as the mortals do-” “It’s still equally bad,” she groans. “Also, you can’t be named something just because people called you something. You’re ��Life’.” “Yes, I very much can, my sweet sweet, gloomy Death,” He argues back, his wood cutting pace still not getting low despite the conversation and scattered concentration. “Also, it’s a gift of endearment, them feeling thankful for my help and all. I think it is… lovely.” “No, you cannot.” Death muses with an eye roll. “The dying kids call me ‘Angel’ as well, but I did not become one. Like, even if I just said that ‘we are a married couple now’, it didn’t come true right? Because just a few spoken words cannot break the very law of-” “Yes, we are.” He speaks up before she can finish. “We’re husband and wife now.” With a mischievous grin, he walks up to her knitting table, throwing away the task on hand. “What?” Her head peaks up from the incomplete scarf with confusion, laughing at him walking up to her like he’s up to something mischievous in his cheeky little plans. “Life, what are you-” “Hush now, dear,” he says and leaves a light peck on her forehead as he cages her down with his many arms made of celestial dust, something she’s used to now. “We both know we’re meant to be a pair.” “A pair to keep the world in harmony, not a pair in bed.” “We both know it’s just a bullshit rule, my point still stands, and you know we already are both despite that, lovie~” A laugh bellows from her chest and gives into his arms that’s caging her, embracing in each other’s warmth and cold. “Oh, yes. Fine,” she groans with softly muffled chuckles. “But you know damn well that we weren’t supposed to be.” He hums in disapproval, begrudgingly taking the soft kisses she’s landing on his cold, sweaty cheeks in hopes that he’d be a little less grumpy. “Oh, how lively you are, my dear. You make my already hard job far far worse, you know that?” She asks with mumbled murmurs from his arms that squishing and relishing their partner with both love and protection. “You know too well that your existence is why I’m treasured by mortals all across the realms so, stop speaking like otherwise.” He warns her and gives her another warning peck before picking his dear Death across his shoulder.  “Or you’ll be smothered in my lively smooching session in bed all day and night till everyone turns immortal.” “No, you can’t!?” She squeals back in soft whimpers, words slurred from being held upside down. Trying to wiggle away from his grip but meets with another; “Yes, I can. And yes, I will. So, hush now. It’s time to rest your human body.” “Wait, I have so many things left to finish! Hobie, my scarf!” Though the dear Death protests and pleads to Life with many heartfelt giggles, he remains stern still on his stand, lecturing her of how fragile mortal bodies are and that they need thorough care as he wraps her tight in a blanket before joining her in the bed, no matter her muffled murmurs of how she already knows it. Also about how costy medicare would be if they would ever need a healer. “We can just heal ourselves, dear. This body is a mere made-pretend.” She argues back with a huff and suppressed laughter. “Shhh,” he hushes her again by feeding sliced berries. “It doesn’t change that the nearest village’s healer is still expensive.” “Hey, I’m that healer!”

The little coven has never failed to let out their laughter from the heart to the passerby till the very last of the soul has moved on from the soil of the earth to the afterlife.

This is my attempt at writing some comfort and also trying to post on Tumblr. It was fun doing this. I wish I could participate more but my creative juice is drained by my exam TvT I hope yall will enjoy this little shot<3 -Maru

[nephalem-da]

Welcome One and All!

˙⋆✮Masterlist✮⋆˙

Bill Cipher x OC

△ One-Shot Stories (Events)

After the Fall

Synopsis: After destroying their home dimension, Bill Cipher struggles with guilt, especially as he comforts a grieving Maeloraelis.

A Chaotic Proposal

Synopsis: Encouraged by his Henchmaniac friends, Bill Cipher awkwardly proposes to Maeloraelis, using human traditions he's unfamiliar with.

Morbid Musings

Synopsis: Bill Cipher shares his dark and quirky thoughts with his wife, Maeloraelis, during a quiet moment together.

Nostalgic Chaos

Synopsis: After accidentally transforming into a baby version of himself, Bill Cipher becomes a clingy and mischievous handful for his wife, Maeloraelis. As she struggles to care for the infantile Bill, she’s reminded of their childhood together.

A Day of Demonic Babysitting

Synopsis: When Maeloraelis takes a break for a girl's night out, Bill Cipher is left to care for their mischievous baby, Elara. Confident at first, Bill quickly realizes that keeping up with his chaotic daughter is more exhausting than expected.

Unlikely Partnership

Synopsis: When Bill Cipher's wife, Maeloraelis, makes a surprise entrance at the Mystery Shack, the Pines family is shocked that someone as chaotic as Bill could have a partner.

Elara's Playdate

Synopsis: Bill Cipher drops off his mischievous baby daughter, Elara, with the unsuspecting Pines family while he celebrates his anniversary.

Celestial Bonds AU

Prologue || Ch. 1 || Ch. 2

△ Art Doodles

First Meeting

Baby Bill and Baby Mae meeting for the first time :D

Family Shenanigans

Meet Baby Elara Cipher!

Little Triangles, Big Dreams

More Baby Bill and Baby Mae art!

Bill Cipher x Reader

△ Headcanons

Headcanons for Life with a Triangle

Soft!Bill x Gn!Reader

˙⋆✮Request✮⋆˙

Open!

Info and Rules!

Sarcastically Yours

Summary: Bill Cipher, the sarcastic demon, realizes he has feelings for you, and he does a terrible job hiding it. Meanwhile, you’re completely oblivious, and everyone else is suffering through the awkwardness, waiting for you both to figure it out.

The Hunt Pt 2 Alt Pt 2

Summary: Bill Cipher is a skilled hunter who captures you, a rare mythical Selkie, after an intense chase through the forest. Proud of his prize, he shows you off to the Henchmaniacs.

Breaking Point Pt 2(End)

Summary: After reaching your limit with Bill Cipher's chaotic behavior, you snap and confront him, leaving Bill stunned and remorseful. Now, both of you must navigate through an emotional journey of healing and reconciliation.

Caught In A Hug

Summary: After a rough week, you're too tired to deal with Bill Cipher's antics. When he appears, you pull him into an unexpected cuddle, ignoring his dramatic protests.

Eternal Echoes

Summary: Bill Cipher's long-lost lover reincarnates as a human, and he obsessively haunts her dreams to rekindle their past love. But when she remembers his destructive nature, she's forced to choose between her family and the chaotic being she once cherished.

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

~Celestial Muse~

inspired by an AU idea I had a while ways back called "Celestial Muse" where an art student initially visits the Pizzaplex for sketch assignments and ends up meeting the DCA. Sun and Moon share a body in this one.

It is very self-indulgent qwq

[burningcheese-merchant]

I'm stuck on a train for the next 5 hours, so I'm choosing to lash out at @cuppajj specifically by barging in on the Beast Ancients AU again and having my little fan baby Pepper Jack continue with the crushing loneliness and longing for connection wrought by this godforsaken world he's randomly been trapped in, as per the previous installment

"But Merchant, you sort of wanted to do this anyway" yeah, well, the dummy missile strike got moved up. It's early. Gotta make do on that ACME deposit, they don't do refunds

Just gonna call this "The Skeleton in the Closet" because that's sort of who Spice seems to be here and who/what Jack is essentially talking to

"Father?" Pepper Jack called out, a slight ache in his throat from trying to control the volume of his voice. "I'm here."

No answer - none besides the usual hum of the machines that filled his ears as he flew down to the bottom floor of the laboratory, evading the stairs entirely. Fair enough, he supposed.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he said as he approached the container. "Celestial Cheese kept me again. Kept fussing over me like she always does. I had to wait until I knew the hallways were empty to come."

He stopped and stood mere inches from the edge of that hulking monstrosity of steel and glass, staring down at the man trapped within. A frown began to tug at the corners of his lips.

"She..." He paused, looking away. "She doesn't leave me alone often. She's always hovering over me, talking to me... or talking AT me, I guess. I don't really think she listens to me when it's my turn to talk."

Another pause before he shook his head and turned to face his "father" again. "No, that doesn't matter. What matters is... you."

Gone was the frown now - and in its place, a small, tentative smile. "How are you? How have you been?"

He placed his hand on the glass, near Burning Spice's face. Where, at the angle Pepper Jack stood and peered into the strange red liquid, it looked as though his little hand was resting on his cheek. "Did, um... Did you have good dreams while I was gone?"

What did Burning Spice dream of in there, Pepper Jack wondered? What images danced on the insides of his eyelids? What imaginary sounds drummed against the walls of his skull? What thoughts and memories flooded his slumbering mind as he lay still as death inside of his prison?

"I want to say that I did, but... that wouldn't be true." That frown was starting to come back. "I... I never slept much. I always get up when the sun does, no matter when I actually go to sleep. It's why Mother always nags me to go to bed early. But... here, in this place, I can't sleep at all. The harder I try, the wider awake I get. I'm... I'm too scared to sleep here, I think. And then whenever I manage to, I have nightmares. My fears follow me into my head. Into my dreams."

He curled his fingers against the glass, in an attempt at a comforting gesture he knew would go unappreciated. "I hope whatever you see in your dreams isn't as terrible as what I see in mine."

The glass felt cold against his cheek when he laid his head against it - like it always did, whenever he did such a thing. But he did so anyway, pushing past his instinctive disdain for the cold and into what he imagined to be Burning Spice's shoulder.

"I wonder if you'd sleep at all, if it weren't for this," Pepper Jack mused. "My father... Mother always says he's like a light switch at night. Awake one moment, asleep the next. Are you like that, too? Or is that something else Celestial Cheese took away from you?"

Pressing his ear down and listening yielded no sound he could consider a response. Even if he was desperate for just one.

"Maybe... Maybe if you weren't trapped in there, we could sit somewhere and stay awake together. We could talk or play games. We could tell each other stories. You... You must know different ones from my father, right? Because you're different from him, technically? I bet they're really interesting. I'd like it if you told me them."

They had to be better than Celestial Cheese's stories, if nothing else at all. But perhaps his thoughts on the matter were tainted by his hatred of her voice.

"I..." Though he fought against it, a yawn nevertheless rose from his throat and pried his lips open, louder than he'd wanted it to be. "I'm tired. I can't sleep. I actually thought about waiting until tomorrow to see you, but... I didn't want to be alone."

He started to slide downward, still leaning against the container, letting gravity take hold of his body and drag him to the floor. Curling up and letting his head relax against the hunk of metal and surrounded by wires, Pepper Jack sighed.

"I shouldn't be here," he murmured, more to himself than to this strange, sleeping man he found a measure of solace in. "I might get caught. But... I'm so tired..."

Another yawn. His eyelids grew heavier by the second. He wrapped his wings around himself, in a makeshift, lukewarm cocoon.

"Just... Just this once... The sun will wake me. It always does. Doesn't matter when I sleep or where. Then I'll... I'll leave before anyone catches me..."

He rose with the sun, and the sun rose with him. For they were forever bound to one another. For he was its warmth and light made manifest, and so it would obey his commands without question. Or so everyone liked to say. So the threads people used to spin all those tall tales about him aimed to convey to the world, in those tapestries and carvings on the palace walls.

The container was uncomfortable. All freezing, flat iron and sharp edges. But it was fine. It was better than the bed Celestial Cheese gave him. For there was someone next to him, and that alone made the entire lavish bedroom he was made to call his own worthless.

As exhaustion overtook him, Pepper Jack's thoughts began to blur. Those two men that shared a name and face and nothing more melted together into one. He imagined the Burning Spice in the prison before him rising and picking him up. Resting Pepper Jack's head on his shoulder. Carrying him to bed, taking slow, measured steps so as not to make him stir. Laying him down ever so gently - would this Burning Spice be terrified to use his real strength near him, like his Burning Spice still was, even if he pretended not to be when asked? - and pulling the blanket over him. Taking care to leave the boy on his stomach, not his back, because he cared enough to remember that he always wanted his wings to be free. Letting his hand linger in his hair. Petting it. That big, strong, warm hand, offered by the big, strong man who let himself be soft around him, keeping him company. Comforting him as he drifted away.

This Burning Spice wouldn't do any of that. But Pepper Jack was too tired to snap out of it and stop pretending.

The nightmares stayed away this time, at least.

-------------

I have more, but Jack's not the only one who's falling asleep lol. I'll write and post the rest later maybe. Probably. If Cuppa and everyone else is willing to put up with that

Also I'd draw something to accompany this but uhhhhhhhh I'm not sure anyone wants that inflicted upon them lol

[osunism]

Muse's Fanfic Masterpost

⚠️ Please read the rules before following and interacting. ⚠️

⛩️ Muse [She/They] ⛩️ Black 👩🏿‍🦱 ⛩️ 35+. I was there, Gandalf. ⛩️ Multi-fandom and multi-shipper. ⛩️ Writer 👩🏿‍💻 ⛩️ EDM Enjoyer 🌈🪩 ⛩️ Cat Mom 🐈‍⬛ ⛩️ Professional Griot 💃🏿🪘 ⛩️ I don't follow back mindlessly; authentic engagement is the only way I do social media. ⛩️ No bad faith arguments will be entertained. I will ✨block✨ and never look back.

Below is a list of all my current works. Since I’m currently only active in the JJK fandom, those are the works that’ll be listed! Once other fandoms get active, this list will be sorted and updated!

⛩️ AO3 𑁍 FFN 𑁍 Parallax OCs 𑁍 Sonder OCs 𑁍 Headcanons & Meta ⛩️

Fic Status Key

[♡] - AO3 version.

[⭑] - Tumblr version.

[♤] - Fanfiction(dot)net version.

[🚩] - Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

[🔏] - Commissioned Fic

[∞] - In Progress

[☥] - Rewriting

[☯] - Complete

[📿] - Parallax

[🔮] - Sonder

[🪄] - Lost Worlds & Endless Nights

Relationship Key

🧿👹 - Satoru/Sundari

⛩️⚔️ - Sukuna/Nadja

🧿🧜🏾‍♀️ - Satoru/Asabé

⛓️👸🏾 - Toji/Akasha

⛓️👩🏿‍🦱 - Toji/blackfem!Reader

Relevant Tags

#muse writes

#fic rec

#jjk x oc

#jjk x black oc

#jjk fanfic

#jjk fanart

#fic: [ficname]

#series: [seriesname]

#ch: [charname]

#oc: [ocname]

#otp: [shipname]

noun [📿] par·​al·​lax ˈper-ə-ˌlaks ˈpa-rə- 1. the apparent displacement or the difference in apparent direction of an object as seen from two different points not on a straight line with the object. especially: the angular difference in direction of a celestial body as measured from two points on the earth's orbit.

Nadja Hikmat, an immortal warrior tasked by Heaven itself to hunt Ryōmen Sukuna, falls in love with the sorcerer instead. From that fateful meeting, a ripple of unforeseen changes echos across the sea of time.

Beast of No Nation [♡] [⭑] [♤] – One night, the King of Curses took an over-curious fugitive of heaven to task. Over the course that night, and the many that followed, she found herself continuously drawn to the jujutsu world. [☯] [📿] ⛩️⚔️ || 🧿👹

If [♡] [⭑] [♤] – One night, Satoru meets a woman with strange tattoos who sears a place on his mind and memory. Who is she? [☯] [📿] 🧿👹

Crystalline [⭑]– The night Itadori Yuji takes in Sukuna’s Finger, Satoru sees Sukuna’s cursed energy erupt in Roppongi and finds a familiar face at its epicenter. [A commissioned fic written by the lovely @septembersums. Thank you for contributing to my JJK 'verse!] [🔏] [☯] [📿] 🧿👹

We Might Even Be Fallin' In Love [♡] [⭑] [♤] – The miracle of existence bridges the infinity between them. [☯] [📿] 🧿👹

Daughter of Disgrace [♡] [⭑] [♤] – In the aftermath of Satoru Gojo’s sealing, Sundari must choose rebellion in order to free him. Lucky for them both, rebellion has always been her preferred modus operandi. [☯] [📿] ⛩️⚔️ || 🧿👹

The Godslayer Project [♡] [⭑] [♤] – Sukuna’s daughter, Sundari, is navigating her new life as a jujutsu sorcerer and instructor at Jujutsu Tech’s Tokyo Campus. There is still much to be done in the wake of Kenjaku and Sukuna’s schemes, and not all of Kenjaku’s secrets died with him. [TBD]

07DEC2019 04:00 AM JST [♡] [⭑] [♤] – Gojo Satoru comes home and wants to be in the arms of his goddess and sleep. [☯] [📿] 🧿👹

The universe conspires to keep one pair's love kept safe. Nadja and Sukuna walk Samsāra, no matter the form, recognizing one another's souls everywhere they meet. Here is how their meeting ripples across the multiverse. [Or: I am in love with these two and here are some AUs I'm cooking up.]

Highball [♡] [⭑] [♤] – The price of peace has a cost. The scales must balance eventually. [Yakuza/Found Family AU]

noun [🔮] 1. the feeling one has on realizing that every other individual one sees has a life as full and real as one’s own, in which they are the central character and others, including oneself, have secondary or insignificant roles: In a state of sonder, each of us is at once a hero, a supporting cast member, and an extra in overlapping stories.

A collection of fics in my sprawling JJK multiverse featuring various protagonists, including the Reader!

The Unforgiving Roads That Lead to You [♡] [♤] – Roxanne Abaza, the only foreign-born special grade sorcerer in existence, is called to assist with the wrangling and exorcism of Ryōmen Sukuna. What ensues is more than she bargained for. [☥]

Halfsleeper [♡] [⭑] [♤] – A young widowed sorceress seeks protection under the aegis of the Honored One, but he has a better idea for keeping her out of the clutches of her dangerous clan. [∞] 🧿🧜🏾‍♀️

Unsanctioned [♡] [⭑] [♤] – Bodyguard/Yakuza AU. Toji Fushiguro, who is in disgrace after having an affair with his boss’ now ex-wife, is now tasked with protecting her as the mercurial grounds of Tokyo’s Underworld begin to shift into uncertainty, putting the entire syndicate and anyone associated with them in peril. [∞] ⛓️👸🏾

Before It's Gone [♡] [⭑] – Toji’s been darkening your doorway for a while and is only now realizing what you already knew. [☯] [🔮] ⛓️👩🏿‍🦱

These are playlists for the fics and characters within my JJK ‘verse. It cannot be overstated how much music plays an integral role in my creative process, and it makes me happy to share it with you all to expand the picture I paint with my stories. A ☮︎ indicates a link to the Spotify version of the playlist. Keep in mind that due to licensing issues [yuck], my personal music library tracks can’t be played on some services so there might be more or less songs, different versions of songs, etc. Still bangers, tho. Enjoy.

🎧 [ fugitive of heaven ] [☮︎] – Nadja Hikmat's playlist. Like her immortal life, this playlist has been curated across decades, evoking imagery of a wild, twisting sojourn through many eras. 🐍

🎧 [ godslayer principle ] [☮︎] – Sundari Hikmat's playlist. Expect atmospheric haunting, psytrance, hard techno, some house, R&B, trap, and strange chanting. 🔱

🎧 [ ritual + bone ] [☮︎] – Roxanne Abaza’s playlist. Witchy, just like our girl likes it.

🎧 [ highball ] [☮︎] – The soundtrack for my Parallax AU: Highball.

© 2024 Hajara Asiri. Do NOT copy, translate, plagiarize, repost anywhere without permission [reblogging posts is okay]. This includes feeding any of my writing to an AI as well as copying my masterlist format. I only upload on Tumblr, AO3, and FFN. All general banners and dividers by @cafekitsune.

☕️ Member of the @pixelcafe-network.

🇵🇸 Palestinian Resources - A guide to Palestine as well as resources in order to help with relief efforts for individuals and families. You can also check my main blog for fundraisers I boost as well.

🇵🇸 Nominal - A Palestinian-owned jewelry company with many beautiful and inspired pieces in silver and gold.

🇵🇸 Olive Odyssey - A collective of Palestinian farmers who tend to the ancient olive groves in Palestine. They make a delicious olive oil, and also sell the Palestinian spice seasoning, Zatar. Supporting them puts much-needed funds in the hands of Palestinian farmers, as well as helping families in Gaza.

🇨🇩 Friends of Congo - A resource to raise consciousness to the ongoing crisis in the DRC. I've worked with this organization before, and they have chapters all over where you can sit in and listen and learn how you can help.

[haespoir]

me after you: ldh.

⨯ pairing: general!haechan x princess!reader

⨯ word count:  6.2k

⨯ genre: historical au, secret relationship

⨯ summary: being a royal means that you don't have the luxury of marrying for love. but when your younger sister is set to marry your childhood friend turned secret lover, you have to do something.

⨯ content: a lot of angst, mentions of blood, mentions of suicide, character death, open ending

⨯ playlist: fine, taeyeon / lucid dream, aespa / forgetting you, davichi / if it is you, jung seung hwan / how can i love the heartbreak you’re the only one i love, akmu

⨯ a/n: this comes after watching scarlet heart in one sitting. please be kind, this is the longest thing i've written in a while! feedback is always welcome ♡ . . .

You’re barely 10 years old when you first see him. You’re crouched behind a tree as you watch your brother Jaemin from a distance, an unfamiliar male by his side. You have no idea what they’re speaking about, but frankly, you don’t care much. You just want to know more about the male next to Jaemin. 

You've heard numerous stories of love at first sight. You’ve always believed that your first love would come and sweep you off your feet, that they would come in and whisk you away from the palace. But that’s not what he does. Instead, he fills your mind with fantasies, scenarios you only wish you could pursue with him. You imagine nights under the stars with him, being wrapped in his arms would be a dream come true. All this and you don’t even know his name. 

Suddenly, your muse for art is at its all-time high. You stray away from the usual flowers and bright colors. Dark colors make an appearance, and an unnamed male becomes the star of your paintings. It’s odd how someone you’ve never had a full conversation with occupies your mind. 

There’s this odd hunger that makes a home in your heart. Something that can never be calmed. At least not by you. Not by anyone but your mystery man. 

It’s not until a few weeks later that you get a name to match the face. Lee Donghyuck, the son of Grand General Lee. You know right away that he is destined to do nothing but good in his life. A man who can save countless countries in your eyes. 

You finally formally exchange names with him. It’s a wonder really, the way just a few words have you flying on cloud nine. “Lee Donghyuck,” he had said, voice sweeter than honey. It was sad how quickly you became smitten. 

But it seems you are not the only one because it doesn’t take long for the two of you to click. You’ve got a routine going, a secret shared amongst yourselves. Late nights turn into adventures, hand in hand the two of you explore everything the night skies have to offer. 

Looking into the eyes of Donghyuck you swear that he holds your whole universe there. He is limitless. The stars are not confined to just his eyes; they float in his voice when he whispers sweet words to you, and they dance along from his skin to yours when you touch. They surround him with this celestial warmth that is blinding to you. 

It doesn’t take you long to realize it, but you’ve fallen in love with Lee Donghyuck, desperately in love; it stays that way for years to come. 

And then the letters are sent out.

. . .

You are invited to the royal wedding...

Your attendance is requested at the wedding celebration of PRINCESS YI MIYOUNG and GENERAL LEE DONGHYUCK on the evening of Saturday, the 5th of January in the year of 1540 of King Jaehyun’s rule. 

The celebration will be held in the estate gifted to the prince consort and the princess after the formal wedding ceremony in the royal palace. Guests are required to bring forth a gift that will be presented to the bride and groom as well as the original invitation, which is to be presented on entrance. This invitation is extended to the immediate members of the recipient’s household.

His Majesty, King Jaehyun

Father of the bride.

. . .

Anger is a foreign emotion to you. But soon, you’ll find it’s your best friend. 

The date of the wedding weighs down on your soul. It crushes any hope that you have. Like a harsh wind, it blows out the flickering light of hope you have, and it leaves you covered in a darkness that you are unfamiliar with. Sorrow courses through your veins, but its presence is barely acknowledged. There’s something else there that takes control.

Anger.

It clouds your senses until it's all you see. A white flash of rage. A single swipe of your arm leaves your tea cups broken on the floor. Tears of anger slip down your face, but it makes things worse. You’re weak, so weak. And you’re an emotional mess. 

You wish you could be angry at your father for allowing it to happen. At Donghyuck for making empty promises, or even Miyoung, for just being Miyoung. But you can’t. It’s impossible. Your anger is directed at one person only– yourself. 

You hate yourself. It becomes a cycle of self-loathing. You’re unable to be angry at anyone but yourself. You are too careless with your heart. How could you have been so foolish? You know better than anyone else that there’s no room for love when it comes to the royal family. 

You rip the decorative accessories from your hair and throw them with all the strength you can muster. Even so, they don’t make it far. They land in front of an unfinished painting, the image haunting you. A painting meant for Donghyuck. How could you bring yourself to finish it now? 

A piece of glass catches your attention. How easy would it be to end your suffering? A simple cut would be enough, would it not? You could be free of all the politics, free of the pain. The glass feels heavy in your hand and suddenly, you are weighing out your life options.

But the more you think about it, the more your anger manifests. How could you allow someone to have so much control over your life? You’ve given your heart away so easily, and you aren't sure if you’ll ever get it back. 

Without realizing it, your grip on the shard of glass tightens and soon you’re drawing blood. But with your emotions running so wild, you don't even feel the pain. Scarlet tears stain your clothing, but you don't mind. Not now. 

You’re tired, tired of being walked all over. You’re tired of not having a say in your life. But– at the same time– you’ve lost all care. Bitterness seeps into your heart, and you feel like giving up.

However, you refuse to be weak this time around. You’ve been kicked into the dirt once again, but you won’t allow yourself to be buried. You will grow this time, and this time with more resilience than before. 

You watch as another drop of blood falls from your hand. This time, you’ll care only for yourself. This time, you will only care for your own happiness. You’ll face everyone with a fake smile. You’ll congratulate the married couple. And you won’t reveal your sorrow.

. . .

It feels as if a weight has been lifted off Donghyuck’s chest. There had been a few hiccups, but he had survived greeting his future wife. It’s not like he really wanted to, but he knew he had a role to fill. Miyoung wasn’t at fault; it wasn’t as if she had approached her father and begged to allow her to marry him. 

No, it should have been you to do that. 

But he also knew that you were not in the proper position to make those demands. He sighs softly; what a truly frustrating experience this was. The meetings with Miyoung and the King had been draining, but it was clear that they were to be married for political reasons only. After all, Donghyuck came from a family of generals who were completely loyal to the crown. 

As if the sky was reflecting his exhausted nature, the sun had begun to set. The light was slowly dying, a beautiful pink hue painted across the sky. You would have loved to see this sunset; it was one of your favorite activities, just chatting away under the disappearing sun. 

Had he been more aware, he would have heard you approach him. Standing in front of him was a princess, and he would argue that she was his favorite one. 

His surroundings seemed to be muted in comparison to you. There was nothing as vibrant as his lover, if he dared still call you that. Almost instantly, his heart clenches; it hammers within his chest like the war drums sounding his army’s march. It was almost as if his heart was echoing its intent for you. 

“Princess…” Donghyuck catches himself, addressing you with your proper title before an affectionate nickname can slip past his lips. “I hope you are well.” He bows with a foreign eagerness to place as much distance between the two of you as possible.

As he gazes at you, he begins to wonder if betraying the crown is worth it. If it meant he could hold you in his arms he believes he would forsake the entire country for you. That thought alone is terrifying, and it goes against everything his father has taught him. 

So with as much courage as he can, and it’s not a lot, he speaks again: “I bid you farewell.”

There’s an undeniable feeling that pools in your stomach as you look at him. It’s an ache that squeezes your heart so tightly it’s hard to breathe. There’s no one else that you would want to spend your life with, yet he is the same person who is forbidden to you. 

In your bandaged hand is a piece of fabric, one that holds the love and affection you have for the male in front of you. Intricate stars are laced through the dark fabric, representing the countless nights the two of you had spent together. So many sleepless nights spent on something for a man you could no longer love. A man you could no longer call your own. 

“Donghyuck,” you say, almost choking on the tears that you refuse to let fall. There's a feeling of happiness that blinds your senses when you see him, yet you can also feel your heart break at his cautious nature. How could the affection that once laced his words be completely gone? The words that left his mouth felt foreign, and they left you feeling bitter. 

“Please accept this,” you whisper, nearly begging. You barely manage to grip his sleeve; it seems he is in a rush to leave you. That idea only has your heart hurting even more. Your nights amongst the stars seem so distant now. He seems so distant now.

The way you said his name hurt. Even if he had scars covering his body from war, none would hurt as much as it did hearing you call his name out like that. He did not want to do this, it would be so easy to leave and run away, but when a princess begs, it is in your best interest to act in favor of the princess. 

Duty before self. Crown before duty. Country before the crown. These were words that he was taught since he was just a young boy. It was these same words that now haunt his every decision. Duty to the crown– the king had decreed his partner for life. There should be no space within his heart for you. Yet, you occupy all.

With trembling hands, his heart overriding the screams of protest in his head, he takes the star-laced fabric. Quickly, his eyes dart around, checking to see if the two of you were truly alone. Once that’s confirmed, he doesn’t hold back. Calloused hands cup the delicate face of a princess, your beauty clouded by the tears gathering in his eyes.

“What are you expecting?” He asks.

Maybe hours later, when he’s regained control of his emotions and he’s alone, he’d probably berate himself for giving into his weakness. However, right now, the crown be damned. It nearly broke his heart to see you hurting, especially when he loved you so dearly. All because you wanted him to accept a gift, which he’s sure is a parting gift. Even if he wants to deny it. He could be heartless in his duty to the crown, however, this was too much. “I’m already promised to Miyoung,” he says softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You know the king’s decision is final, and I cannot love you. We cannot be seen like this.”

“Leave me.” He whispers, watching as the tears that had pooled in your eyes begin to fall. “And forget me.”

“Forgive me,” he thinks to himself. 

It’s a concept that is foreign to you; the fact that his words hurt more than any physical wound- you’ve never felt anything like this. His words are like needles, and your heart is their resting place. 

Like always, Donghyuck is able to take your breath away. But this time he’s left you with no air, and no words as well. You don’t know what you had expected to become of the two of you– after all, Donghyuck was always someone who chose his country and the crown over anything. 

“I can't accept it,” you sob. And even if you tried, you don’t know how to. There's no one else in the palace who you love as much as you love Donghyuck. And it’s so difficult for you to come to terms with. 

“I can’t leave you, and I can’t forget you,” you recited as if it was a mantra that had been playing in your mind for days. And you had. Your thoughts had been consumed with Donghyuck since you had met him. 

Donghyuck, without much thought, presses his lips to yours. As if it's the most natural thing for him to do, as if he wishes to ease the pain of your breaking hurt. And it works, if only briefly. 

You relish the feeling of his lips against yours, a feeling you find yourself not knowing you missed. You never realized how hungry you were for Donghyuck until you got a taste. Like a drug, you’re not sure if you’re able to give him up. Your grip on his sleeve tightens, unable to let go of him. 

But no matter how selfish you wish to be, you can’t.

An internal conflict impossible for you to escape. You pull away from him quickly, tears spilling from your eyes freely now. How could you do this to Miyoung? How could the king do this to you?

Donghyuck had lost to his own weakness; he had lost to his own emotions. Everything always came back to you. Your lips were just as he remembered. You were an addiction to him as well, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to quit. 

He knew you. He knew the meaning of those tears; he could see the conflict brewing within your eyes.

“You're thinking about Miyoung, aren’t you?” He says softly, his hands moving to curl stray hair behind your ear. “You’re unable to betray your sister, as I am unable to betray the king.” 

He’s once again brushing your tears away with his fingers. “So much for being a general,” he bitterly thinks to himself. He wishes he had the courage to ask you to run away with him, but he has a family to think about. He has to think about his duty to the crown and to his family. Unknowingly, tears had also begun to fall from his eyes. “The moment the King announced our marriage it was over. What did you expect coming to see me here?”

His words are once again stabbing at your heart.

“Of course, I'm thinking about your wife,” you say, “My sister. Your wife. A person who gets to spend their nights in your arms.” It hurts even more as you speak, the words leaving your lips in soft breaths. It’s official, Lee Donghyuck has broken you.

The feeling of his fingers on your face brings back nostalgic memories. Instinctively, you lean into his touch. There is nothing that you wouldn’t give up for Donghyuck– you were just that in love with him. But you were just a princess– a princess willing to give up their title and life just for some general. And while you want to say that you’re unsure if Donghyuck would do the same, you know his loyalty to the crown is undying. And that is what tears your heart apart. 

“Do you know how difficult it is?” There are so many nights where you find that sleep doesn’t welcome you with open arms anymore. Instead, it turns its back to you, ignoring your pleas as you spend the night tossing and turning. 

It’s hard for you to speak; you’re choking on tears. You don't know what you expect from Donghyuck anymore. Your situation has become so complicated. It's hard for you to even comprehend. 

“I can't expect the same love I once received, I know I can't,” you say weakly, hating how difficult it was for you to speak. “But I do. Donghyuck– I crave it. I miss you so much.”

“To-be. Wife to-be. We’re not married yet.” He states bitterly, doing his best to draw the line distinctively. “She will not spend her nights with me. I have not touched her hand, her lips, or her.” 

It’s like daggers are embedding themselves into his heart with each word. He does his best to defend himself and calm your anxieties as he speaks. “I will sleep in my own study even if we are wed.”

“To be or is, what difference does it make? You are no longer mine Donghyuck– why can’t I grasp it?” you speak with anger towards yourself now, each word produces a new cloud of darkness in your heart, a feeling you’re becoming used to unfortunately. 

You’ve come to a full circle of blaming yourself. You’re the one to blame, had you not fallen for Donghyuck that fateful day, this wouldn’t be happening. Had you begged the king to allow you to wed Donghyuck instead of Miyoung, maybe you would have gotten your happy ending. 

But it’s too late for that now. Even the thought of Donghyuck spending a night with Miyoung pains you. Though you want nothing best for your siblings– if Donghyuck is Miyoung’s best, you might find yourself changing your mind.

“You are always the last thought that I have before I close my eyes. You were my very last thought when I thought I was on the verge of dying.” His words are earnest as he speaks. “You are the one that kept me strong on the way back home, back to you. I thought about your crying face and fought the reapers who had come to claim me.” 

Donghyuck’s hands drop to your waist as he pulls you into him, holding you close. “The love you’ve once received is still here.” He takes your hand and places it over his chest. “You will always be in my heart until the day I breathe my last breath.”

You grip the fabric that separates your hand and his heart. “You plague my every waking thought, Donghyuck. And even when I think I can be free of you– you appear again. Countless nights I prayed for your safety. I prayed for you to come back. To come back to me.” But that’s not the reality you get. Your father had rewarded the man you loved for winning the war by giving him your younger sister’s hand in marriage. How cruel.

“It is torture to give a man your heart and soul only for it to be rejected because the crown and country are placed higher than you,” you say, hitting his chest with your balled-up fist. “It is truly torture having to hide away from your family because you’re ashamed. Ashamed to face your sister for loving her soon-to-be husband. Ashamed at the fact that I couldn't even be vocal about how much I loved you– how much I do love you.”

You move to cup his cheeks, your thumbs caressing his face in ways that you can only hope to express how much affection you still hold for him. “What are we to do? What am I to do?”

Donghyuck swears this is like a dead game of go, several stones are already stuck. Defeat is imminent. Perhaps he is going soft and becoming vulnerable. He had heard this is what love does to a person. He had warned those who learned from him that placing too much focus on one objective would be their downfall. Yet here he is, doing everything in his power to keep you safe and by his side. 

Even if he meant betraying his loyalty. 

It would be simple; avoid the engagement and wedding as long as he could. Then, when your brother Jaemin takes the throne, he could annul the engagement. It would have to work; it was the only way. For this to work, the King must die.

He could do it in five years, maybe even four. An illness, or a coup. Something like that could work, right? The thought alone makes his heart race. Someone with an undying loyalty to the crown, thinking such treasonous thoughts.  

He looked at you, the love of his life. He could see the pain that flickered in your eyes. Were you worth committing high treason for? To go against the crown and country? To go against everything he had ever known?

The answer was blatantly yes. 

Would your love survive if he was the one to end the life of your father? Even if it was a perfect crime, would his own soul survive dealing with the guilt?

“I love you.” He whispered, pulling you into him once again. Donghyuck closed his eyes, willing away the demons forming in his mind. When someone you love more than life is in pain, it is a very simple decision to make on the spot. 

Donghyuck lies.

“It will all be fine,” he says. “I will find a way for us. Can you wait?”

One look into his eyes, and you know he’s planning something. You can hear the cogwheels turning in his brain. Like a true General, or to-be Grand General– you know he wastes no time in making plans. You know him too well, after all, he was once your Donghyuck. 

Being in his arms was where you belonged, where you would happily spend the rest of your days. But that was not so easy anymore. You could no longer hold the affection you once held for him. 

Logically, it’s not right. You know it’s not. It's your loyalty to your sister that reminds you of this every single day. Miyoung was a princess, and you would not allow your sister’s reputation to be tarnished. There were just some things that were above you. Anyone with a brain knows that this is not just some easy mistake to be fixed. 

But you have always followed your heart. 

So you allow yourself to fall into Donghyuck once more. “I love you as well,” you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. You can hear his steady heartbeat as you place your head on his chest; it calms your aching soul. Donghyuck is your sun, your moon, and all your stars. You know that he is someone you’re willing to fight for. 

“I will wait for you until the end of time, you know that.” The words slip past your lips effortlessly, a white lie in its purest form. You know that Donghyuck will always be in your heart, but you also know how the world works. It works in cruel and unfortunate ways. 

A princess as soft-spoken as you will never get what you want. You are a pawn to others. You know soon enough that you will be married off– just as your sister was. And when the time comes, will you still be able to put Donghyuck above all else? 

“But are you able to wait for me?”

He leans away from you to look at your face, his hands not leaving your waist. “I fought death for you,” he thinks to himself, feeling his heart swell at the image of you. 

“Is this doubt I hear?” He gazes at you with false anger, a playful smirk decorating his features. “You dare doubt the hero, the Grand General Lee Donghyuck?”

“I will wait for you until the end of time,” He says, leaning in and stealing several small kisses between each word. You allow yourself to be showered in his love, and you enjoy the feeling wholeheartedly. You carve the feeling of his lips against your skin into your mind. You won’t ever allow yourself to forget it; you won’t allow yourself to forget your love. Separating himself from you, Donghyuck takes a step backward, his hands gently holding both of yours.

“I’m not good with words,” he begins, looking down at your intertwined hands. “But since I’ve already broken my own vow to stay away from you, I might as well speak freely now. I had prepared for months to say this, hoping that I would get to say it when I received your hand from the King.”

He takes a breath, his gaze meeting yours. 

“Once, as a young boy, my father told me to never stare at royalty. We should keep our heads bowed. And I took that to heart until you. How could I not look at the most beautiful person in the palace? For the first time in my life, I took a gamble. I asked Jaemin to introduce me to you. I was just his sparring partner then, and I thought I would have been executed for that.” 

Donghyuck thinks back to that day, smiling fondly at the reactions he remembered receiving from Jaemin. Why was his sparring partner interested in his sister? It hadn’t made sense to Jaemin then, and a part of Donghyuck almost wishes he never asked. 

“Jaemin introduced us, and when you smiled at me… I was never able to look away. If not for you, I don’t think I would have ever known a love so deeply in my life. I fell in love with you when I was ten, just a young boy,” he smiles, giving your hands a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m twenty-three now, and I’ve been loving you more and more each and every day since I was ten. I regret not a second of it.”

You know that your end is coming soon. 

But with every word, Donghyuck makes it so much harder for you to give him up. His words cause your mind to run; it runs to a place where the two of you are free to love each other.

However, that place is not here.

You two are but a small chapter in the novel of this country, a small insignificant chapter. And you realize that now.

Yet your heart still races at his words. You know that you are Donghyuck’s weakness. So it leaves you no choice but to be the strong one in your situation. 

“Every second I've spent with you, there is not a single regret that plagues them. You have given me the love I never knew I needed.” You raise your intertwined hands, placing a gentle on the back of his hand.

“And for that, I thank you. The first time I laid my eyes on you, I knew you would be more than just a man to me. I've given you my whole heart, and I can only hope you keep it safe.” Your words pain you. You know this is your goodbye, the last time you will ever see Donghyuck with these feelings of love dancing in your heart. 

So you press one last soft kiss against his lips before you speak again: “I should head back to my quarters, as should you. It's quite late. Be safe.” 

With these last words, you let go of your first love and quickly turn for your room. The farther you get, the more tears fall. You wonder if it’s really better this way.

. . .

It is a good thing that Donghyuck had not spoken of his treasonous thoughts to you because they fall through so quickly. 

The silence in the air becomes a newfound friend to you. Something you once detested before now brings you endless comfort. The day is coming sooner than you hoped. You must congratulate your sister. You must congratulate the love of your life, Lee Donghyuck, for getting married to your dear sister.

It hurts. It hurts like hell. There are so many things you wish you would have done differently. You wish that you didn’t meet Lee Donghyuck– that you never fell in love with him. You shouldn’t have given everything away so easily. Because now, you’ve become a fool, a pawn in this game of chess. All of you have.

You’ll be okay. It's a mantra that repeats in your head like a broken record. He's not worth it. Nobody should have control over your life like Donghyuck does. It’s time for you to let go. 

And so you try.

The moon supplies no light in the dark garden. Yet, you are there. Your canvas is set– Donghyuck’s unfinished painting there. The dark sky is displayed on the once white canvas, small stars littered sparsely amongst the space. Two figures bask in the glow provided by the white paint. Figures that were once Donghyuck and you have been completely remade into Donghyuck and Miyoung.

It ignites anger in your faint heart once again. But the healing scar on the palm of your hand reminds you to never take the anger out on yourself, never again.

So you take your anger out on the painting.

With a heavy grip, you stab your paintbrush into the canvas. Before your eyes, the painting becomes two pieces. Something you wish their marriage would become.

But it hurts you to even think these ill thoughts. You care for your sister so much. And you care for Donghyuck even more. Yet there’s this new evil that rests in your heart. Suddenly, becoming bitter seems easier than letting go. And it definitely looks more attractive with every second that passes.

It takes a few days of peaceful meditation, but you find yourself in the garden again. Your muse this time, a budding flower. A representation of the new relationship that will bud between the two. A representation of the new take on life you have.

The color blue stains your fingers. A color for freedom and peace. This painting is made with Donghyuck in mind. The words “I forgive you," are woven throughout the flower. And you only hope that Donghyuck is able to understand it.

The nights following your breakdown instilled a resolve that you could have never found yourself following. A path laced thoroughly with bitterness and hatred. A path completely unfamiliar to you. But it’s a path you will now call your own. For you have learned that those with a faint heart can’t survive. They won’t survive. And now you will do whatever it takes to survive.

You spend the night before the wedding in the garden again. It is foolish for you to hope that Donghyuck will arrive. You know that it is wishful thinking. As you walk the path engraved in the ground made by the two of you, you know it is the last time.

. . .

The morning brings signs of your new beginning. A new you. This is your chance at a new life. You will create a new path for yourself, a path you will now travel alone. You no longer need Donghyuck. All you need is yourself.

Your resilience is stronger than ever before. But you know that your weakness rests in your heart; you would be foolish to lie to yourself and say it doesn’t. You have always been someone who loves wholeheartedly. From a young age, you gave everything you had to offer to those you love. You had given your heart to Lee Donghyuck, and now you had to give him to your sister. 

You arrive at the wedding on time. But the happiness in the air has no effect on your mood. You’re sad and heartbroken– it’s inevitable. But you don't let it show. 

Sitting through the ceremony hurts. It’s expected, but you begin your healing process quickly. You lower your expectations for Donghyuck. You no longer expect anything from him. Not even a glance.

And so, your eyes stray from him. They only stay on Miyoung. Your heart hurts for the younger princess. You know that she wants nothing more than to not be married to Donghyuck. You know that someone else resides in the heart of your sister. Yet you hope she is able to find happiness. You don't wish for darkness to form in her sister’s heart.

. . .

“Your Highness, your sister comes bearing gifts.”

You stand tall, a soft smile on your lips. “For her highness, an embroidered scroll.” The scroll your maid hands over tells the tale of sorrow you feel for your younger sister. An arrangement of flowers decorates the fabric, a single daisy being the star of the show. A flower to represent hope and innocence. You pray that Miyoung is able to keep her hope throughout this marriage and that her innocence never fades.

“And a painting for you, General Lee.” The bitterness that dances on your tongue makes it hard for you to keep your composure, but you do your best. The blue carnation decorating the canvas is not something that you have ever laid your eyes upon. Rather something you have created for Donghyuck himself. The last thing you will ever create for him.

“I wish you both a prosperous marriage.'' Those are your final words as you bow. Your eyes avoid Donghyuck's as you leave, disappearing from his sight once the door is closed. You only wish that all involved can find happiness. For this is the last time you will allow yourself to be heartbroken like this. 

. . .

King Jaehyun gathers everyone’s attention with a clear voice that rings out clearly in the chilly night air. He motions to the tables set around a fire that blazes in the middle to warm the guests against a biting winter breeze. 

Daughters sit with fathers, quietly gazing away from the king out of politeness. Sons sit with their mothers, quiet and attentive, ready to hang upon the King’s every word.  Here marks the start of a toast: from a father wishing the best to his daughter in her married life, from a king looking proudly on his son in law who’s already achieved so much in such a short amount of time. There is a moment when the mantle of the king is laid down and instead, the wishes of a father ring out into the night.

It's obvious that the princess is unhappy sitting next to her now husband. It's obvious that her husband looks as if he wants to be anywhere else, beaten down already as he is by the rumors and the whispers about his wife and their marriage bed. 

The King can see it all clearly, but to them, he wishes them lifelong happiness. He hopes that in the end, they’ll find it. And he expects that they will. 

No one notices the looks that are shared slyly behind his back between certain members of the court. Everyone is far too interested in the married couple at the head of their table, seated close to the King. They’re far too invested in the King’s words, and the gleam of pride in his eyes when he looks over at the married couple as he is ready to put the cup to his lips. It’s a signal for everyone else to do the same, and so they do.  

It's a shame, really, that no one notices. This all could have been avoided if they had.

The toast ends with a sip of alcohol in the King’s presence, all members of the party turning away from him to drink from their cups. It doesn’t start right away– people put down their cups, and there’s once again a dull chatter that bubbles through the crowd. After all, no one is expecting a red wedding.

It takes a few minutes to settle in the system. Most poisons do. First, it’s the princess who coughs up blood, staining her hanbok a dark shade of crimson. That’s when the panic begins, her coughing not stopping; she continues to cough and bleed, unable to breathe from the poison that’s boiling hot in her system.

It's not just the princess though.

Several members of the court are clutching at their robes, heaving and clawing in fevered desperation to cling to their lives. The poison is fast acting. And it leaves the princess, the Minister of Defense, and a General as cold as the night air.

In the blink of an eye, two sons become the head of their family, forced to take on the mantle of their dead fathers. In the blink of an eye, a princess is stolen from the world. And in the blink of an eye, three families are torn apart and heartbroken. For a long moment, there’s silence. The King is pale. 

And then all you can hear is the wailing of the groom.

[drtwit]

Here I am, your least favorite gremlin out of her garbage can, with another gremlin idea for Menaces AU .

The Butterfly™ is actually stupid enough to step into Paris, AKA Hawkmoth's territory, and not only that, but to prove that he can do whatever he wants in moth's turf and nobody could stop him, he tries to steal Ladybug and Chat Noir's miraculouses, and even—takes an interst on Nathalie. This motherfucker actually went into HK's turf, fought his enemies, and by pure stupid coincidence, ended up interested in his assistant. The perfect concoction of disrespect to piss Hawkmoth off.

Everyone would expect him to react bringing an akuma like "Reflekta", "Multiplier" or "Miss Squirrel" (that definitely is not a ripoff of Mr. Pidgeon), overall, expected him to bring an akuma that Butterfly could defeat.

Nobody expects Hawkmoth to bring in Cthulhu.

Does least favourite implies that I have multiple gremlins on stand by?

Hawkmoth: "Send in Cthulhu."

Adrien: "…Like, a Cthulhu-based akuma?"

Hawkmoth: "No, no, Cthulhu. He owes me a favour."

Adrien: "For what?"

Hawkmoth: "Don't think about it. Here's his phone number, just don't look at it too long, the numbers are cursed knowledge or something."

Adrien: "This number is our HR department."

Hawkmoth: "He's the head of the department. Does good work."

Hawkmoth: “Here’s his calendar. Pick a day when the planets aren’t aligned, or else he gets cranky.”

Adrien: "We had Cthulhu in our back pocket this whole time and we never sicked him on Ladybug?"

Hawkmoth: "Ladybug isn't harassing my assistant with dirty messages."

Adrien: "He sent her a poem."

Hawkmoth: "A filthy, perverse poem."

Adrien: "He just says that her eyes 'reflect the boundless cosmos'."

Hawkmoth: “Reflects the boundless cosmos? Reflects the boundless cosmos? Are you hearing this, Adrien? This slimy… insectoid casanova thinks he can just waltz in here, spill a few poorly-disguised innuendos, and charm my assistant?"

Adrien: “I… Don’t think it was an innuendo, Father. He just… Mentioned her eyes?”

Hawkmoth: “Oh, sure, sure! Just innocently musing on her ‘infinite, alluring gaze,’ hm? And what’s next? Calling her his ‘celestial muse’? Describing her beauty as ‘indescribable, yet timeless’? This whole thing has one intention, Adrien, and it’s the kind of intention you don’t put in a Hallmark card! It's all code for unspeakable desires, and poor Nathalie has to suffer through it all."

Adrien: "So… Cthulhu?"

Hawkmoth: "Some disrespect requires a beating, some require eldritch intervention."

Nathalie is, of course, sitting off the side with a glass of wine basking in Gabriel's jealousy.