#i don’t know much about the character personally so it was a little daunting ;;
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this might be odd but would you be willing to do headcanons for cg!nikolai zinoviev (resident evil)!! with any regressor but maybe aged 4-7 if there needs to be specifics :0?
sorry if the phrasing is weird ive never requested stuff like this before!! i'd totally understand if you turned it down but i figured i'd ask :33
helloo ^_^;; this ask is very old but i wanted 2 personally lyk i’m working on this 4 u!! i’m very sorry it’s taken me this long 2 get 2 it 🩵
#i don’t know much about the character personally so it was a little daunting ;;#but i have time now and ur request and support is very special to me#asks#🩵
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warm w/ choi jongho
“sometimes i don’t feel real,” you whisper, voice only just loud enough to hear over the dialogue of the film. perhaps it isn’t a coincidence that you mention it now, as the two main characters argue about something that is no doubt incredibly important to the plot; perhaps you’re hoping that jongho will be far too invested in the false argument to hear your admission. maybe it’s easier to let the help pass you by all while claiming that you tried than to actually let yourself be helped. being helped takes energy and unfortunately you’re using all of that up trying desperately to stay afloat.
“in what way,” jongho hums, not once taking his eyes away from the screen. if you didn’t know him so well you’d be offended that your problems don’t seem to be worth his time. having spent years by his side, however, you can’t help but be grateful as he seemingly ignores you in favour of the film. it makes it so much easier to say what’s wrong when he seems like he isn’t laying attention. no judgement, or pressure—it’s like yelling into the void except this time there’s someone there to listen.
“nothing feels real,” you say, a little louder this time now that you know you can’t hide behind the film. “i’m a person with a life and a boyfriend and that just… i don’t get it.”
jongho leans forward to grab the glass of water he’d placed on the coffee table earlier. your eyes hone on on the ring of condensation left on the coaster, studying the clear water droplets as if they hold all the secrets to the universe. it gives you something to focus on instead of the contemplative silence of your boyfriend. it’s daunting to think about the fact that you don’t know what’s running through his mind; you don’t know whether what’s coming next is good or bad, and while you have a strong inclining that it’s the former, you just can’t be sure.
its then that something cold hits your leg, smearing icy water across the skin exposed by the shorts you wear. it pulls a squeak out of your mouth and your body moves quick to escape whatever if it that’s touching you. your eyes flick down just in time to see jongho retracting his hand back into his lap, fingers wrapping around the glass that he’d shoved between his thighs for safe keeping. he picks it up like nothing has happened, taking a sip of the ice cold water before letting out a grunt of satisfaction as how smooth it trickles down his throat. it’s like nothing happened; like he didn’t just touch you with his icy fingers.
“did you feel that?” his eyes finally meet yours as he asks his question. you nod with furrowed brows, confused and baffled as to why he paused your discussion just to mess with you. “good,” he smiles, “if you felt it then it’s real, right? it’s like when you punch yourself in a dream”
you can’t help but scoff, “i’m not sure that’s how it works, jongho,” a strange new liveliness makes its way into you as you shuffle across the sofa to get closer to him. you work quickly to take the cup of water from him and set it back on the table, not quite expecting to be met with two large hands on your waist the second it taps against the small mat. they tug at you until your spine is pressed against your boyfriend’s chest, his arms moving quick to wrap around your waist and trap you there. you wriggle experimentally, only for his grip to get tighter.
“no escape baby,” he pressed his lips into your neck and kisses your soft skin, “i’m busy proving to you that i’m real.” his voice vibrates through you in a way that has you squirming ticklishly in his lap.
“get off, you big baby,” he doesn’t. he just snickers against your throat, his bared teeth rubbing softly against your sensitive skin. “it tickles, jongho!” you squeal as he presses a series of kisses against your soft skin. they make your way up your neck, the final one landing just beneath your earlobe. the rhythmic pace of his breathing rings through your ear as he brings his lips up past your ear and kisses your temple.
“that’s the point,” he whispers so quiet that it almost isn’t there. but it is, and you lean into it, letting his voice wash over you like the ocean over the shore. right now, it doesn’t really matter whether this is real or not—though you’re pretty sure your brain wouldn’t be able to come up with a scene so perfect—what matters is that it feels good. sitting in the warm embrace of the man you love feels heavenly, and until the next time he so effortlessly tugs you into his lap, you’re sure that nothing will ever beat this feeling.
#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez oneshot#ateez fluff#ateez scenarios#ateez fic#jongho x reader#jongho fluff
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Do you ever feel the urge to just delete something you've written? Because you suddenly feel embarrassed about it? Or because no one would care anyway?
Oh boy anon, do I have a meme for you
I think everyone feels like this after posting. Even things that I think people will like, I still get nervous. Content out of my wheelhouse? New AUs? Oh yeah, I worry I’ll be the only one interested.
Things that help: friends! Writing friends, tumblr friends, discord, etc. I have some people I know I can rely on to cheer me on and even if something doesn’t do well, as long as one person likes it that’s what matters. Of course, the dream is that lots of people like it haha.
If you are missing this…see if you can build it? Comment on the works of authors you like. Chat in reblogs. Ask them questions about their writing process or tips. I did a bunch of that when I was learning and everyone had something different to share. I also met some really cool authors!
Usually, authors loooooove to talk about their work. I am no exception, haha. We put a lot of time, effort, and thought into stories and get very attached! It’s also why lack of response can be hard. Art is like that. We put ourselves out there and it’s daunting!
Improving writing skills is hard work, but does help. You can’t get better if you don’t write. A little while I ago I shared some lines from old things I wrote and they are SO cringy and bad. At the time I thought I was a literary genius.
If you worry about writing something original, try doing a fan work drabble of someone’s character if they are okay with it! Or, if this is LU, do a little scene with the boys. Make the reader care just as much as you do 💜
I hope it helps and good luck!!
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Melting the Dragon King's Heart (Part 3)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/F!Reader Summary: After falling down some stairs, you wake up in the body of a villain from one of Idia's cheesy romance books. Destined to die a fiery death, you have to figure out a way to change your fate. Word Count: 7,661 Notes: Hey all, sorry for being off the grid for so long! I've been busy and haven't had much time to do anything besides study. But we're finally at the end! I hope everyone enjoyed the story! It was a lot of fun to try my hand at writing this. Malleus is a fun character to write for.
I might have some more isekai/regression/reincarnation stories for Leona and Jamil. It's something I've been thinking about but haven't fully committed. Let me know if these ideas sound interesting and you'd like me to write on them.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Warnings: Physical abuse, emotional abuse, attempted murder, actual murder, death
Despite being in the library often, it’s always a little daunting when you first step in. There are plenty of staff to help, but shelves upon shelves of texts are still a bit much. A lot of the texts near the back are quite old. A lot of them have to be handled with care or they might just fall apart.
After asking for books on enchanted weapons, with a strange look from the librarian, you sit down and try your best to go through as much as possible. After a few hours of no success, you feel a headache coming on. Leaning back, you let out a deep, tired breath. There are plenty of enchanted weapons, some real and some just legend, but there’s nothing about the specific weapon you’re looking for.
In the story, the dagger is described as being crimson with an obsidian handle. It was originally a sword blessed by a group of fairies to take down a corrupted dragon. However, once the blade had been dipped in the ancient dragon’s blood, the blessing turned into a curse. Somehow the sword was broken but enough remained to create a dagger.
Any cut made by the blade could not be healed. No magic, no potion, no artifact could stop the bleeding. The wounded person would bleed to death. If the person was lucky, they could die in a matter of seconds. Those not so lucky would have an agonizingly slow death. Even if they were to cauterize the wound, the bleeding would continue. It would only stop once the wounded died.
“Very grim,” you mutter under your breath. For such a light hearted novel, the curse of the blade was surprising. However, it’s never used since the main protagonist is able to get it.
“Your highness, is everything alright?” the royal librarian.
Sitting up straight, you clear your throat. “I don’t think I’ll be able to find what I’m looking for. Could you put these back?” You close the book with a thump.
“Of course. Is there anything else you need?”
“No, thank you.” Deciding to head back to your office, you leave the library. By now you know how to navigate your way through the castle.
Your feet move on autopilot as your mind wanders. There must be something you can do. The only other thing you can think of is returning home to see if they’ve found the cursed dagger. Of course this would require you to figure out the relative time frame of when Yūki meets Malleus to when it's found. However, you’re unsure if following the story timeline would even be helpful with how different everything is now.
Arriving back at your office, you eye the stack of documents still left for your review. Plopping down onto the chair unceremoniously, you rub your eyes. Instead of doing the work on your desk, you find the previous book you had been reading. You never thought books about laws would be interesting, but Briar Valley has some strange laws that make reading about them fascinating.
As you flip to the bookmark, you note with some irony that the next chapter is on divorce. Perhaps when your plan had been to divorce Malleus, this would have been helpful. Though, still curious, you decide to read it. Everything about Briar Valley’s laws are complicated, though maybe not as complicated as the Queendom of Roses. There are separate laws for fae, humans, and fae-human issues.
You skip to the section on fae-human divorce since that would apply to you. “ ‘Depending on whether the parties have participated in the soul ceremony, divorce can be rather difficult though not impossible.’ What’s a soul ceremony?”
Before you can continue, Diablo knocks on the door. “Your grace, lunch is being served.” You quickly close the book before following him.
---
You’re silently reading in bed while Malleus goes through some documents. The times he used to come to your room to “hold your hand” has extended to almost every night. Instead of holding your hand, you both comfortably sit in your bed either talking or reading.
Malleus still returns to his room once it’s time for bed. You almost asked him if he wanted to stay the previous night, but you lost your nerves. There’s something very different from just reading in bed to actually sleeping next to him. You wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with him, but it’s almost been an entire year of marriage and you haven’t once slept in the same bed, so you’re unsure about how to bring it up.
Malleus shuffles his papers with a deep sigh. Glancing over at him, he rubs the bridge of his nose while muttering to himself. “Something wrong?” you ask.
He sets the papers aside on the bedside table. “Nothing really. Just that grandmother will be visiting soon. And she’s already placed certain…demands on me.”
Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “She is?!” You had only met her a handful of times. Yet, in those few formal visits, all you can recall is how intimidating both in magic and overall presence she is.
Chuckling, the fae reaches out and squeezes your hand. “No need to worry, my heart. I’ll take care of all the preparations.”
Book forgotten, you turn to him. “What did she ask for?”
“She wants her favorite room overlooking the gardens. She, of course, expects to have dinner with both of us. And a few other things about her daily walks around Briar Valley that I’m sure Diablo can take care of,” he answers, ticking off each one on his fingers.
Fiddling with the sheets, you ask, “Is there anything I can do?”
“Hmm… She didn’t say anything in her letters. But I’m sure she’ll let you know if she wants anything.” His gaze flickers over to the book in your lap.
“I should do something for her. Since it’s been awhile, maybe I can get her some flowers. Or maybe plan an outing? Do you think she’d want to have tea in the gardens? Or maybe…” As you ramble, Malleus takes the book from your lap.
He nods occasionally while he skims the page. His lips press together in a thin line. Brows furrowing, his eyes narrow. You pause when you finally notice he’s not listening. “Malleus?”
Turning away from the book, he asks in a serious tone, “Did I do something wrong?”
Blinking owlishly, you cycle back to the conversation. Yet, nothing comes to mind about what he is referring to. “What are you talking about?”
He gestures to the book. “You’re reading about divorce in regards to fae-human relationships. Did I do something wrong to make you consider divorce?” Though his tone is even, the stormy look in his eyes say otherwise. There’s a flash of lighting outside the window.
Ignoring the sudden change in weather, you shake your head. “I’m not planning to divorce you, Malleus.”
His shoulders relax and his gaze clears. “I see…”
Taking the book away from him, you set it aside. “I’ll tell you the truth. I may have considered divorce at the start of our marriage because I didn’t want you to be unhappy.” ‘I also didn’t want to die’ you add silently. “But I realized that it would be unfair to ask for divorce based on a few months together. And it would be selfish of me to not consider your own feelings.”
“If you aren’t happy here, I’d be fine with a divorce,” he says, his voice strained. “I want you to be happy.”
Leaning against his shoulder, you hum in agreement. “I am happy. And you’re happy too, right?”
“Of course,” he responds without missing a beat.
“Then there’s nothing to worry about.” Except the fact your parents possibly have a weapon that could kill him.
He wraps his arm around your middle, dragging you closer to his side so your head rests against his chest. He leans back against the pillows. You can hear the steady beating of his heart. A comfortable silence falls and you're almost lulled to sleep. The thought of sharing a room pops into your head once more.
“Hey, do you want to share a room?” you inquire, deciding to throw caution to the wind.
Malleus straightens up, which startles your comfortable position. “You wish to share a room?” His eyes are wide.
Sitting up, you find yourself picking at the sheets again. “Well, you basically come here every night, so that would be the most logical thing to do. And we are married, so it wouldn’t be strange if we decided to sleep in the same room.”
Shuffling out of bed, Malleus puts on his dragon slippers. “I will let Diablo know at once to prepare the master bedroom,” he says hurriedly.
“M-Mallues?” He has already gathered his papers and is about to head out before he stops halfway.
He walks back over to you. With a large grin, he leans down and kisses the top of your head. “I almost forgot, my heart. Good night.” Eyes twinkling, he leaves without another word.
Your mouth hangs open for a bit before you snap it closed with a click.
---
In less than a day, your new bedroom is ready. Diablo has your things moved in while you're working. The old butler seems at ease and comments how Malleus is in a wonderful mood. Everyone you pass by smiles brightly at you. You’re almost embarrassed at the fact that it seems everyone knows why he’s in a good mood. But, it’s honestly adorable.
There is a nervous feeling that settles in your stomach as you think about the logistics of sharing a room. For one, you have to share a bathroom, which isn’t much of an issue considering how massive the bathrooms are. The only thing you’re concerned about is possibly being walked in on while changing. It isn’t like you haven’t seen another naked person, but you’re self conscious about the scars on your back.
No one, besides your parents and the few people who treated you on occasion when you were unable to, knows about the scars. They’re all thin and straight, but there are so many. They crisscross from the top of your back to the small of your back. Some are very old while others are only about a year old.
You recall the faces of the few doctors who had seen the scars. Looks of shock and pity aren’t uncommon. One, you recall vividly, did not react at all, but you could see the way her hands shook. Yet, none dared to ask where the marks came from nor did they ever say anything to your parents. They valued their lives far more.
How could you blame them?
Shaking your head to clear out the bad thoughts, you decide you’ll figure out what to do when the time comes. For now, you have to decide what to do with two unexpected visitors.
There had been a commotion at the palace gates that Diablo had come to you about this morning. When you heard what happened, you immediately went to meet them. Now in the drawing room, Yūki sits across from you looking sheepish. Grim happily munches on the food offered by Diablo.
“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” you start. It’s true since Yūki and Grim are not supposed to come for another two months. It’s just another indication that the story is completely different.
Yūki sighs. “Grim kept nagging about wanting to visit. When he wants to do something, he typically won’t change his mind. I’m sorry for dropping in unannounced.”
You wave off their apology. “It’s fine. I just wanted to be able to prepare for your visit more. Diablo can prepare a guest room. It’s a little busy here because Malleus’s grandmother is visiting soon.” you explain.
“Should we leave? I don’t want to be intruding…” Grim doesn’t seem bothered as he downs a cup of tea. Diablo pours him a refill without missing a beat.
“No, it’s fine. She’s not supposed to be here for another month. So, how are your travels?” you ask, changing the subject.
They seem to relax a bit. “It’s great! We went to visit the Scalding Sands before coming here. We even got to ride a magic carpet!” Their eyes light up as they talk about their newest adventure.
You wonder how they felt in the original novel when they had to stay in Briar Valley at the end. The author didn’t mention much about what happened except that Yūki went on to rule alongside Malleus. It was implied that they never left Briar Valley. Could someone who loved traveling so much really be happy staying in one place?
At some point in the conversation Malleus comes in. He pauses when his gaze lands on Yūki. You watch as he regards them curiously. Yet, it’s only a brief pause before he turns to you to ask you a few questions about a document. He leaves right after without a second look.
A part of you is a little disappointed at the underwhelming moment of their first meeting. However, another part is happy that there isn’t some kind of instant connection between the two. You’re selfish.
“He’s scary,” Grim mutters once Malleus is gone.
“Grim!” Yūki looks at you apologetically.
“What?! I’m just telling the truth! The magic rolling off of him is intense!” The cat waves his paws around. “It’s suffocating! You might not be able to feel it henchhuman, but I can tell!”
“It’s alright. Malleus can seem rather intimidating, but he really isn’t. I promise he’s a gentle, kind soul,” you assure them with a laugh.
Yūki relaxes once more. “He obviously loves you very much,” they state while chewing on a macaron. You face warms. “He only has eyes for you,” they continue “and it seems the feelings are mutual…” A single eyebrow goes up.
Trying to hide your embarrassment, you take a long sip of tea. Clearing your throat, you can’t meet their amused eyes. “Well…yes, they are,” you say in a soft tone. You can’t lie about your feelings. “He has a good heart. We started off rocky, but we’re in a good place now.”
Yūki and Grim both glance at each other. You realize you’re probably smiling like a fool and quickly school your features as best as you can. You steer the conversation to a different topic.
Later, Diablo shows them to the guest room and you head back to your office. There’s still paperwork you need to finish. On your desk is some mail with many of them being letters from other foreign dignitaries. However, one letter causes your blood to run cold. You know that sharp but elegant script as you know the scars on your back.
Rarely have your parents sent letters. Slipping the letter opener under the envelope, you’re almost tempted to burn the letter without looking. But the fact that they sent a letter must mean something important. It’s only a single sheet with only three sentences. You blink a few times before setting down the paper. The page blurs as you feel your chest pounding and a distant, high pitched noise fills your ears.
Dearest child,
Your mother has passed. Come home so our country may mourn her. The funeral will be tomorrow.
Father
Before you can fully realize anything, the door to your office opens. Malleus steps inside with a concerned look in his gaze while holding a piece of paper. Breaking out of your daze, you zero in on the paper in his hand. It’s the same sharp writing. There’s nowhere to hide.
“My heart, I am so sorry,” he says, gently setting down the letter. You can see that your father wrote more to him in the letter. “Are you okay?”
He reaches out but pauses when he notices the look in your eyes. There’s a long pause before you find your voice. “I’m fine. Thank you…” You carefully take your own letter and fold it back into the envelope. “I should prepare to return…” you whisper.
Malleus gently takes your hand in his. “Take all the time you need. I know the mourning process can take time.”
Your heart aches at his kindness. But how can you tell him that you don’t want to go back? That you’re terrified of returning to a place that only holds bad memories? Malleus lost his parents, so he’s no stranger to loss. But you hold no sympathy for the woman who called herself your mother.
“I’ll inform Diablo. Finish up what you need here.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before leaving to find the old butler.
You stand there for a moment. Your heavy breathing is the only sound that you can hear. You stumble your way out of the study. As everything fades in the background, childhood memories come back. Memories of a younger version huddling on the bed, knees draw close to her chest. Always shaking but never crying because it would only lead to further punishment.
A voice calls out as you stumble and fall forward. You hit the ground face first but you don’t register the impact. A hand comes into your lines of vision and you instinctively jerk away.
“Don’t…” you cry out weakly.
Suddenly Yūki’s face appeared into your field of vision. They say something but you don’t really hear. They move away for a bit and return with some water. They press the cup into your hands. They place a gentle hand on your back while rubbing slow circles. Your hands shake as you stare into the cup. As your breathing slows down, the pressure in your chest lessens. After a little longer, you take a slow sip.
“Your highness?” Yūki hesitantly calls to you in a soft tone.
Swallowing, you look around. Somehow, you stumbled your way to Yūki’s guestroom. “I…I’m sorry for barging in on you…” you apologize.
Yūki offers their hand and guides you to a chair. Setting the cup on the table, you sag back into the chair. “Just take your time,” they say, taking a seat as well.
Glancing around, you note that Grim isn’t anywhere to be seen. As if reading your mind, Yūki adds, “Grim went to grab a snack from the kitchen. He probably won’t be back for a while.”
You fiddle with your hands trying to find the words. You’re sure Yūki isn’t the type to gossip, so whatever you tell them would be safe. But should you be dumping your personal problems on someone who you’ve only met a few times?
“I don’t want to burden you with my personal problems…but would you be willing to listen?” The weight of everything has always been there, but you had ignored it. But with the arrival of the letter, you can’t ignore it anymore. Perhaps hearing the advice of someone from the outside would help.
Nodding, Yūki offers an encouraging smile. So you tell them everything. Well almost everything. You tell them about the past, your parents’ plan to take over Briar Valley using your unique magic, the fact that you’ve been lying to Malleus from the beginning, that they may have the one weapon that could kill Malleus. Every word out of your mouth feels like a release. Yūki listens without saying a word and keeping their facial expression straight.
Finally, you finish and it feels like you’ve been speaking for hours. Your throat feels dry, but the weight has been lessened. You wait for Yūki to respond. It’s a lot of information to be telling someone in one sitting.
Clearing their throat, their brows draw together. “Well…sorry but fuck that’s a lot!”
Your eyebrows go up as you stare at each other. Then, you start laughing. You both burst into laughter. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard Yūki say something like that. Wiping away stray tears, you shake your head with a smile.
“Sorry for dumping all that on you. I think I just needed to tell someone.” You sigh. “I’ve been holding that in for so long, but it feels good to at least tell someone.”
They wave off your apology. “You’d be surprised how many of my friends I had to play therapist for. It’s nothing new.”
Despite the reassurance, you can see the slight sag in their shoulders. “Still, you shouldn’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m being a hypocrite since I just did the same thing, but I want you to know it’s okay to just turn away if something becomes too much. You don’t have to fix everyone’s problems.”
Looking away, Yūki chuckles softly. “You’re the first person to tell me that… Thank you.”
You want to tell them that you know about the things they have to go through in the story. But don’t because Yūki isn’t a character in Idia’s book. Despite starting out in what you understood to be a story, you’ve come to realize that the people you’ve interacted with are not characters. They’re people with their own emotions and wills.
Breathing in deeply, you flex your hands. “I’m going to tell Malleus everything. I think it’s time he knew the truth, and he can decide for himself what he wants to do.”
“That’s probably for the best. Lying usually ends up biting you in the ass later on.” You both laugh. “He clearly adores you. So, you just need to trust in him to understand.”
“Right.” You offer Yūki a wide smile. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
---
After a lively dinner thanks to Grim’s antics, you’re getting ready for bed. Malleus is already tucked in reading. Though you plan to tell him everything, you can’t help but move slowly. You had prepared a speech, but now you can’t remember a word.
Standing in the doorway of the bathroom, you regard Malleus. His shoulders are relaxed and his facial expression is almost serene. The stress from hosting his grandmother has all but disappeared. Your heart swells with affection for him. You want to live the rest of your life with him in peace and warmth. And the only way that it can happen is if you tell him the truth. Together you can figure out a way to take care of your parents.
Feeling your gaze, Malleus looks up. “My heart?” His head tilts to the side.
Taking a deep breath, you square your shoulders. “Malleus, I need to tell you something.”
He closes the book, giving you his full attention. “Why don’t you come here and we can talk?”
Hesitating, you shake your head. “I want to stand. What I’m going to tell you will be a lot.” He nods.
As you tell him everything about your life and your parents’ plans, he doesn’t react at all. You pour out all your feelings and thoughts. As the words leave your mouth, you feel even lighter. A sense of relief washes over you as you finish. You wait in agonizing silence as Malleus remains quiet. His gaze is distant as he takes in everything.
Finally, he looks at you. He doesn’t say a word as he holds his arms out to you. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you walk over to the bed. Climbing in the bed, he wraps his arms around your form and pulls you close to him.
You bury your face in his chest. You can only mutter apologizes as he holds your tight. He doesn’t say anything as you quietly sob. After what feels like an eternity, you seem to run out of tears. Your eyes are sore and puffy.
He kisses the top of your head. “Thank you for telling me the truth. It must have been difficult,” he mumbles. “We’ll figure this out together.”
Ear pressed against his chest, you listen to the steady rhythm of his heart. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was too scared,” you admit. “I was afraid you’d hate me.”
“I could never hate you.” He gently wipes away the tears that have stained your cheeks. “However, I am upset. Very much so.”
His green eyes glow dangerously as he glances out the window. Dark clouds roll in and lightning strikes. “Should I go there myself?” he muses.
“Malleus…” Placing a hand against his cheek, you turn his head so he looks at you. “Don’t do anything rash. My father is to blame not the people of my country. You can’t just go in and wipe out the country.”
Frowning, he looks thoughtful before he smiles sharply. “How about I just kill him, my heart. Or I can give you the honor of doing that.”
Leaning against his chest, you shake your head. “He might have that weapon…”
“I’ll squish before he even has a chance to think about using it.”
“This would be considered a criminal act.”
“What your parents did to you and planned to do with me are criminal acts. I’m only ending this before it can lead to something worse.”
“I don’t know if I can do it.”
“Then I’ll do it for you.”
Letting out a deep sigh, you smile to yourself as you tighten your hold on Malleus. “Let’s talk about what to do tomorrow. But thank you for offering to help despite everything.”
“Of course. I would do anything for you.”
---
The next day you wake up feeling at peace. Malleus knows the truth and he still cares about you. You don’t have to go back to that place. Stretching, Malleus tightens his hold around your waste.
You still can’t believe that someone as regal as Malleus likes to cuddle. Most mornings you spend a few minutes trying to get out of his hold. He can be rather clingy first thing in the morning. It’s cute.
“We need to get up,” you say, trying to worm your way out of his hold. He hums before releasing you.
Malleus sits up as you find your slippers. You can feel his stare and quickly look up. He’s frowning with his brows pinched together. “What’s wrong?”
“Your scars…I didn’t realize…”
Right, you usually hide them long before he can see them. But last night’s confession had taken a lot out of both of you. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, Malleus.”
Eyes narrowing, he shakes his head. “I need to talk to Lilia about what we should do.” He pauses, his brow smooths as he regards you. “Can I tell him everything you told me?”
You hesitate for a second but agree. “Yes. You trust Lilia, so I’ll trust him too.” If you’re going to do this without blowing up an entire country, you’ll need help. And Lilia seems rather level-headed under all the teasing.
Malleus leans over to peck you on the cheek. “I’ll see him now. Let me know if you need anything.”
“I’m going to head to my office once I check up on Yūki and Grim.” You feel your mouth stretch into a goofy grin as he pulls away. You’re pretty sure the butterflies in your stomach when he kisses you will never go away.
Once you’re clean and dressed, you make your way to the guest room. Yūki and Grim are already out, though the feline looks half asleep. “Morning, you two.”
Yūki gives a short wave before a yawn overtakes them. They quickly cover their mouth. “Mornin’....”
“It’s too early to be up!” Grim grumbles.
You chuckle as he yawns. “I’m sure the cooks have prepared something tasty for breakfast.”
That perks him up. “What are we standing here for?! Let's go!” He rushes ahead as Yūki follows at a slower pace.
“So… is everything okay?” They give you a sideways glance.
“Yeah. He took it well.” You give a small nod. “Thank you for listening yesterday.”
“Of course.” They offer a reassuring smile. “I was also thinking about what you said yesterday…about not needing to fix everyone’s problems…”
“Yes?”
Chewing on their lower lip, they’re silent as you near the dining room. They relax a bit when Grim turns around to beckon for them to hurry up. “You’re right. I don’t need to fix everyone’s problems. I need to learn when to take a step back and say no. I’m going to work on that. I just wanted to let you know.”
“It might take a bit of practice, but it’s good you’re taking your own feelings and well-being into consideration.” Patting them on the back, you two share a look before they’re pulled away by Grim’s shouting.
A flash near the window catches your eye and your blood runs cold. “Your majesty?” Diablo calls to you, worry etched on his wizened face. He looks out but doesn’t react. “Is something the matter?”
“D-did you see him?” you ask, your hands curl into fists.
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I did not see anything. Should I have the guards take a look?”
You pause. You don’t want to cause a scene if it’s nothing. But you also wouldn’t put it past your father to show up uninvited to drag you home. “Yes, have someone take a look. If they find Duke Wynters, please send him away.”
Without further explanation, Diablo leaves. You let out a deep breath. It could just be your own fears playing tricks on you. Joining Grim and Yūki for breakfast, you try your best to forget about it.
However, after breakfast Diablo reports that the guards did not find anyone. Not even a trace of magic. Despite that, you’re still on edge as you head to your office. Hand hovering over the door knob, the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. Grasping the handle, you throw open the door to your study with a bang.
There’s no one inside. Everything is in its usual place. You let out another deep breath and shake your head. Taking a seat, you take the nearest stack of papers to start work. You throw the stack across the room as if burned.
The letter that you had burned flutters to the floor. You jump up. “Diab-!”
A cold hand clamps down on your arm. “Don’t.” Duke Wynter’s grip is strong despite his age. Old memories hold you in place as fear settles in.
“You know, I was so disappointed when you didn’t come home for your own mother’s funeral. Tsk…” His voice is calm, but you know better.
“H-how did you-” You hate that your voice shakes.
“Get in here? There are things magic artifacts can do that can even trick a mighty dragon.” He snorts. “Now, we’re going home. And I’m sure your dear husband will follow.” He bares his teeth in a ruthless smile.
Duke Wynters pulls a small pocket mirror from his breast pocket. He tosses it out and it expands into a full length mirror. A disembodied face stares back at you. “Take us back home, Mirror,” he orders.
“As you command,” the mirror murmurs. The surface of the mirror ripples and slowly changes until it shows the image of the manor. Gripping your arm tightly, he drags you toward it.
You don’t want to go, but fear grips your body. So, you let your panic swell along with your magic. The room becomes so cold you can see your own breath. Your vision blurs as Duke Wynters screams and something explodes.
Then everything goes black.
---
Malleus sends the doors of the study flying off. The entire study has been destroyed. The windows have been blown out and a thick layer of ice coats everything. His breath comes out in small puffs of fog.
He shouts your name. The frozen chandelier shakes.
Lilia places a hand on his arm. “They’re gone. Most likely back to his home. We need to leave now if we want to catch up to them.”
Turning to Sebek and Silver, Lilia gives them both a hard look. “Malleus and I will go after the queen. You both stay here and make sure everything is okay.”
They both give him a salute. “Please take care, father,” Silver says, forgoing the formalities.
“Stay safe, your majesty!” Sebek bows deeply to Malleus.
The two fae give one last nod before they vanish.
Standing at the entrance to your home, it’s oddly quiet and deserted. Dark, gloomy clouds loom threateningly in the distance. For a brief moment Malleus wishes he could have seen you during your childhood. But that thought quickly fades as he remembers the scars that criss-cross your back. Bitterness fills his mouth and anger boils to the surface.
The front gate is locked, but he simply blows it away with a snap of his fingers. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Lilia gives Malleus a reassuring squeeze. “Everything is going to be okay. But…maybe we shouldn’t destroy everything.”
There’s a beat of silence before Malleus calms himself, though his fists remain clenched. “Let’s head inside.”
They enter the home but there’s still not a soul to be found. There’s an eeriness to the dead silence. Passing rooms, there’s evidence of the occupants hastily leaving. The two fae follow the strong presence of magic. They enter an outdoor courtyard though it looks like it’s seen better days.
There in the middle sits a figure slumped over. Malleus’s eyes widen as he rushes over calling your name. However, he’s stopped by another voice. “I’m so glad you could come, your majesty.” Duke Wynters stands on a balcony that overlooks the courtyard. Malleus notes he seems to favor his left side. Small flecks of ice cling to his tattered coat sleeve.
Clenching his teeth, his hands itch to burn him without thought. But the smug look on the man’s face makes him cautious. He has something up his sleeve if he can confidently speak down to two powerful fae.
“Let her go,” he orders. “And I will make your death a merciful one.”
The duke cackles. He gestures to the still slumped over figure. “Unfortunately, I cannot give you my dear daughter unless you’re willing to make a deal.”
His eyes burn with disgust. “Or I could just kill you right now.”
“You could. But then you’d also be killing her.” Duke Wynters raises both hands and starts moving his fingers. Now, Malleus can see what’s going on. Thin strings of magic are connected to each of the duke’s fingers. And they’re attached to you.
Your body suddenly moves. You jerkily raise your head and stand up. You're holding a dagger in one hand. Like a puppet, you mechanically point the blade at him. The strange crimson metal gleams under the low light. However, Malleus can see the pain and panic in your eyes. Despite your body being controlled, you’re fully conscious of what’s going on.
The duke continues, “You see, my unique magic allows me to control a person’s body like a marionette. However, my life and their life are connected until I end the magic. I believe you’re a smart one, you understand what I’m saying.” He grins sharply.
“What do you want?” Malleus finally asks.
The man chuckles. “All you need to do is to take her place. Call off your man and promise no harm shall come to me. In return, I’ll release your beloved.”
“How can I guarantee that once I die, you’ll keep your word?”
“Malleus I don-” Lilia is cut off with a look.
The duke sighs. “Honestly, you should have more faith in your father-in-law. But I will make a magic oath with you.”
Malleus doesn’t hesitate. “I accept.”
A wide, crazed grin forms on the duke’s face. “I knew you’d make the smart choice!”
“Malleus!” Lilia protests. “Don’t do this!”
“What choice do I have, Lilia?” Tears are streaming down your face. “If I don’t do this, she’ll die. And if she’s gone, I…I might as well be dead.”
The older fae can’t find any words. Of course he wants the queen back. But if Briar Valley loses their king, he’s not sure what will happen. However, Lilia can’t think of a way out of this. If what the duke told them of his unique magic is true, then they can’t kill him without killing you. And even if it might not be true, Malleus isn’t the type to take that sort of gamble. Not with you on the line.
Duke Wynters sighs. “This could have all been avoided if my dear stupid child had followed the plan. Instead she goes and falls in love with you.” Clucking his tongue, he shakes his head with feigned sadness. “That blade she’s holding is special. We spent so much time and resources looking for something that could kill such a powerful creature like you. The blade is cursed so that no wound made with it can be healed with magic or potions.”
Suddenly you start to jerkily walk toward Malleus while wielding the blade. The fear in your eyes shines brightly as you hold the blade inches from where his heart is. Your hand shakes.
Malleus meets your gaze. He had vowed to never make you unhappy, but it seems he’s unable to keep that promise. Reaching out, he cups your face and brushes away the tears. “Do not worry, my heart, everything will be okay.” Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he can feel the blade’s point press into him. He closes his eyes.
“NO!” The shout that breaks through the tense silence chills him to the bone. Eyes opening, he only briefly sees you smiling through your tears with the blade plunged deep into your chest. You crumble to the ground.
The duke lets out a horrified scream that turns into a choke gurgle. He clutches at his chest as he loses his balance. He falls forward and plummets from the balcony. His body hits the ground with a sickening crunch.
However, Malleus is preoccupied with the blood that seeps from your body. Holding you close to him, he attempts to use magic on the wound. He ignores the blood that soaks into his clothes. But the blade only seems to absorb it. He mutters an apology as he pulls the blade out and attempts to heal the wound. Still nothing happens.
His voice cracks, “Lilia, what do I do?!” For the first time, Malleus is powerless.
Lilia shakes his head. “I don’t know…”
Your eyes flutter open. You attempt to touch him but you have no energy, so your hand falls uselessly aside. Malleus cradles your body. “Don’t leave me! Please!”
Your eyes glaze over. “No!” Malleus screams your name, but you don’t move. Dark clouds block out the sky and the wind howls outside as green lightning flashes.
A loud, mournful roar shakes the very earth.
---
You wake to bright fluorescent lights and the sound of a steady beeping noise. There’s also the familiar music of Idia’s favorite idol game playing. Turning your head to the sound, you spot Idia sitting in a chair with his eyes glued to his phone. It’s strange seeing him. Your head feels like mush as you try to gather your thoughts. Your heart throbs painfully for a moment before the feeling fades.
“Idia?” you call him.
He looks up from his screen, eyes widening. “You’re finally awake!”
Trying to piece together the last thing you remember, you ask, “What’s going on?”
“You fell down the stairs to the subway.” He pauses his game. “The doctors said you might be confused. Do you still remember everything?”
Sitting up, you glance at the clock on the wall with a slow nod. “How long was I out?”
“About a day.”
Touching the back of your head, you wince. “Are you sure? I swear it feels like I’ve been asleep for a long time.”
“Yup. You left me a message yesterday. By the way, it’s not a cringe book! Only noobs like you would think that,” he scoffs.
“Book?” Your head feels like a jumbled mess.
He rummages through his backpack before pulling out a familiar book. “The one I lent you. ‘Melting the Dragon King’s Heart’ is a heartfelt strangers-to-friends-to-lovers royal romance! It has everything you could ask for! Evil queen, hot dragon fae, spunky protagonist and a talking cat!”
You take the book from him. Frowning, you stare at the cover. The dragon king looks like a generic dark haired man. Yet, it looks wrong. “Are you sure he always looked like this?”
“What’s wrong with the way Malford looks?” You can see the annoyance in his face.
“Malford? Are you sure that’s his name?” You point to the cover. “I swear he looked different…”
Idia shrugs. “The dragon king is Malford Drago. He’s always looked like that. Yeesh! I know you didn’t like the story but at least pay attention to the main leads.”
When trying to remember, your head throbs painfully. Letting out a deep sigh, you fall back into the pillow. “Maybe I did hit my head harder than I thought…”
Glancing at the time, India starts packing up. “Visiting hours are almost over. I’ll let the nurses know you’re awake and come back tomorrow. Do you want me to bring anything for you?”
“I’m good. Thanks, Idia.” Smiling briefly, you close your eyes as you suddenly feel tired. Even as you drift off again, you feel like something’s missing.
---
A month after your fall down the subway stairs, you’re darting across the street. Dodging cars and people, you shout into the phone pressed to your ear. “I’ll be there in a few hours, Idia! I promise! I just forgot to grab some food.”
“I have food,” he grumbles. You can hear battle music in the background.
“You have cavity-inducing candy! I need real food!” You skillfully weave your way through the people. “The raid can wait, my stomach can’t. I’ll text you when I’m heading over.” You end the call before Idia can argue further.
Despite going back to your usual routine, something feels off. The doctor had reassured you that you might feel a bit confused, but that you would be fine. You feel like something is missing. When you’re sleeping, you have such vivid dreams. Yet, when you wake up, you can’t recall anything and there’s a painful throbbing in your chest. When you checked with your doctor, they just passed it off as part of your body’s response to the accident. You tried your best to ignore it since then.
Pausing, you realize you’re standing near the subway. The same place where you fell because you weren’t paying attention. Tucking your phone into your pocket, you carefully descend down the stairs. You’re only halfway down when someone bumps into you.
“Hey!” The perpetrator rushes down without looking back.
Grumbling under your breath, you take a step. But your foot misses. You briefly wonder what Idia will say when he finds out you're in the hospital again. However, the fall never comes because the person coming up the stairs reaches out to save you.
Pressed against them, you meet familiar green eyes. They’re wide with surprise. “Are you okay?” Something about the voice sends a spark through your body. You know that voice.
Righting yourself, you frantically nod. “Y-yes! Thank you!”
He smiles. “Of course.” He pauses, brows furrowing. “You’re the one from before.”
“Huh?” You’re pretty sure you’ve never met despite the strange feeling.
He nods. “Yes, I remember. You fell down the stairs a few weeks ago. I tried to catch you but unfortunately didn't make it. I’m glad to see you’re okay, though.”
So he was the voice that called to you when you fell. “I…thank you for catching me this time. I should be more careful.”
When he smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Maybe keep both eyes forward. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt again.”
“…” You don’t know what else to say. He’s breathtakingly beautiful and even more so when he smiles. His sharp green eyes are warm when they meet your gaze. You’re usually not the type to fall for a pretty face, but you can’t deny the instant attraction.
He seems to take your silence as the end of the conversation. “It’s nice to see you again. I hope you stay safe.” He nods before heading upstairs.
You stand there on the step frozen. The further he gets, the more your heart aches. Why? Touching your chest, you bite the inside of your cheek. Taking a deep breath, you rush back up. Looking around frantically, you see him already halfway down the street.
“W-wait!” you shout. Phone pressed to his ear, he turns with a slight frown, but his expression softens when he sees you.
You rush across the street, nearly getting hit by a car. They honk loudly while yelling unintelligible out the window. Ignoring them, you rush to him. Trying to calm your erratic heart, you take a deep breath.
“Let me call you back, Lilia,” you hear him say into the phone before ending the call and tucking the phone into his pocket. “Are you okay?” he asks, a single eyebrow raised.
You nod. “I-I wanted to ask if you’d like to grab a drink with me if you’re not busy. To thank you for saving me.” Yes, that sounds like a valid excuse. And it's not like Idia expects you anytime soon.
He tilts his head to the side. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” You swallow nervously. “If you want to, that is…”
He regards you silently before agreeing. “I’d love to.”
Beaming, you hold out your hand. “Great. I’m (Y/N).”
When he takes your hand to shake, butterflies fill your stomach. He eyes your clasped hands with interest. “I’m Malleus,” he replies.
You stand there like an idiot still holding his hand. But he doesn’t seem to want to let go either. Your heart feels full and for the first time since the accident, the pain is no longer there.
Tag list: @candlewitch-cryptic, @whatstheoccasion, @nimko, @yo4sblog, @mc-cos-charm, @mochiclouds, @41sh4, @unloadingdata, @noctifer-cynoct, @rincommittedarsin, @liesatemyocean , @mavix
#twisted wonderland imagines#twst imagines#twisted wonderland#malleus draconia#twst malleus#malleus draconia x reader#malleus x reader#reader insert#scenario
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Hi there! Recently stumbled upon your Hiori piece (I Don’t Know Much, But I Know I Want You) and Oh. My. Gosh. It’s amazing!! The story was so cute and I also love the little Karasu interactions you threw in; it matches their characters so well and it’s so well written! If you ever feel motivated or inspired to do so, I’d love to see where you’d take the piece in a part 2! No pressure of course, I just think that seeing how they’d interact in your writing would be really awesome. Currently on my way to binge read every other work of yours; I love your writing style o7
Thanks for reading my ask and have a lovely day!! :)
˚୨୧⋆。 MALL MEET CUTES
part one // part two
pairing: Hiori Yo x [FEM!] Reader
genre: fluff, oneshot, classmates to lovers, friends to lovers (?), pre-bluelock au/canon compliant
synopsis: hiori is still pretty damn smitten when it comes to you, so like the lovesick fool he his, he decides to drag karasu to the mall with him to help him find a gift to impress you, of course, in a strange turn of events it turns out you're at the mall too, so whatever shall our poor loverboy do when he sees you? (or in which hiori "soccer genius" yo, is dumb enough to ask karasu of all people for girl advice, and karasu like the wonderful friend he is, tags along for the drama)
CW/additional tags: mild language, potentially ooc, i actually did research on a mall in kyoto so look at me go, might make a part three if i really feel like it
author's note: AKJFJFHAFHKJ TYYY ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET, i'm so glad you liked the first part and all of hiori + karasu's interactions, it really means a lot to me that you thought i did them justice <3
"Would getting her makeup be a good idea?"
Hiori asked his senior as he stood outside of COLOUR STUDIO, it was a cosmetics store that he heard the girls in his class talk about occasionally , you among them.
"Or would that be too intimate? Do ya' think she'd think I'm trying too hard? Maybe we should've just stuck to stationery...."
Hiori bombarded Karasu with questions as he sighed and stared up at the daunting illuminated white sign of the shop.
His friend groaned and grabbed the sleeve of Hiori's light blue sweat shirt, dragging him into the store where a few employees and clerks gave them slightly concerned looks.
"No, we're here now so we may as well get something."
Karasu chastised his younger teammate as he escorted him into the lip product aisle, in which Hiori found himself surrounded by many unfamiliar brands with colourful packaging.
"Ya' sure know yer' way around Karasu, have ya' been here before?"
"I've been to their branch over in Osaka, my sister makes me get 'er shit whenever she runs out..."
Karasu plucked a small box from the middle of the shelf, making a point to read the label and the brand to make sure it was the one he needed.
"So what are you gonna get yer' special girl?"
He asked teasingly, as his slender fingers clutched around the small container he was holding.
"I dunno actually...I was hoping you might help me?"
Hiori replied, chuckling nervously. He already knew that Karasu had an older sister, so must have some knowledge on these kinds of things.
His teammate seemed to deadpan at his friend's request, feigning a hurt expression at his friend's question.
"So I'm just a personal shopping assistant to ya'? I'm hurt Hiori."
Karasu gave him a playful pout before breaking into a mild fit of laughter after Hiori swatted his shoulder. The older boy promptly turned to one of the shelves and tossed Hiori a small pink tube of lip gloss.
"Get 'er this one, the quality is pretty good and it has a reasonable price."
Karasu said nonchalantly as his back was still turned, still browsing through some of the shelves. Hiori looked down at the product tube and read out the label to himself.
"Canmake Candy Wrap Lip..."
He muttered as he rotated the slender cylinder in his hand, reading the adhesive tag on it, he realized that Karasu was right, the price was within his budget, and the packaging was rather cute, not to mention how the tube itself contained a good amount of product.
He was about to thank his friend before realizing that Karasu was back at the front counter of the store, probably asking one of the employees for help with finding something.
Observing his surroundings, Hiori thought that browsing the shop a little bit more couldn't hurt, he still had plenty of funds to spare, more than enough to buy you something else.
Hiori continued to browse the current aisle he was in, allowing his fingers to brush against the array of cosmetics, all neatly sorted and arranged by brand, type, and flavour.
As he continued to run his hand along the rows upon rows of products, he stumbled across another area of products that caught his eye.
"Rohto Mentholatum Lip Balm..."
He read the mini card board sign that was clipped to the shelf as he observed the packaging. The one's that were currently stocked were said to be peach flavoured, the price seemed fairly reasonable as well.
Now, that he thought about it, having a lip balm on hand would be pretty practical, Hiori hated the feeling of his chapped lips. Plus, he deserved some kind of reward.
Hiori reached for one of the tubes, and right before he was about to take the lip balm from the shelf, his fingers brushed against a stranger's hand who was reaching for the exact some one.
On instinct, Hiori pulled away, muttering a quick apology. He turned to said stranger to say tell them that they could take it before realizing that said stranger wasn't a stranger at all.
"Oh! Hiori?"
Oh God, it was you
"H-hey!"
He managed to squeak out as you gave him a soft smile, he was surprised he hadn't made a complete fool of himself yet. Without realizing it, he had promptly shoved the tube of lip gloss he was going to buy for you into his back pocket.
"Hi! I didn't realize you were the shopping type Hiori."
You greeted him once more as you observed the hand that quickly pocketed the lip tube, you didn't press any further however.
"Oh, I'm not actually, I'm just getting a gift for someone special..."
Hiori chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. He chastised himself for his wording, of course he had to say it like that, now if he gave you the gift you'd know for sure that he liked you.
But then again, that would spare him the humiliation of actually having to say it directly to your face, not that he ever wanted to confess in the first place...
"Someone...special? I didn't know you had a girlfriend Hiori..."
You trailed off, you sounded disappointed almost.
Hiori's face flushed at your words, he didn't mean to give you that idea. He could slowly feel heat creep up his neck as you continued to stare at him.
"Guess I shouldn't be that surprised..."
This time you were avoiding eye contact, you laughed somewhat bitterly. Were you jealous? Part of Hiori wanted to delude himself into thinking that, but another part of him wanted to die right there and then to avoid making a bigger fool out of himself.
"N-No I don't have a girlfriend actually!"
He assured you as his face turned an even brighter shade of red.
Where was Karasu when ya' needed him?
Suddenly, Hiori felt a light tap against his head. It was Karasu! His knight in shining armor, to save him from the train wreck of a conversation. His teammate was holding a small basket full of a few products, some mascara, eye liner, and a few skin cream tubs among them.
"I'm gonna go check out now, are ya' done yet?"
His friend asked as he rested his hand on Hiori's shoulder, Karasu looked up at you, realizing that there was company present.
The silence that followed was deafening.
You glanced between the two boys, you had recalled Karasu from Hiori's youth team, but you didn't know much about the older boy, but you had spotted him hanging around Hiori pretty frequently, so you assumed that they were fairly close.
"Oh, I'm sorry am I interrupting something?"
You questioned as your eyes flickered between the two of them, your head was tilted slightly in curiosity. You noticed Karasu's grip on Hiori's shoulder tighten ever so slightly at the sound of your question.
Hiori shook his head frantically, Karasu was probably giving you that same unsettling stare he always used whenever he was sizing someone up on you.
"No! Not at all! But I should get going right about now..."
He assured you that nothing was wrong, but he was already flustered enough, and there was no way Karasu would let him hear the end of whatever this incident should be labelled as.
"Well I'll see you school I guess!"
You flashed him another bright smile before turning to Karasu, and you gave the older boy a curt and quick bow.
"I'm (Y/N), Hiori's classmate, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Karasu was caught off guard by your sudden politeness, but he returned the favour.
"Karasu."
He stated quickly before taking Hiori's hand in his own, you seemed to take note of this.
You were about to walk away, so you waved to them before saying;
"Have fun on your date!"
Wait what?!
If Hiori's face was red before, it was basically crimson by now. The girl he liked not only thought he was taken, but now she thought he was into guys?!
"W-we're not!-He's not-I'm not-"
Karasu simply wheezed at the current predicament, clearly amused by your assumption of Hiori and him's relationship and by his younger friend's sudden flustered expression.
"I wish! Don't worry yer' pretty little head off though, he's still avaliable∼. He's quite taken with you at that too."
Karasu teased as he winked at Hiori, clearly taking sadistic pleasure in his friend's suffering.
"Karasu!"
Hiori whisper shouted as his friend dragged him out the store, still laughing as the cyan-haired boy continued his flustered protests which bore no fruit.
Well at least you knew how he felt now...
BONUS!
"This is why I told ya' to quit flirting with me like that! People are getting the wrong idea about us..."
"Aww but I can't have random girls stealing you away from me∼"
"Shut up ya' stupid crow!"
"Make me prodigy∼"
#hiori x reader#hiori x you#hiori x y/n#hiori yo x reader#hiori yo x you#hiori yo x y/n#yo hiori x reader#yo hiori x you#yo hiori x y/n#hiori#hiori yo#yo hiori#karasu#karasu tabito#tabito karasu#blue lock x reader#blue lock x you#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x female reader#bluelock
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Writing Tip - Drafting Stories
I have a long history of writing fanfiction (about a decade’s worth) and while I’d like to consider this a pretty chill hobby where I can pants myself through each fic, with each story unfurling into Xk words of awesomeness, unfortunately I’m a perfectionist about everything I do, so I’m a chronic plotter for every little story. It slows down my writing process a lot since I want to make sure I have all my details in line before I start writing the first draft (which I admittedly shouldn’t worry about but again, perfectionist), but this process has allowed me to figure out what I absolutely need before I can start writing.
Establish what your major character(s) want: you probably have a decent idea of who the major players of your story are and their personalities and backstories, now you need to decide what problem(s) of theirs will be addressed in the story. It will serve as the motivation behind all of their actions throughout the plot. This can include the problems they have at the beginning of the story, like Character A begrudgingly needing Character B’s help to learn a special type of spell, as well as problems that arise as the story progresses, like Character A developing romantic feelings for Character B after spending more time with them.
Decide where you want your characters to be at the end of the story: you don’t have to have your ending completely set in stone, it could change as you’re writing your first draft, but it’s good to have some kind of ending in mind so that you have a direction to work towards while you’re drafting. Maybe Character A successfully learns the spell and decides to stay with Character B because they’ve gotten used to spending time with them and they end up in a romantic relationship. Maybe Character A parts ways after getting what they need but they feel remorse from making that choice.
BONUS - Note any scenes that you would like to happen within the story: they don’t have to be fully formed or even make sense, if they spark even the smallest bit of joy in you write them down. Just a bullet point list of scenes will do. These can serve as guide points within your plot as you’re writing, so that facing the empty expanse of the middle of your story isn’t as daunting. It could be something relevant to the main plot, or it could be something simple like Character B, who is normally somewhat stoic, showing happiness at something small and Character A is enamored from seeing their smile for the first time.
If you have the above information sorted out, you have the necessary building blocks to start writing your first draft. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but don’t sweat the other details for now; everything else can be figured out while you’re writing or in later drafts. Now go forth and write that story!
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What’s your favorite fic by theashemarie? I want to read her stuff, but I’m so intimidated by how much there is!! Where do I start?
OH ANON HOW I’VE BEEN DYING TO ANSWER THIS ONE!!!!
You’ve opened up THE can of worms my good fellow…
I am so sorry for the person i’m about to become
I’ve actually spent the last couple days making a simplified compilation of Ashe’s works, to make it easier for new readers to visualize them.
It’s the reason why it has taken me some time to answer this haha.
As for my favourite fic…. That’s such an insanely hard question to answer T_T
I’ll put the compilation & my thoughts under the cut to minimize dashboard noise.
(Disclaimer: i’m not a writer so some of the terms I use are from my loose understanding of literature!)
Warning for rambling ahead!!
I tried to make the fomatting as straightforward as possible! If there are any other questions you can drop a comment :)
As for the fav fic stuff:
I don’t think I can have a hard singular favourite of Ashe’s fics, because they’re all different and encompass different themes and vibes and ideas, and fuck man they’re just so good. Ashe has a masters degree in writing and it SHOWS, but also just her writing style & way of developing stories.. it’s so captivating, rich and thoughtful. I love analyzing their work & being rewarded with the amount of detail and effort that is put into it.
Here’s a couple that fucked me up particularly good though, if you must know:
LDR AU | Meet Me on the Rink | And Take Off Your Mask | Simulacrum | Language Barrier
At least two of these majorly impacted my life & mean a whole lot to me because of the themes, topics and characterization in them.
I think one of my favourite things about Ashe’s works is how visceral and raw and real they feel while you read ‘em. There’s a real strong focus on the plot, which makes for a fantastic build up throughout the story. There’s also emphasis on characterization, and by the gods it’s deliciously crafted. The direct and indirect ways in which Ashe portrays the personalities, flaws and motivations of characters… MAN.
A lot of people read fics for a quick hit of fluff or angst, so plot-heavy, meaty fics with a lot of undertones and somewhat unconventional themes can be very different from typical expectations.
Still, I stand by the fact that it’s exactly because of this that Ashe’s work is so refreshing and fascinating to read through, and I strongly encourage everyone to give it a try, especially if you like Off the Hook.
She also has a lot of oneshots and shorter stories that I listed above, if longer ones feel daunting. They’re just as good!!
I’m really grateful that they share all of this work online; creating entails a lot of work, whether it be art, writing, cosplay, etc.
Posting it for free on top of that??? I think we need to appreciate our fic writers more, honestly. They’re a huge pillar in fandom spaces that often goes unnoticed.
That’s my little ramble on the topic, thank you for reading if you went this far!
I hope this helps Anon, and if you need more pointers or thoughts you can hit me up again.
With all that said, big shout out to @theashemarie , this is my big propaganda post for you all to follow her and/or check out their work, and leave her a comment if you enjoy the fics!! I know they appreciate them a lot :)
#squid asks#theashemarie#I had to update the list again because ashe posted a new fic lol#it was really funny#finally I am free as well#this has been eating at my brain for days!!#i’ve been wanting to work on other stuff but#I REALLY wanted to answer this ask asap#I’ll get to my other ones eventually too. thanks for sending them!#I love getting asks#fic recs#off the hook#pearl houzuki#marina ida#pearlina#splatoon#squid rambles#moot’s work
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Deadloch fic rec list!
There's some really enjoyable fic out there in this fandom — this is by no means an exhaustive list. In fact, my whole reason for posting it is to encourage people to explore what's out there, if you haven’t yet.
That said, here are my personal favorites. I really love a fic where a character's voice has come through really well, and that's true of all of these.
Eddie, Dulcie and Cath:
north to the ocean, hotter than the sun by halfeatenmoon (explicit)
This is so hot and so funny. I love this Cath: so in-character and so completely excellent. So many of her and Eddie’s lines in this made me die laughing ("domestic"!!). And I really love Dulcie and Eddie’s vibe, here; their interactions made me flail so hard.
Deadloch, day eight by Despire (teen and up)
One of my favorite things about the show was the way Eddie looks at Dulcie, and how it changes over time as they get closer. This fic...has somehow managed to capture that energy perfectly, and it really got me in my feelings. I love Eddie so much and I love Eddie with Dulcie so much.
Keep On Gruckin’ by kirazi (explicit)
This fic includes a lot of little character notes that feel so absolutely right, to me, particularly for Dulcie and Cath. I love how…sort of shy Dulcie and Eddie are around each other. And I love seeing what Dulcie loves about Cath; I love seeing those two in a really believable, really happy relationship. Searing hot, as well.
house rules by halfeatenmoon (teen and up)
This has two things I love: Eddie and Cath becoming friends, and Dulcie playing the straight man/stooge who has to deal with their shenanigans. This is so in-character and so cute and fun.
despite all my bad decisions by DeanBean (explicit)
I love this version of Dulcie SO MUCH. She has a lot of overlap with how I see Dulcie, actually. I really buy her — I felt very convinced by this and like I could see the things that were happening while I was reading. Excellent, and also so hot.
In Plain Sight by applesforthis (explicit)
I feel awkward reccing my own fic. But, well — I posted it on April first, and afterward a couple people pointed out that tumblr was full of boops that day and that many people may have missed it for that reason. If you want a very character-driven, slow-build Eddie/Dulcie(/Cath) story leading to polyamory, with lots of personal growth and relationship-building and a very happy ending, then this is for you.
Abby-focused:
The difference is kissing someone you actually like by Lenore (teen and up)
This Abby is so absolutely in-character. And so is Deadloch. Can a place be said to be in-character? I don’t know but this fic has nailed it. I love seeing Abby’s ups and downs as she works on doing something daunting without the support that she’s used to. I love how much she loves her job, and I love the happy ending.
Everything Good Happens After Midnight by skyvillage (teen and up)
This is so sweet. I really liked Abby and Sharelle being friends in canon, and this feels like such a natural extension of that.
#deadloch#deadloch fic rec#fic rec#fanfiction rec list#fanfic rec list#fanfiction recommendation#dulcie collins#eddie redcliffe#cath york#abby matsuda#sharelle muir#kate the forensic pathologist
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How Not to Commit a Crime Against Historical Fashion–A Basic Guide for Writers
I have been reading a lot (mostly YA) (pseudo)historical (fantasy) novels (and let’s not even get started on what’s going on TV), and I’m stunned and horrified by the complete lack of basic understanding of historical fashion most authors display (not you, Rebecca Ross, darling, you didn’t do anything wrong). So here is a little guide from a miffed little gremlin who knows just a tad bit more about what people wore in the ye olden days than the average person (really, I’m no expert), so YOU don’t commit these heinous crimes:
First and foremost, and I cannot stress this enough: clothing and fashion don’t exist in vacuum. They are intrinsically tied to culture, climate, and, maybe most importantly, technology.
For the most of history (and I’m primarily talking about Western history here, sorry), people wore a simple base layer under their clothing: chemises, shifts, undershirts, underpants, drawers, combinations. Women and men! These had a very important function: they protected the actual outer layers from sweat, and protected the skin from chafing (e.g. from a corset). In the time and day when you didn’t have sewing and washing machines, outer clothes were relatively super expensive, while doing laundry was an actual nightmare. You didn’t want to wash you gowns much, because it was hard on your hands and on the fabric as well. So instead you wore a chemise–made of, most likely, some inexpensive, white material, in an easy-to-sew shape–, and changed and washed that chemise frequently. So as long as your worldbuilding doesn’t include (basically) fast fashion and washing machines (washing spells?), you really, really wanna have your characters to wear an undershirt/chemise.
You also have to think about colors. Chemical dying had a great advancement in the 1860s, which brought on a plethora of new and bright shades that actually lasted. Women’s clothing thus became extra and blindingly colorful, while men’s clothing went… black. As before these chemical dies black dye was hard to make and it also faded fast. (So yeah, your medieval bad guy is actually not that likely to wear black.) Purple is extra tricky, as it was traditionally made from a little creature called the purple dye murex, and making such dye was a lot of work and thus super expensive–so for the longest time only the wealthiest wore purple: senators, cardinals, kings…
(I just read a scene today where in the late 1800s Sicily a male character exchanged a leather shirt for a black (linen?) one at the town market, which he put right on the skin. I was understandably upset and manifested the author stepping on a piece of Lego.)
Climate really determines what people wear: think not only about the temperatures, but what raw materials are available at the climate. (Like, can they wear silk? Are there silk worms in this world? If yes, where? How can the characters have access to it?) Also, do not be daunted by the layers and think that your characters would be sweating buckets in the summer: we are talking about natural materials here which breathe.
Also, I’m not happy to rain on your parade, but generally speaking your (pseudo)historical character wouldn’t be showing too much skin in public. They don’t have sun screen, so they’d be protecting their skin from the sun by covering up–no short sleeves and super low necklines for you! However, evening attire can be more daring (short sleeves! Uncovered shoulders! Décolletage!)
I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating: before the… say second third of the 19th century, you don’t have corsets. You have stays, that give the body a conical shape. Then at the turn of the 18th-19th centuries you have transitional stays, which might be closer to modern bras/bralettes than you’d think. The point of these is to push the boobs up (since the gown is loose around the stomach, there is no point in trying to shape the silhouette there). Then you have corsets. You cannot tightlace (drastically shrink the waist) until the mid-19th century, when metal eyelets in corsets are introduced (and so they can take more tension). Still, it was more like an exception than a rule.
“Whalebone” is not actual bone. It’s baleen, those thingies in the whales’ mouth they use to filter their food from the water. Baleen is made of keratin, the same substance that makes up your fingernails, making them flexible.
Also, it’s just my general advice: try not to conceptualize corsets as bras, but as shoes: they need to be broken in, but once they are molded to your body, they are rather comfortable.
Clothes also play a cultural function–they have a meaning, a function. E.g. the point of panniers (those wide hip-thingies in 18th century gowns) and crinolines was that the women who wore them took up a lot of physical space. Women might not really had much say in everyday life, but they used fashion to show that they are there (men hated it, btw).
General silhouette guide to the 19th century, very roughly:
1800-1820s: Regency (brr, I’m gonna say it… Bridgerton). Boobs up, waistline right under the boobs, skirt is light and loose, with not much volume (will end up looking like a nightgown if the costume designer is not careful enough)
1820s-1830s: waistlines are going down (but still kinda up), skirts are getting fuller, sleeves puffier
1840s-1860s: waistline down to the natural waist, skirts are getting really full with huge crinolines, sleeves slim down, pagoda sleeves (getting wider down from the elbow) later down the road
1870s: First bustle period. Skirts get flat in the front and the sides, stick out in the back.
Turn of the 1870s-1880s: Natural form era. The bustle shrinks.
1880s: Second bustle period. The bustle comes back, gets even bigger.
1890s: Skirts become more A-lined, sleeves get puffed up (till they are ridiculous), chest shaped like a dove’s
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Have any advice with how to start a fic?
Mostly like promoting and keeping enough motivation to draw referances
I’m working on a fnaf one about Michael during fnaf six called The Man In The Mask but I don’t know where to start with production other than writing
Hello there! Nice to see you again.
Starting a fic is always the daunting part of making one, but I always make sure to have written down an outline and knowing the in and outs of your narrative (character arcs, how do you want things to progress, outlines of your chapters, how do you want it to end, etc).
I can't say much about promoting, because I personally think it comes down to luck (I didn't expect ppl to even like my work to begin with), but I think as long as you put your work out there, there will be people who will find your work and be interested in it no matter what. Don't let the lack of engagement of your content discourage you as well -- make sure you do your content for your own happiness and enjoyment as well! (Of course, there's nothing wrong with finding happiness in sharing and people finding/appreciating your work - but engagement ≠ the worth of your work existing, and I have to emphasize that very heavily)
Honestly I'd stick to writing it out the first chapter first than making references UNLESS you really want to put down how you want Michael (or other characters) to look in your fic (especially if you plan to have your own distinct design to him), but I don't blame you for finding references daunting and difficult - they're so difficult to create and draw. I honestly don't know what to advise you for this part as I also personally have a hard time making reference sheets and whatnot - a silly part of me tends to think about how satisfied I'd be seeing it finished and being able to use it for future purposes as a little thing that motivates me.
It's okay as well if you want to create references/artworks as you go along with writing the actual fic, though!
Make sure to make an outline first of your entire fic story (and outlines for chapters you'll write about), and don't stress out too much about the process of everything else - sometimes the frustration/pain of writing is part of it, it makes finishing the work/going through it all the more satisfying. You can even get a beta reader if you want a fresh pair of eyes to look at it.
I'm curious to see what you'll write in the future though! :] I'd love to read it someday, but no rush at all! You can't rush art after all :]
I hope this helps 😭 Sorry for the longgg response.
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Aaaaah, I love stuff like this, thank you!
Tagged by: @copperarsenite
Tagging: @feeisamarshmallow @allonsymiddleearth @iceberg-hootenanny (and basically anyone who wants to, honestly)
rules: post the first lines of up to 10 of your last fics/chapters posted on ao3 or your wips and try to draw some conclusions.
I'm going with fics in general, not chapters (because otherwise it would be entirely Satisfaction), and probably sticking to VM fic because all the Tolkien stuff I've posted recently has been crossposting. So last five posted and last five WIPs worked on. :)
(Also, warning that the second-last sentence has a racial slur (used by a character.))
Satisfaction
Veronica’s dad was the sheriff, so she was usually pretty scrupulous about not breaking the law.
Flipping the Script
All Jade wanted was to get her mother’s car and drop it off with enough time to get to the library before it closed, and since the library was open late on Thursdays and she’d stopped to pick it up at 4 PM, it hadn’t seemed that difficult.
Unexpected Dividends
It was probably weird to run a to-do list for your boss in your head, but Eli had been doing it since his second month on the job, because Fred was competent, and reasonably organized, and obviously he was a hell of a mechanic, but his ability to prioritize was a little bit whacked out.
The Most Important Part
“Hot date?”
The Art of Starting Over
It turned out that calling your sort-of boyfriend after a whole week and a half of radio silence was daunting.
Choices (upcoming post S4 oneshot)
Jade grew up in San Diego.
Hunger Games AU for 'X universes Veronica didn't grow up in'
I didn’t sleep well, the night before the Reaping.
untitled WIP (zombie non-AU, post-S4)
Veronica made it home for the end of the world.
Carmen for 'Would've, Could've, Should've' (pending oneshot series)
Yesterday, Carter Phelps shoved Carmen into the stair railing and called her a wetback, like her parents swam all the way here from Venezuela.
Circle of Magic AU for 'X universes Veronica didn't grow up in'
The first time the Guard caught Weevil breaking into a rich man’s house, they tattooed an X on the web of skin between his thumb and first finger and threw him into a cell for the night.
*
So for the obvious – I favour third person (which I knew), and I’m a bit heavier on female POVs than I anticipated (which I’m pleased with, actually). Also very Jade-heavy, and since I’m already 50% of the Jade/Eli tag on AO3, that doesn’t exactly shock me.
(It’s not immediately obvious for all of them, but every single one of these is Weevil-heavy, which is the most unshocking thing possible. I think I have exactly one VM fic in progress where he’s not central to the entire premise, and even there he’s still majorly present.)
Other than that, the closest thing to a trend that I can pick up is that apparently I like opening sentences that feel either dynamic or relatable? Satisfaction and the post-canon zombie fic both have the more classic hook of raising questions about what’s going on, and most of the JEC fics as well as Carmen’s WCS entry are an attempt to jump you right into the characters’ heads or at least their social reality. Whereas the fusion AUs seem to establish their crossover-fandom immediately (THG with an immediate reference to a well known part of that universe, and COM by heavily echoing Briar’s introductory sentence). I don’t know if I did it on purpose, but I like it, so I’ll have to see how much/if that holds true for the other ones in the series. (The BTVS and Animorphs ones are harder, because they involve discovering something, but the summary of the latter will definitely start with My name is Veronica…, and the 1-800-WHERE-R-U one starts with a direct shout-out.)
Anyway! I’d be interested to know if there’s anything that strikes you. :)
#tag meme#revenge gambit fic#fanfic#my own work#jade navarro#veronica mars#i've posted so much satisfaction-related stuff lately i'm very happy#i am sad i couldn't work in the hector installment of wcs though#i have so much of it (partially) written but i'm still not positive what comes first unfortunately#which makes first lines hard to pin down#the pull line is great though:#'The month Weevil gets engaged; Hector lays his bike down on the highway.'
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Mixed Feelings about the Malware Arc (Ben 10)
The Malware arc, to me, left much to be desired. With the lesson Ben was meant to learn in the arc and the emotional impact of its conclusion heavily dampened due to the pacing and lack of buildup.
Basically, from my perspective, the arc with Malware was supposed to teach Ben to forgive himself for losing Feedback. Which might I add, is already a daunting message to tell (to me at least, I mean it hit me like a truck). In retrospect, yeah that is a hard-hitting topic that contrasts heavily with the more “kiddy” direction Omniverse is taking, at least compared to its predecessor: Ultimate Alien which often (to the best of their ability when the network was breathing down their necks) tackled darker topics and had a moodier atmosphere.
This message was reached and confirmed with Past Ben and Present Ben interacting. I felt the entire scene with Past Ben and Present Ben interacting was honestly pretty hard hitting, at least for Omniverse’s first season. With Past asking Present if he learned anything, and Present saying, "yeah that losing bites" and Past, with his eyes downcast, asking if Ben was still mad at him after all these years was just wow. And when Present got down to Past's level and agreed that instead of beating up his past self about what happened, he’d instead focus on what he can do in the now (Ben's way of saying he’s come to terms with what happened and is forgiving his ten-year-old self). I actually really liked that scene; it would have been an amazing turning point in Ben’s character.
However, even with the little praise I give it, the entirety of it felt sorta misplaced. Now this scene could totally work if the pacing hadn’t been so butchered. If we had more scenes with Feedback and really saw the closeness Ben had with him then this scene would’ve hit so much harder. In this arc we barely got any Feedback scenes or really how the loss of Feedback really affected Ben other than a few one off lines about how he feels whenever anyone brought up Feedback or some, one off flashbacks of 11 year old Ben using him, as most of season one consisted more episodic episodes than an overarching story (not including the episodes with Zip and the Hunter, and Malware)
Literally in the episode RIGHT before the conclusion to Ben’s arc (the Past and Present scene) we are shown what happened to Feedback. (Malware literally ripping Ben from his alien form was just wow and I don’t even know where to start with that). If they have given us more time to digest and see the impact Feedback made on Ben when he was taken, then it would’ve been all the more emotional to see Ben be reunited with his favorite alien. Having us see Feedback’s death scene just for him to immediately be brought back in the literal next episode was just too much to swallow at once. It’s hard to explain but it would’ve been neat to see that scene with Ben losing Feedback earlier in the season. Perhaps when Ben first saw Malware, he could get a flashback, or we could have an episode focusing on Rook trying to get to know Ben better and learning about what happened through Gwen. Not only would it give us more time to digest what happened to Feedback before he is revived but we can also see more character interaction with Rook, a current partner of Ben’s, and Gwen, who used to be partnered up with Ben and maybe contrasting they’re views on him and what is feels/felt like to be partnered up with him. It moves the plot forward, does not give us mediocre, forgettable, and practically useless episodes, and we get more character interaction. Fillers are always a great opportunity to go more in depth with the characters when they aren’t doing something with the overarching conflict and a lot of fillers in Ben 10 are often wasted to random, fast action mini-plots (not to say that is bad because it definitely isn’t, I personally loved the Billy Billions episode and loved Billy and Ben interacting, but I wish there was more variety in the fillers than a one off crisis that is dealt with in random episodes)
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Critical Role - Live Show - 25/10/2023
I wasn’t sure if I was going to make a post about this but here we are.
I still can’t really believe that I went to the CR live show.
(Somewhat personal) ramble under the cut:
I started watching Critical Role after the first season of the legend of vox machina came out.
I didn’t actually get that far into campaign one before tapping out, but then season 2 of tlovm was released and, after watching and loving it, I decided to give the campaign(s) another go.
This was earlier this year (around Jan/Feb - which is insane because it feels like CR has been a part of my life for so much longer than that), so it’s fair to say I’m a fairly new fan (at least in comparison to a lot of others).
But despite the daunting amount of content, I binged and managed to catch up (I watched all three campaigns as well as most of their other content in time to watch C3E64 live) and the show has become one of the greatest and most reliable sources of joy in my life (which I honestly did not expect but I am so thankful for).
I love this show. I love all three campaigns; all the different characters, the stories they’ve told, the journeys they’ve taken us on. I love this group of people, both on camera and off, who have done such an incredible thing with this show, that I truly did not understand the appeal of or effect of until I gave it a real chance.
Which brings me to the 25th of October. Just over a week before the date, I bought a resale ticket to the CR live show in wembley (for probably far too much money - but no regrets) on a bit of a whim.
It was in a location that worked for me, it was their first international live show, their first live show in so long, and it was at such an interesting and important time in the story for this whole main campaign universe. So everything was telling me to go for it despite never having done anything like this before (which is why I hadn’t even considered it when the tickets first came out).
And it was genuinely one of the best nights of my life. It still feels so surreal that I was there, and got to see them play live, and I got to feel the energy in that arena, because it was all absolutely incredible.
I don’t really know what the point of this post is; I just kinda wanted to get these thoughts and emotions out a little because I’m still thinking about it almost a week later. I am so grateful for this show, these people, these stories, these characters, everything. And I’m so glad I got to experience this at a point in my life when it really does mean so much to me.
#critical role#critical role spoilers#cr spoilers#the mighty nein#echoes of the solstice#tm9 reunion#cr live show#critical role appreciation#personal#rambles#cr cast
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Hi! I love your writing!!! do you think you could write something of viktorxasexual!reader? like either just headcanons or maybe a short drabble of like the reader coming out or something? that would be super cool!
p.s. seriously i reread your stuff like everyday, your writing style is gorgeous and i love how strong the character voice always feels!
omg fellow ace hello?
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Viktor x ace!Reader
-So you guys have probably been friends for a while before you start, like, dating. I feel like Viktor is the kind of person who would need a stronger foundation in friendship before taking a step into something less platonic.
-That being said, the dating aspect of your relationship is still relatively new. You’re friends, you know each other super well, but now you’ve got a whole new area to explore and learn about, and it’s…a little bit daunting.
-You never really thought you’d be telling him about your sexuality. Not because you’re ashamed of being ace or anything - mostly because you never thought it would come up in any of your conversations.
-But now that you’re together, you know that there are certain norms and expectations. Not that you really care what other people think, especially since it’s none of their business. But you and Viktor haven’t really spoken in depth (or at all) about any potential physical aspects.
-You know he’s got his own limitations, and you know he might also be dreading the sex conversation, but…your biggest worry is that he’ll take it personally. Logically you know that he won’t, but a little part of you can’t help but stress over him reacting poorly and internalizing it.
-The last thing you want is for him to resent you, or worse, feel bad about himself.
-So when you sit him down one evening, tucked up quietly together on the couch in your apartment, with the quiet rasp of music playing in the other room, he automatically knows something is up. He knows you - he can feel the tension in your body as you recline against him.
- “Is everything alright?” he wonders softly, letting his cheek come to rest on the top of your head.
-You’re silent for a few moments, before you sigh. Deeply. And begin your explanation.
-How you’d spent so long trying to figure yourself out, looking at labels and definitions and trying desperately to match them up to your feelings. Identifying as several different things, none of them ever feeling quite right. None of them ever fully explaining the way your mind and your heart feel.
- “I swear, V. It’s not you - I promise it’s not you. I just don’t- I don’t feel- I’ve never felt-” You cut yourself off with a frustrated grumble, wrapping your arms around your body in an attempt to soothe yourself.
- “I’m asexual,” you finally say, somewhat grateful that you’re not looking at him. “I never told you because I didn’t think it was important to our friendship - quite frankly, it was none of your business. But…but we’re together now, and I love you. I love you so much. And I know you might have some reservations, or expectations, or your own anxieties, and I-”
-The last thing you expect to feel is the tender pressure of his lips on your temple, chaste and warm against your skin, and his slender arms carefully wrapping around you, holding you steady against his chest.
- “You were worried I might not approve?” he asks.
-You press your lips into a line. “Not entirely,” you admit. “I…was honestly kind of anxious that you might take it as me not being sexually attracted to you. You specifically.”
-He nods in understanding.
- “But it’s not you,” you reiterate, turning your head by a fraction to peer at him as best you can. “I just don’t feel that way about anyone. I never have. It doesn’t mean I love you any less - doesn’t mean I don’t want to sleep next to you at night, or cuddle, or hold you hand, or kiss you! But…”
-Your trail off sadly, glancing away. “I know that’s still a deal breaker for some people. And I just…I wanted to get it out of the way before we got too far, in case you…I dunno. Don’t want me anymore.”
-He’s still for several moments, and in the silence you can almost hear the cogs and gears turning in his mind, making sense of your words and organizing everything into tidy lists.
-And then, his arms tighten around you, and he nestles his chin into the curve of your neck, pressing his cheek against you, his fluffy hair tickling your skin.
- “If I’m being honest,” he begins, “that is…somewhat of a relief.”
-Your shock is palpable.
- “My…eh…libido has never been particularly high. Even more so now that I am no longer in my adolescence. This is not to say I completely lack interest, it’s just…I don’t possess the stamina necessary to regularly satisfy a partner who…who wants…”
-You bite back a smile at his awkwardness, feeling the heat from his undoubtedly pink face seep into your neck.
- “All this to say - I’m happy you’ve told me,” he finishes. “This is our relationship, which means we get to make the rules. If sex isn’t something you want, then that’s alright. The odd time I do get the inclination, I’m well enough to use my own hand.”
-The dam finally breaks, and you start giggling, partially due to how he barely manages to grate out some words, but mostly because you’re happy. Relieved. Elated that the man you love is so wholly accepting of you.
- “Just so we’re clear, though,” he says again, “You are still alright with kisses, no? And other affections?”
-Finally, you’re able to fully relax against him, practically melting into his arms. “Yeah,” you sigh, entirely pleased, “But only ever from you.”
#there are many different flavours of ace#i uhhhhhhh used my own for reference#viktor x reader#viktor arcane x reader#arcane x reader#viktor headcanons#arcane headcanons
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day 30: two heads are better than one
idiom: used to say that it is easier for two people who help each other to solve a problem than it is for one person to solve a problem alone. characters: grinnaux de dzemael, paulecrain de fanouilley, warrior of light word count: 929 notes: endwalker spoilers. there’s something to be said for surviving the end of the world.
Not to say that there’s a problem — not anymore anyway, thank the Fury —
It still takes time for her to wake up, after. It’s an agonizing period of touch and go, even after Thancred finally sneaks them into her room at the chirurgeons’. Grinnaux can only imagine what the first few days after the Ragnarok’s return were like, when he and Paulecrain were still left threatening whatever mage or Scion they could hunt down for information.
But then thankfully, finally —
(It really is damning that she can’t believe that she’s alive — that even she cries once it sets in that she’s safe, that she’s home. He tells himself that he’ll scold her for it later, when he isn’t so blinded by sheer relief.)
“You could return, you know,” she tells them weakly one afternoon, still bedridden. “I don’t know if Thancred told you, but —”
“Yes, yes. We know all about your little contingency plan,” Paulecrain cuts in dryly.
She smiles, sheepish, near guilty in response. “...I told you I make good on my promises. Better to have a contingency than nothing at all, what with the possibility of — well. You know.”
Grinnaux, for once, hums in lieu of the more scathing remark that lingers on his tongue. She still gets the message regardless as she clears her throat, continues, “I hear Ser Aymeric announced the pardon a few days prior. So, if you’re eager — or just bored, I know this can’t exactly be riveting —”
“Arcelia.”
“I just don’t want you to feel — obligated —”
Another set of unimpressed looks is enough to have her concede, warmth rising to her cheeks.
(Because they’ve already talked about it a few nights prior, while she had been fast asleep. The question of what now for once something full of promise, the opportunity finally afforded them after so many years. The fact that things are different now, as Paulecrain absently cards a hair through her hair, as Grinnaux smoothes a thumb over her bandaged knuckles. They both watch the steady rise and fall of her chest, the assurance of it all, and inherently know.
Besides, they’ve waited this long to return home. They can wait a little longer.)
It’s all the more different when she’s finally given permission to leave her bed at the chirurgeons’, finally able to return to her own room at the Annex. No longer bedridden, she’s quick to make plans to travel, just as she’d promised — but only after the celebration to be held at the Leveilleur’s in a few days time, finally able to be held now that their champion is well enough recovered to enjoy it.
But, until then —
The first few nights are almost bafflingly tender. There’s a certain sort of amusement in the sheer role reversal as they cross the threshold into her room, both a continuation of what was and the mark of something irrefutably new. She seems to notice as much, too, wringing her hands and fretting like there was anything to fret over, like it wasn’t nice — like they weren’t content tangled up together in bed, finally able to while away the time and talk. (Her bed is bigger than anything the chirurgeons had offered her, thank the Fury. Not that they were doing much else in it, considering her recovery, the mutual decision to not push, that first hurdle in the aftermath more daunting than any of them expect.)
The celebration itself is a return to form, at least.
Perhaps they all just needed a little drink to take the edge off. Perhaps habit was still habit in the end, Grinnaux thinks, as he locks the door to the first spare room they manage to find, as Paulecrain has her pressed up against it a moment afterwards. Some part of him reminds that they really should treat her gently, considering; that they should be quick, shouldn’t even be doing this at all, because to slip away during an Ishgardian affair is a far different task than whisking away the Warrior of Light at her own party, but —
(Like she wasn’t the one to tug on their sleeves with insistence; the unabashed hunger, the soft please —
The louder please, now, as Grinnaux tangles a fist in her hair and yanks.)
There’s enough clutter in the room to make it work — like they wouldn’t have made it work regardless, having done more with less before; a spare desk that they spread her over, frenzied, rucking up her skirts because yes, of course, they won’t get cum on her dress —
(She really should be more used to this, he thinks; it isn’t as if being the center of attention is new for her. He greedily licks the whine from her mouth when Paulecrain takes her first; cradles her jaw in one hand and coos in her face as she fumbles with the clasp of his pants, seemingly already dizzy with promise before she even takes him in hand, before he even pushes past her lips —)
It’s another memory unearthed, after. Altered, though, as they fuss over her in the aftermath, stepping in to smooth her hair, helping to readjust her skirts, keeping her steady all the while as she wobbles on her feet.
(She seems to realize it, too, seemingly disarmed by the memory, a moment of pause as she blinks up at them both. Grinnaux just kisses her again, an answer to a question she should really know by now.)
“Shall we escort you back?”
Paulecrain offers his hand to her, just like the first time.
This time, with a smile, she takes it.
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— guard dog 11 ⟢
pairing: thoma x assassin!reader
summary: setting foot in your home village after years of running away is as daunting as it sounds. good thing you have a trusty chief retainer by your side.
word count: 4.8k words
notable characters: thoma
tags: found family, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut
warnings: intimacy issues, allusions to past trauma
header art cr: kanishiima on twt
masterlist
The first thing your mind registered was the sound of an engine whirring.
You wrenched your eyes open, squinting at the harsh sunlight as you wrangled in your disoriented mind. But when you realized your head was resting against a warm, firm surface that suspiciously felt like someone’s shoulder, you jolted away—bumping your head on the low ceiling in the process.
“Ow…”
“Good morning to you, too.”
A frown etched itself on your face when you found Thoma seated behind the wheel—green eyes glued straight ahead. When you followed his line of sight, an endless ocean was spread out before the two of you, stretching farther than the eye could see. It’s only then that you realized you were on a waverider.
“How long was I out?” you sighed, scooting away from him as far as you could. Gods. You fell asleep on his shoulder?
“About thirty minutes,” Thoma responded before tinkering with the switches and buttons that controlled the boat. Even when he took his hands off the ship’s wheel, the waverider remained in motion. “Which is way too little, if you ask me.You can nap some more if you’re tired. Yashiori’s still two hours away.”
You shook your head. “I’m…good. I’m surprised you know your way around the sea.”
“I actually don’t, but I’ll take the compliment.”
“What?” You scowled. “How’d you know we’re two hours away then?”
He flashed you a questionable smile. “Gut feeling.”
You weren’t very keen with the idea of boarding a faux-sailor’s ship, but it wasn’t like you had many cards on your deck right now. Besides, the journey at sea would prove to be the much faster route. It took you three days to get to the capital on foot all those years ago, and from how dire the situation was, you didn’t exactly have that much time to squander either.
“Here.”
Shooting Thoma a bewildered look, your eyes flickered from his face to the neatly wrapped onigiri in his hand—one he was openly offering to you.
“When did you even sneak the time to make that?” you asked. “Everyone was either sick or injured when Sayu and I got back to the estate.”
“These are yesterday’s leftovers,” Thoma explained, depositing the rice ball on your lap before procuring another from a rucksack at his side. “It’s a good thing we stocked up the pantry recently. We have enough rations to keep everyone well-fed for a few days.”
“A few days?” you echoed.
The chief retainer let out a brisk sigh as he munched on his onigiri. “Lord Ayato likes to plan for the worst in any given scenario. He expected that finding a cure won’t be as easy as we hoped. That’s why he’s locking everyone in even if it’ll take us a week to come back.”
Well… That was true. You’d commented on Ayato’s undisputed foresight yourself. Though you’ve only met the person beyond his mask of distrust last night, everything he’d done so far ultimately changed the way you saw him entirely. Ayato was the one who sought you out in Chinju Forest, the one who convinced Sayu to track down Itsuki, and the one who ruthlessly negotiated your fate with Kujou Sara herself. He managed all those things on top of the threat of a biological hazard that’s infesting the estate right this second.
Ayato was someone tactical enough to have planned this far, and someone who shared his sister’s empathy towards others. It’s no wonder he was hailed as the Yashiro Commissioner.
When you finally finished your rice ball, Thoma was back to manually steering the waverider. For someone you suspected was also afflicted by the Tatarigami, he was awfully relaxed.
“Are you okay?” you wondered.
Thoma hummed curiously, eyes darting your way. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Now don’t act all cool with me. You caught the Tatarigami too, didn’t you?”
“I was informed that those infected can survive for years after transmission,” he said. “Even if I was afflicted with the curse, I don’t think there’s any cause for panic.”
You frowned. “Did Ayato tell you?”
“He told all of us,” Thoma replied. “Why else would our people be so willing to lock themselves in for an indefinite amount of time?”
“But…” You bit your lip, staring out at the ocean. “I’m not sure if what I said to him was true.”
He cocked his head. “Why not?”
“I’m not a doctor , Thoma. I’m just…someone who observed from the sidelines,” you murmured. “I don’t want dozens of lives to be weighted against a claim I’m not a hundred percent sure about.”
You remembered how Ayato stared at you last night when you told him about the curse. The near-frantic look in his eyes when he considered the possibility of his family being exposed to such a thing. Yet he took your words at face value and trusted them without a shred of doubt.
You didn’t want that trust to amount to nothing in the end…
“Your word has more weight than anyone else’s though.”
When you glanced back at Thoma, the beginnings of a smile played on his lips. You asked, “What if I was lying? What if I’m still in cahoots with the Tenryou Commission and this was our plan all along?”
Your heart ached with each word, already against the mere idea of betraying the man before you again. Thoma’s hair seemed more golden in the daylight—eyes never leaving the boundless sea before him.
And when those green irises riveted back to you, your breath nearly hitched in your throat.
“No one who breaks down on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night because they’re torn up about their own loyalties can hold out for that long,” he chuckled. “Not even you, the so-called best mercenary in the Inazuman underground.”
Had he told you those words a few weeks prior, your first instinct would have been to spit out a biting retort of your own. How dare he assume things about your life so casually?
But… You were tired. Tired of having to put on a brave face. Tired of having to choke on your own pride.
Tired of running away from the good things people willingly gave to you.
Thoma didn’t even act surprised when you inched back closer to his side. You leaned your head against his shoulder—letting the tension in your body dissipate at the close proximity. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smiling.
“Wake me up before we arrive?”
His laughter reverberated low in his chest—a sound you found almost comforting amidst the screech of the waverider’s engine. You could feel him shift slightly beside you, and when you felt his lips against your hair, you were too exhausted to tell him off.
“I will.”
Yashiori Island was exactly as you remembered it.
The moment you and Thoma got off the waverider, the familiar gales of an ever-present storm greeted you at the shore. Orobashi’s skeleton protruded menacingly over the cliff he’d expired on and after all this time, the sight still didn’t fail to send a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t help but feel like those hollow eyes were watching you from afar as Thoma unloaded the supplies he’d stuffed into the trunk.
“You’re going to catch a cold out there.”
When you stared at him again, you’re surprised to see the chief retainer with a large bag strapped behind both his shoulders—holding an umbrella over both of your heads. “What are you—”
“Oh! Your sword’s here by the way.”
Thoma tilted his hip a little, and you saw that your unsheathed katana was dangling freely at his side. One wrong move and he might stab himself in the foot. You groaned as you took it from him, remembering that Ayato tossed the scabbard carelessly during last night’s altercation in Chinju Forest.
“Do I want to know why you look like a mother that’s way too ready for her son’s school trip?”
The blond hollered aloud, one eye dropping into a wink. “I’m the Kamisato housekeeper, remember?”
Unbelievable.
This was, by no means, your first time back on the island since you’d left it. Your freelance work often brought you from one strange place to another, and Yashiori wasn’t always out of the equation. But even if potential employers offered you double the amount the Tenryou Commission had promised for Ayaka’s murder, you’d never accept a job that required you to set foot in Higi Village.
Taking care of some rebels from Sangonomiya? Sure. Sabotaging operations at Jakotsu Mine? That’s right up your alley. But despite your entire repertoire, going back to your hometown was something completely unnegotiable for you.
Yet here you were, acting as Thoma’s pseudo-bodyguard because the bastard was carrying way too much stuff to help fight off the ronin and treasure hoarders crawling all over the island.
“It still doesn’t make sense to me how you managed to prepare for this so quickly,” you panted, running your fingers through your rain soaked hair before you shot him a disgruntled look. “Housekeeper or not, no sane person brings that much to a scavenger hunt.”
“You’ll be grateful for my foresight in due time, Miss Kira,” he chuckled from under the safety of his umbrella as he followed you up the hill. “Dying of hunger sounds much more troublesome than dying of blood loss.”
“When I get my hands on the cure, you’re the last one who’ll be given a dose.”
“Now you’re just being mean!”
The rest of the trek uphill was just as troublesome as it sounded. You eventually stopped seeking shelter from the rain underneath Thoma’s umbrella—trading the momentary solace for keeping your eyes peeled for any assholes who wanted to ambush you out of nowhere.
Although, when the two of you ran into a kairagi, you knew you were at a bit of a disadvantage this time. He loomed over you menacingly—tongues of fire imbuing his sword even under the curtain of rain. You grit your teeth, wondering if you could best him if you were agile enough. The kairagi was of a much larger stature than yourself. Surely someone built like that wasn’t fast enough to—
He lunged at you like a hurtling meteor before you could even finish the thought.
You couldn’t move. It’s like your feet were rooted to the spot even in the face of imminent death. The samurai’s fiery katana blazed as he raised it above his head, and you wondered if this was truly the end of the road for you.
“Hey! Snap out of it!”
You’d only realized your eyes were screwed shut when you opened them again—only to see Thoma intercepting the kairagi’s sword with his own polearm. Suddenly, you couldn’t feel the cold rain beating against your skin anymore. All that’s left was the warmth of the translucent shield emanating from the man that just saved your life.
Wait a minute. How’d he cast a damn shield?
Thoma cried out as he shoved the samurai away—the shield, which you now realized was made of pure Pyro energy, pulsated with his every move. He didn’t dare wait for your opponent to recover. Thoma grabbed your wrist before sprinting away, and you noticed he’d left his umbrella behind in haste, too.
“I was just kidding when I told you to guard me with your life,” he sighed, keeping his eyes straight ahead.
Behind him, you watched as the protective barrier flickered around his person before seemingly evaporating in the rain. But even though the Pyro shield had gone, you could still feel the warmth of his fingertips on your wet skin.
It felt…nice.
You didn’t know how long you’ve been running, but by the time yours and Thoma’s sprints came to a halt, you could see the serpent’s head even more clearly.
Orobashi’s skull was startlingly close now—so close that you could see the inside of its mouth. Patches of undergrowth and moss have begun to sprout in the cavern, and you pondered about the years you’ve been gone for them to propagate this wildly.
“Huh. So a single Orobashi tooth is bigger than an entire person.”
Thoma marveled at the scenery with caution still—his grip on his spear unwavering even if he’d long let go of your wrist. To your disappointment, he promptly met your gaze when he noticed you staring.
“You lived here for at least…what, fifteen years?” he estimated. “How’d you manage? Just standing here is giving me the creeps.”
You laughed, eyes darting to your feet as you shuffled awkwardly under the rain. “I left, didn’t I?”
“Right. And you’re back to the place where it all began.”
Thoma sighed wistfully, and you jumped a little when you felt him reach for your hand. You didn’t protest against the gesture, but you couldn’t help the wealth of endearment that filled you once he squeezed it softly, reassuringly. In the distance, you could see the abandoned archon statue—one of Higi Village’s only landmarks. You thought you’d be filled with dread with each step closer you made but…
The feel of Thoma’s fingers interlaced with yours managed to quell your fears. Even just a little.
“Come on,” he said, tugging you along with that bright, bright smile. “We’ve got some scavenging to do.”
You managed a laugh, even if the rain was dampening your mood. Even as you held a bloodstained sword in the hand that wasn’t holding his.
For the first time in years, the sun was shining on Yashiori Island.
After chasing all the ronin and kairagi out of the village together, you and Thoma practically stumbled into Doctor Naoko’s old house when you finally made it. But even if your first thought was to crawl to the spare room and pass out for the rest of the day, nostalgia struck you like an impending tidal wave.
The air inside was stale—like time stood completely still. If you looked hard enough, you could still see the bloodstains you were sure you’d scrubbed away on the floorboards before you left. Dust covered every bit of furniture that was yet to be sacked by trespassers, looking so old and worn, you feared one wrong step would make them all crumble before your eyes.
Thoma unlatched his bag of supplies, laying it on the floor as the two of you dripped rain water all over. “Nice place you have here.”
“Thanks,” you responded gruffly, laying your katana on the dinner table as you looked around your semi-childhood home. Despite the obvious signs of being ransacked over the years—the doctor’s first-aid kit was gone, so were the medical supplies he’d stockpiled in the back—it still looked relatively liveable.
But even if you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand (A.K.A. finding any clues pertaining to a cure), you couldn’t help it. Every step you took, every corner you checked—each turn made your mind flash back to the brief time you’d spent living here. Two months wasn’t a lot, but living with Doctor Naoko had been one of the few moments in your life that you actually treasured.
And now he’s gone. Because he’d been too busy using his experimental cure on you, when he should’ve been curing himself. No one was going to mourn the death of an orphan from Yashiori. But Doctor Naoko obviously didn’t harbor the same sentiments.
You’re only roused from your bitter reminiscing when you felt something warm being draped across your shoulders.
“I found some towels in the room over there,” Thoma informed you as he took off his headband and dried his hair. “Who knows how long they’ve been gathering dust, but… It’s better than getting sick from the cold.”
You chuckled, moving to pat down your soaked clothes regardless. “You know you can get sick from dust exposure too, right?”
“I’m already cursed with the Tatarigami. What’s the worst that could happen?”
The rest of your day went a little more smoothly after that. It just so happened that Thoma discovered the water was still running through the pipes, and you figured it was because of the rain that the nearby reservoir would be filled to the brim. As he prepared lunch by the fireplace, you decided to take a quick shower.
Of course, the bath was overrun by muck and insects that have accumulated over the years. You wrinkled your nose the entire time as you attempted to splash water all over the dirty surfaces. You also weren’t afforded the leisure of the Kamisato estate’s fragrant shampoos and herbal soap either so the best you could do was to wash off the grime on your body without much scrubbing. But this wasn’t the worst of living conditions you’ve been forced to deal with, so you managed in the end.
However, another pressing issue presented itself in the fact that your clothes were yet to dry. This homecoming trip had come up last-minute so you hadn’t exactly gotten to pack a few extras with you. Going naked was out of your options, too. You’d rather get struck by lightning first before you pranced around Thoma like that.
In that regard though, it only meant you’d underestimated the chief retainer’s ability to plan ahead yet again.
Your mouth hung agape when you found Thoma tending to a pot of boiling water at the fireplace. His uniform was splayed neatly across a nearby rack together with his Vision, and you observed that he’d changed into the same black kimono he often wears to bed. When he noticed you emerging from the bath, the chief retainer grinned.
“You’re looking a bit uncomfortable, aren’t you, Miss Kira?” he spoke patronizingly.
Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, you simply put your hand out. “Alright, Mister Plans-a-Lot, give me my clothes.”
“Your clothes?”
For a moment, you’re convinced that the puzzled look on his face was nothing but an act. But as the awkward air spread around you thicker, you began to consider that maybe Thoma wasn’t an all-knowing, all-planning overlord like Ayato after all.
“God, how did I do laundry in this place again?” you grumbled, plopping yourself on one of the intact wooden chairs before dragging it closer to the fire.
Thoma let out a laugh that only served to annoy you. “Okay, I didn’t pack any of your clothes because that would mean I’d have to take stuff out of your locker. Though you left us a few days ago, I’m still against invasion of privacy.”
“Aren’t you already invading my privacy whenever you leave those trinkets inside, though?” you pointed out.
“ …Anyways, so I have a spare kimono in the bag.”
A few minutes of back-and-forth negotiation later, Thoma managed to convince you to change into his clothes in the spare room.
Your face was practically burning the entire time as you stripped yourself off your wet clothes. The idea of wearing someone else’s kimono mortified you. If this was a normal thing to do for the people in Narukami, you didn’t want any part of it after this entire ordeal.
But as you pushed your arms through the large sleeves of Thoma’s nightwear, the smooth glide of fabric against your skin was surprisingly pleasant. As expected, his clothes smelled exactly like him, and you didn’t know what to think of it when you caught yourself lifting one of the lapels to your nose for a quick whiff.
Musk and aralia trees. You were sure you couldn’t forget his scent even if you wanted to.
Once you’d managed to put on his clothes, you stretched your arms somewhat awkwardly as the sleeves billowed lower than what you’re used to. You and Thoma weren’t exactly far apart in the height department, but he was still built bigger than you. It would make sense for his clothes to be a bit loose. When you tried walking around, the hem even dragged around the floorboards.
Well. Beggars can’t be choosers.
“So do you have any clue what we’re looking for exactly?”
The two of you were currently helping yourselves to the seagrass stew that Thoma brewed as you both settled in. Your clothes dried by the rack next to his. For a while, you contemplated an answer to his query as you took small sips of broth.
“Doctor Naoko used to keep a journal,” you said. “I haven’t seen what’s inside it, but… I’m sure he wrote down his notes there. He doesn’t use anything else to record his research findings.”
“Research findings?” Thoma repeated, and you couldn’t quite take him seriously when he had his hair down like that. The sight almost flustered you… He looked so different without that stupid headband. “So the cure was only in its trial stages?”
You shook your head. “Well, yes. But it worked. He put me on that medication for at least a month, and I continued taking it until I left and made it to the capital. I was already cured before I realized it.”
He nodded in understanding, dipping his spoon in and out of his bowl like he didn’t quite have the appetite for his own dish. “I see. Do you remember what it looks like at least?”
“The medicine he gave was a bit pinkish. Kind of tasted like salt water,” you described.
“Hmm… Pink and tastes like salt water. Now what ingredients do you throw in together to concoct a miracle potion like that?” Thoma sighed. “Do you remember where he put that journal in question?”
“I…”
Well, the short answer was no. You didn’t.
Even after you’ve given the doctor a proper burial, you couldn’t find the journal no matter how hard you looked. You left no cabinet unchecked, no piece of furniture unturned. In the end, you accepted that whatever he’d written in that notebook would remain a mystery until you caught up to him in the afterlife. That the only reminder of your time together would be the sword you’d used to slaughter countless innocents.
Huh. What would he think about the person you’d become now, you wondered…
“You know, for someone who’s been alone all this time, you sure cry a lot, Miss Kira.”
You blinked in surprise when Thoma reached out to wipe the tears off your face. His gentle hands were devoid of his gloves—calloused from all those years of manual labor. He cast you a kind smile, thumb tracing circles across the high of your cheekbone. The chief retainer was so close, you could make out flecks of gold swimming in the green of his eyes.
“How about we head to bed? It’s been a long day,” he murmured, still not pulling away.
Your brows knitted. “But isn't it like…just an hour past noon or something?”
“You can tell?” Thoma laughed softly, and you immediately felt something shift in the air between you—a tint of emotions that hadn’t been there before. “If it’s raining all day like this in Narukami Island, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was evening all the time.”
“You get used to it, I guess,” you replied, sniffling a little. “Are you tired?”
“Downright exhausted.”
With each word exchanged, you noticed that your faces have been drawing closer and closer together. Your heart was stuttering uncontrollably in your chest—unable to make sense of what was happening. The rain outside was loud enough to drown out the sound of your own pulse racing, but you couldn’t really do anything about how Thoma’s warm breath fanned your face. For some, archons damned reason, you’re awfully compelled to lean in and just close the distance for good.
You’ve…felt this way before. During the night of the fireworks show. When you saw how his lush, green eyes darted to your lips like he wanted to sample a taste.
The hand on your face moved to cup your jaw, tilting your chin up so that you couldn’t escape the endless emerald of his eyes. Your body felt hot all of a sudden—hitting a fever pitch you hadn’t even known existed. Thoma’s hair splayed around him like a golden halo, and you watched how the crackling fire behind him seemed to make the tresses glow.
You’re no idiot. You knew what he wanted.
But…you’re not used to being looked at with so much hunger, so much desire in someone else’s eyes. It made you feel small. Vulnerable. Nearly claustrophobic. And even if you wanted nothing but to finally leap over the edge of…whatever it was that’s been brewing between the two of you—
You couldn’t.
“I’m sorry.”
Thoma’s face didn’t betray any sort of emotion when you pulled away—putting down your bowl of cold stew as you got back to your feet. Your chest burned, throat closing up with another threat of tears. But you refused to fall apart in front of him again.
“S-Sleeping by the fireplace is more comfortable,” you stammered, forcing your voice not to break as you rushed to the spare room. “Just tell me if you need anything, okay? We can look for clues once you’re well-rested.”
You didn’t even wait for his answer before shutting the door—letting your back slide against the rotting wood. It took a lot of willpower not to curl yourself into a ball, but in return, your entire body trembled with agitation.
…You just rejected his advances.
What if he wanted nothing to do with you anymore?
What if he thought you were a freak for freezing up like that? Most of all…
How could Thoma want someone like you?
.
.
.
But then, you hear him calling your name—your real name—from the other side.
You hated how the sound of his voice was enough to melt away your fears. How easily you got up and opened the door for him even if your face was a total wreck. Thoma gazed at you with that same, unyielding concern characteristic of a retainer of the Kamisato clan, and your heart could no longer take it.
“I’m sorry for coming onto you like that,” he said, loudly, clearly—leaving no room for hesitation. “I shouldn’t have done that. And I know you probably won’t forgive me for it, but…”
No. Why was he asking for your forgiveness? You’re the one who panicked and ran away. You’re the fucking freak who couldn’t stomach the idea of being intimate with someone else—
“If we’re going to bed early, can you sleep where I can watch you?”
You stared at him with parted lips, like you didn’t quite know how to respond. Instead, you wiped your tears with the sleeves of his kimono, finding momentary comfort in the scent of him on the fabric.
“Why?” you asked, voice raspy.
Thoma’s eyes softened, and you didn’t miss how his arms moved at his sides for a moment before he forced them back in place. It’s as if he wanted to reach out and embrace you, but restrained himself for the sake of your comfort.
“The nightmares,” he replied. “I don’t want you to deal with them alone when I’m right here.”
You wanted to tell him he was being ridiculous. You’ve handled all the bad dreams on your own swimmingly. But something about the genuine concern lining his gaze, and the fact that the dynamic of your relationship had definitely shifted just now made you reconsider.
The next thing you knew, you’re pulling Thoma outside by the wrist.
There wasn’t anywhere comfortable to sleep on anymore. The beddings you’d left behind had long been stolen by some run-of-the-mill thief, probably. But that didn’t deter you as much as you thought it would.
Slowly, you sat beside one of the aged wooden walls, leaning against the vertical surface as Thoma followed suit. He watched every move you made, never initiating any of his own. And when you let yourself curl around his chest, he didn’t dare move an inch.
The fire crackled in the hearth far away, but the warmth of Thoma’s body was more than enough to salvage you from Yashiori’s unforgiving climate. You breathed in deep, drowning yourself in his scent until you couldn’t make sense of anything else.
“I can’t give you that. Not yet,” you murmured into his chest. “But I can give you this.”
Thoma let out a long sigh, and you felt his heart rate pick up the pace. You wondered what he looked like right now. Did he turn red like normal people do when they’re embarrassed? You were curious, but you didn’t have the heart to pull away from the lull of his warmth.
“Anything you’re willing to spare,” he murmured so quietly, you barely heard him, “is more than enough for me.”
Yashiori was a place devoid of pretense. No titles to uphold, no responsibilities to consider. You wished you could stay here forever—caged in the heat of his strong embrace, falling asleep to the rhythm of the rain.
Maybe the rest of the world could wait. Just a bit longer…
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