#i wonder if they avoided him because of his overbearing personality

[ontgerunway]

New game information revealed that Gojo can't handle spicy food. He is also a foodie and likes to go around to check new food items but nobody wants to go out with him. How come they say no to free food?!! I can understand being exhausted after a mission but what about other times? Gojo is loaded and if it were me, I'd have put up with his antics for delicious free food.

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) how you met yandere enha ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ the first time you've ever met enhypen ヾ

yandere!엔하이픈・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ wc ・ ‎n/a ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. hi again hhh i was wondering if you could do like a backstory for how yan!enha met oc? Absolutely love your yan fics btw! ^^

「 ୨୧ authors note 」

﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

at school , you were the new girl and he was the class president so you trusted him easily, letting him guide you around on your first day , he even offered you a seat at the table he was sitting at. you sat with him everyday growing closer, he could tell you were developing a crush on him and that's exactly what he wanted, all he needed was you to confess and that's when his plan could really be set in motion: he could make sure you don't ever belong to anyone else but him.

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

what was supposed to be a one night stand from a dating website turned into you having a section in his closet , you just showed up one day and never left and you couldn't figure out how that happened and why no one ever called , heeseung knew you were so in love with him you didn't even notice him slowly removing everyone out of your life leaving space in your heart and head only for him.

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

you were a new waitress at a restaurant he often had dinner to discuss business with clients. you were the waitress waiting on them; he thought you were perfect, especially when you politely declined the advances of his clients he knew you would look perfect on his arms , so he made sure to leave you a large tip along with his personal phone number , you gladly accepted it unaware of the danger you just stepped into.

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

you two were childhood friends; he'd been obsessed with you since the moment he saw you playing on the playground ; you being a kid never noticed it , it wasn't until you two were teenagers where you started to realize jake was really into you , a little more than you were into him , but he was your best friend and you knew you'd grew to love him like he did you — turns out he loved a bit too hard and before you figured that out it was to late.

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

you were the sister of someone he really hated you, at first he was doing only to piss them off , but then he actually started to fall for you , no more like grow unhealthy obsessed with you to the point even when his enemy found out about the secret affair and forced you to call it off it drove him mad, he was angry and we all know what happens when he's angry, what made him even angrier is he had to pretend to give a fuck when you came to him crying about it when in reality he with he backed over him a few times.

﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ

like jake you and sunoo were childhood friends ; but you fell for the boy first , and your relationship was actually good, he was one of the best people you ever known , of course he could be a bet overbearing and with did tell you he loved you 100 times a day and never got off of you when you slept together , he was just scared you'd leave him , you were you and he was no where like you , you had a reason to leave him , and he couldn't have that.

﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ

the quiet girl in school no one talked to , ni - ki saw while he was skipping class like usual , you were sitting alone in the library reading , you were perfect, he wanted you and he knew he had to have you , so he followed you around , making sure you knew what he wanted every time , you thought he was cute , you eventually let him sit down next to you in the library , sitting there toying with everything why you read quietly next to him , sometimes you'd have to hold his hand to keep him quiet , you were so unaware that the reason everyone avoided him was because of how scary and dangerous he was and everyone was too scared to warn you cause then they'd have to encounter the boy who never left your side.

[gay-dorito-dust]

The Lin Kuei trio + Raiden reacting to their usually nice, compassionate, and generally nurturing s/o suddenly looks at an enemy and goes "You have five f**king seconds before I rip open your stomach and turn your innards into a noose." And proceeds to do just that to frightening effect?

First time writing for Raiden, so hell probably be ooc and some shitty character writing to be made aware of 😂 🦦

Tomas Vrbada

Honestly didn’t see that coming.

He guessed that what he got for judging a book by it’s cover and Tomas learnt that rather fast upon seeing you destroy your opponent in frightening quick succession. So upon seeing your sweet tender smile afterwards whilst covered in blood was bone chilling to Tomas, knowing that someone so sweet, so kind, so caring and nurturing like you had the ability to switch up to a more vicious and violent version persona.

Tomas would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t find you covered in someone else’s blood extremely attractive. So you best mark him down as scared and horny because holy shit.

Like Raiden, he felt the need to protect you and keep you within range of him, but that’s mainly because he’s absolutely terrified of losing you like he lost his family. So he knew that he could come across as overbearing at time when it came to keeping you safe, but you knew that it all came from a good place, and that Tomas was trying so hard to avoid a repetition of in his past to happen to you; So upon learning that you didn’t in fact need his help in keeping you safe, he allows himself to relax a little and ease off of you in fear of being the next person you pummel.

To which he knew wouldn’t be the case but that pent up anger you displayed must’ve come from somewhere.

Tomas came to accept that the hands that he came to love and admire whilst melting within their warm, tender and nurturing hold as they cupped his face, also possessed the ability to mane and destroy just as easily as they could heal and mend his broken heart and patch up his open wounds from intensive missions.

Kuai Liang

Surprised but honestly wonders where it was that you had learnt to defend yourself and in that brutal fashion.

So while everyone else was taken aback when you inevitably unleash hellfire upon your opponents to frightening effect. Kuai Liang on the other hand was only feeling sorry for the poor bastard on the receiving end of your vicious blows, they looked like they fucking hurt that Kuai Liang was for certain on.

Upon first meeting you, Kuai Liang genuinely believed that you either had no prior experience in combat, or just held a distain towards all things violent and purposefully adhere it all together; Not that he was claiming that was a bad thing. It was just a rarity to come across someone like you. To the point where Kuai Liang would often worried that someday someone would sniff this out, before then proceeding to taking advantage and manipulate you into shady business under the pretences of doing good.

He didn’t want to tarnish your kind, caring and loving nature by bringing this up in fear that it would only make you think negatively, and or ashamed of yourself, which would never ever be his primary intention. Kuai Liang was too aware of the horrible people that blended within the shadows and lurked in dark alleyways, so therefore he didn’t want you getting involved in something that would alter you into a person that you would forever hate ever becoming.

Knowing now that you could fully protect yourself if the instance ever did arrive, Kuai Liang would only become more adamant in helping you incorporate moves of self defence into your arsenal, so you’ll always be ready for near enough anything if he wasn’t able to be with you.

Bi-Han

He is proud as all hell.

While your vulgar threat made his brows raise in slight surprise but mainly curiosity, having wondered where this side chaotic and violent of you had came from, but ultimately took a sickening form of satisfaction of seeing you back up your words by utterly decimating your enemy with doing what you forewarned was about to happen; He might as well looked like an utter mad man with how much attention he was giving, good lord.

He’s giving your fighting style an close and in-depth examination, taking notes on everything that you did good and everything that you could use some improvement upon with his help as though he was locked within a high intensity game of chess! Someone was getting brutally pulverised and yet Bi-Han could only watch on with genuine intrigue on articulating methods in to making you even more deadly in combat.

He’s seen a golden opportunity and he would be stupid to let it go now.

Raiden

Scared and horny 2.0

Poor baby is taken aback by your vicious side.

However he would still hold your hand as though they were made of porcelain as he takes a wet cloth and cleans away the blood and viscera from your knuckles to take care of your bruises that lied beneath from brutally beating down your enemy. You’re still the kind, caring and nurturing person he knows and loves, you just got some added qualities that’s all!

Even though your caring and nurturing nature often made you look weak and in constant need of defending in the eyes of others, Raiden didn’t see it the way that they did. While yes he felt this obligation to keep you out of harms way and keep you close, that’s just how Raiden is as a person to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves. And that was in no way shape or form meant to be taken as him disregarding your ability to protect yourself.

That wasn’t his intention and if you did believe that were the case. Then he would have no qualms in reminding you of how much he trusts you to protect yourself, even going so far as to sight this as a major example of that. Your fighting style may be consistent of the usage of deadly and lethal force but Raiden knew that you wouldn’t willingly use it against just anybody, only using it as a method of self defence first and foremost, unless further provoked into engaging in a full altercation.

Much like Tomas, Raiden probably also thought that you being covered in someone else’s blood was attractive in it’s own regard.

[crushpunky]

rafe cameron x girlfriend!reader thoughts !!!

met during the events of season three, and grew closer following ward’s death. y/n really inspired him to be a better person and see the best in himself.

at the beginning of their relationship, rafe was very hesitant to show any type of vulnerability or emotion, worried he would come off as “weak” or “overbearing” and scare y/n off. slowly but surely, y/n showed him that he doesn’t have to hide and can express himself however he needs to when he’s with her.

rafe’s love languages are definitely physical touch and gift giving… and he loves to shower y/n in both

y/n’s love languages are definitely quality time and words of affirmation. she loves spending time with rafe doing anything or nothing, as long as they’re together she’s fine with that.

y/n wasn’t nervous about introducing rafe to her family. she loved him so much and was well aware of his own familial issues, but she also knew her family would care for him as much as she did.

on the other hand, she was very nervous about introducing rafe to her cat, kit kat:

“why are you sweating so much? do you need some water?” rafe asked as they pulled into y/n’s driveway. “no, it’s fine. i’m fine.” y/n trailed off. “you’re acting weird, baby," rafe reached across the console, taking y/n’s hand. “i’ve already met your parents, and they’re wonderful people. i don’t—” “no i’m just nervous about you meeting kit kat.” y/n mumbled, avoiding the small smirk that crept on rafe’s lips. “the cat?” rafe stifled a laugh. “don’t laugh, cameron! this is very serious!” y/n groaned, running a hand through her hair nervously. “what if he doesn’t like you, then what?” “you’ll just have to get rid of it i guess.” rafe said with a shrug, causing y/n to gasp. “that is not funny, rafe. and don’t call him ‘it’.” y/n scowled.

while kit kat did in fact like rafe, rafe held some sort of one-sided beef with the small, fluffy gray cat. he was fine with cats, but what he didn’t appreciate was how the cat always stole y/n’s attention…

rafe picks her up every saturday at exactly 9 am (even though he despises getting up anytime before noon on the weekend) to get coffee and stop at her favorite flower shop. the look of “surprise” on her face when he gets her a bouquet always makes his heart melt. because of this, he always made sure the vase in y/n’s windowsill was always filled with fresh flowers.

when rafe made it to 100 days clean, y/n woke him up with a cake she had spent the whole night making and a new lingerie set she had seen him eyeing the last time the two of them went shopping on the mainland. he wasn’t used to this sort of celebration or attention on his accomplishments, but needless to say he was very happy with the surprise.

y/n pushed rafe to reconcile with his sisters, encouraging him to make an effort to apologize to them and tell them about how much he’s changed from this violent, drug addicted young man he used to be.

for christmas, y/n convinced rafe to wear matching sweaters with her to their friends’ christmas get together. never in his life would rafe cameron ever thought to find himself doing something as cheesy as that, but with y/n, it just felt natural. not even topper and kelce’s teasing could shake his commitment to seeing y/n smile at their identical sweaters:

“no fucking way.” topper scoffed. “what’s your problem, thornton?” rafe quirked an eyebrow, wrapping an arm around y/n’s torso. “dude you are so pussy-whipped.” kelce shook his head, taking a sip from his mug. “yeah, yeah, i love my girlfriend, what’s so fuckin wrong about that? hm?” rafe pulled y/n in to kiss the top of her head. “you should see kit kat’s sweater too.” y/n said, going to pull out her phone. “woah, woah, woah. you did not tell me we were matching with the cat—”

rafe was so head over heels for y/n it was crazy. he found himself thinking about her all the time, picturing a future for the two of them together. he had never thought about having a family before, after knowing how fucked up his own was, but with y/n he wanted that. he wanted everything, as long as it was with her.

[chaedomi]

Hi I just found your blog and you are so talented, your writing is so immersive you really have a gift, I was wondering if you could write for some yandere oshi no ko? Maybe with the mc being a very famous model, platonic or romantic is fine

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋 ✦ onk

fem!reader x aqua, ruby, kana, minami, frill, akane (yandere / separate), can be read as platonic or romantic, hints toward spoilers in manga (and anime for those who have reached a certain point), implied stalking, unhealthy relationships. ꨄ — masterlist

YOU WERE pretty and sensational. You had a diverse career that allowed you to explore different types of styling, keeping the job interesting. You were also a huge influence and an inspiration to many, encouraging them to pursue a career in modeling and to experience various brands of fashion and cosmetics.

However, what attracted people to you the most was not your career, but rather your unique personality and your unparalleled charisma. It was one-of-a-kind, something that would leave people aching for more… similar to a former starry-eyed idol. It's no surprise that you have a ton of admirers, and that includes the odd ones as well.

AQUAMARINE HOSHINO

Let's be real. Model or not, unless you were of use to him or acquainted with his sister, AQUAMARINE would see no necessary need to interact nor get to know you. Why should he care about someone who will eventually fall from stardom?

But, in this case, it was different. Very much so. It was as though time stopped for a split moment when you both passed each other in the school hallways. Faster than his mind could process, his hand was already reaching out to grasp your arm as if he were to let you go, you would disappear for an eternity. Unusual of him. After you overcame your brief surprise from the sudden contact, you offered him a polite smile, eyes twinkling with unspoken mischief… to which he gawked at like an idiot.

How was it possible for you to possess the same charm as 'she' did…? He’s so stunned and in disbelief that he’s incapable of constructing a coherent sentence for some time. No investigations were made to confirm his assumptions… he was THAT convinced. You best believe he made the effort to become associated with you. It wasn’t as though he was desperate to attach himself to you, you noticed, but somehow, he always found a way to be around you, and if on the correct setting, it was beyond unnerving. You shrugged your shoulders at his abnormal behavior, justifying it with a “you’ve handled worse.” By the time it is finally drilled through your thick skull that hey, ‘something is wrong,’ Aqua would have fully wedged himself into your life. Good luck trying to avoid him…

There is an annoying obstacle in the way… namely your career as a model. Not to mention, the large fanbase you have gained over the years. So much as it was very tempting to find shady methods to force you to void your career entirely, the problems that can arise afterward will be more than problematic.

As said, because you remind him of a certain individual, his extreme tendencies will begin to lay on you. Just because he cannot end your career does not mean he cannot become overbearing. The fear of seeing you injured or harmed in any way replays a very unpleasant memory in his head…

He constantly monitors what you do, and whom you choose to interact with, and makes decisions that seem appropriate for you. It's as though you’ve lost your right to free will…

He's aware of how wrong it is. But, to him, it feels like a second chance, to lift some of the burden that he has carried on his shoulders for a while, to rid of the guilt that was slowly destroying him mentally and emotionally. Well, at the very least, he didn't convince himself you were 'her'. Even though there were some strong resemblances in characteristics, it was still easy to nitpick many differences (to him).

RUBY HOSHINO

There's without a doubt, Aqua was only familiar with your existence due to RUBY. A walking and living example of a true stan and diehard fan; god, she was obsessed with you. Magazines, products, advertisements, brands, merch, anything that has your face plastered on it, she’s out to grab it all… what she can afford, by the way. Your hair! Your lips! Your EYES! How can someone be this attractive!? Forget Model… someone put you in a museum for you to be admired by millions, quick!

As you can tell, Ruby has quite an attachment to you. And this is her without the yandere tendencies included. It was terrifying and had the potential to creep out anyone unfortunate enough to listen to one of her passionate rants. Other than her fawning over you for your glorious visage, there was another reason as to why she acted the way she did. You were just like 'her', the way you spoke, the way you moved, everything was down to par. It filled her mind with memories of 'her' helping her cope through dark times, and you were too doing the same, distracting her from the negativity that threatened to cloud her mind. At some point… she fully believed that you were 'her' in another body. You just had to be! Explain the similarities! It took thorough reasoning for her to understand that the possibilities were low. You were around her age, so by the time 'she' passed away, it would have been too late for that to happen.

On the day of school, it came as a big shock to her seeing so many famous faces inside the premises. But the biggest one of them all was when you walked inside her classroom all smiles, apologizing to the teacher for your tardiness. Shit… was she actually inside a dream right now!? She pinched and twisted her skin for good measure. Nope! She was alive and conscious! There’s no room for argument, she most definitely did snap a couple of pictures from where she seated, behind you. Somehow, she mustered up the courage to converse with you after class, falling deeper into her admiration for you.

Unlike her brother who saw your career as a nuisance, she fully supports you to continue all the way! In addition to that, it's a massive stroke to the ego that she had the privilege to bask in your presence while the majority had limitations. Do you know how many people would kill just to breathe the same air as you, The Loveable Model?

Turns out, Ruby can make for a dangerous yandere. Once Ruby puts her mind into something, the results made afterward are so impressive that it’s scary… But, it’s not like she’ll ever need that to happen, as long as you vow to stay by her side, she’ll make no drastic attempts to prevent herself from losing something as she previously did.

KANA ARIMA

For KANA, at first, it was an in-between… Although it was not to the extent of Ruby, she was a fan of yours… you were just too entrancing! You’re the reason why she went through many style phases, buying useless shit she didn’t need, wearing expensive brand clothing that you featured in… you get the main idea. Sooner or later she had to stop as she noticed the money she made from her child career quickly diminishing the more she allowed herself to indulge in her fan side for you. Begrudgingly she put a halt to it, still buying your magazines every now and then.

The other half is completely sour when she sees how whipped Aqua is for you. (she totally doesn’t question if Aqua’s attachment to you was romantic or not…) She kind of gets it; your personality, your looks, and your status as a famous model, you were a ten. But, there was a difference between love and admiration, so you were some sort of rival to her.

Fear not, Kana gets past that, clinging onto you instead as she got to know you in person. It was bound to happen. Kana was already ‘under your charm’, so it was only a matter of time before that admiration morphed into an obsession. Kana can be very clingy and manipulative. Manipulative in the sense that she uses her sad-sob backstory to ground you by her side. The majority of her supporters are now her anti-fans, she doesn’t have her parents around, and now you, the idol she looks up to, want to leave her too!? You wouldn’t do that to your lovely supporter, right?

Kana wouldn’t care about your career too much, she understands what it’s like to really love your job, so she doesn’t complain a lot. As long as you treat her kindly and remember her, she is content. Please.

MINAMI KOTOBUKI

It's like, the calmer the individual is, the uglier their hidden side will be. And MINAMI will not be excluded from that logic. There is no doubt that Minami was affiliated with you due to her status as a pin-up model. On some weird, rare occasions, you would find yourself as her partner for a certain aesthetic for a photoshoot. So, yes… you knew each other to an extent.

What you couldn't wrap your head around was the fact you always felt a sense of unease around her. She out of all people. Why? She's an absolute sweetie, gentle and pure at heart. She always compliments you on how you look and praises you for the work you put in toward modeling. She goes on further to say she can see why people adore you so much.

There's nothing for you to worry about… except for the glaringly obvious issue that her eyes seem to follow whatever movement you make. It could be the twitch of a finger or any minority; glance to the side and there are pink doe eyes already staring holes into your face. Or when you're seated in the courtyard and just so happen to look at the corner nearby and see Minami there, who smoothly brushes it off with a friendly wave.

It was fine to you, till you began to see those pink doe eyes in the more uncanny places, namely restaurants you're in, or your job… you could swear you saw those pink eyes somewhere inside your house one time. But as you blinked, they vanished. As you take a peek at Minami who catches your gaze and laughs brightly, you can't help but wonder if it was just your imagination and you were overreacting…

FRILL SHIRANUI

Hmm… This one is a bit tricky. You see, FRILL doesn't tend to expose much of an expression or a reaction. You never know what's going through her head or how she feels about something till she bluntly puts it into words.

She's also affiliated with you because of your careers, (the magazines of hers and you are always trendy and are the most popular) so you weren't awkward or tense around her. It's just… Why is she looking at you like that? It's similar to Minami in the sense her eyes never leave you, but there is a layer of coldness in her gaze, in addition to the slight furrow of her eyebrows.

You thought she hated you. For what? You didn't know. It couldn't be career-wise, she had a great number of followers and need not be concerned about you overthrowing her. She didn't come across as the petty type either.

What did you choose to do about the matter? Simple. You approached her with a blinding smile, getting straight to the point. That day you got to witness a sight you'd never think you'd receive an opportunity to.

Embarrassment. She got embarrassed and the light blush that crept its way to her cheeks had you staring in astonishment. It was out of character for her, much more the difficulty she had to fumble out a proper sentence.

You just left for your next class as the bell rang because wow, that was unexpected. It was cute to watch, seeing Frill become so soft-spoken around you. Who knew that a high-ranked celeb like her looked up to and admired you too!?

You're so amused by her change of personality that you don't notice the icy glares she shoots toward people daring enough to take another step closer to you…

AKANE KUROKAWA

Another person who viewed you as a rival due to how whipped Aqua was for you. It didn’t matter whether Aqua’s attachment to you was platonic or romantic, the undivided attention Aqua gave you was something AKANE dreamed of having. So, when the chance arrived for her to develop a new character for the reality show she was featuring, she jumped at the opportunity to become what Aqua desired in a person. Spending hours studying your character, she aspired to impersonate you. Sadly, it didn’t work as well as she thought it would. Of course, she could never compare to you and your charisma. You were beautiful, very famous… there are just some things you cannot copy.

Initially, it was disappointment over Aqua’s lackluster reaction to her change, after all, she thought this a good way to pay him in return for what he did for her. Later, as she began to develop romantic feelings for him, the disappointment morphed into frustration. She felt like a loser all over again… No effort will make him adore her as she wants him to… So, she gave up.

Strangely enough, you managed to weasel your way into her heart in place of Aqua. She didn’t know what to make of it at first, frozen with a pale blush on her face when you praised her for her work. The way her heart thudded against her chest… she didn’t even react like that to the boy she so claimed to like. Perhaps he wasn’t the one she should waste her time on…

Even though Akane is considered one of the more ‘dangerous’ yanderes with her high intellect and analyzing skills, she’s pretty much harmless. In the nicest way I can say it, Akane is akin to a loyal devotee of some sort… As in whatever you desire, Akane will try her best to provide it, impersonation or not.

Akane is familiar with your works (god, BLESS the photographers for capturing your elegant essence in the most perfect angles), and is amazed, but she's not that into it??? Maybe if you were to branch out into her area of acting, the hype would be stronger… That doesn't mean you should stop in any way though! Continue to pose and look pretty while she appreciates (read as obsesses over) the sight. However, if your career were to ever… become an obstacle between you both, THAT will get her FULL attention.

BONUS: AI HOSHINO

In this scenario, let's pretend you were around the age when AI was still alive. Let's think about this. Suppose you had a terrible childhood without correct familial guidance, or experienced situations that resulted in you being unable to feel and express love properly.

Now, imagine you came across a person who made you feel the very emotions that you desperately sought out. Would you want to distance yourself from that person, especially when they granted you something you've been seeking for so long?

The answer is no, and that's exactly what Ai did. By far, the worst one out there. She isolates you, she breaks your bonds with other people, and when you try to voice your complaints about her actions, she has the audacity to play innocent, baffled by your accusations.

A master with her words too, you would point fingers at her, the bad guy, and somehow, the argument would end with you apologizing and her rubbing your back gently as a large smile spreads on her face.

Surprisingly, she was the one who encouraged you to pursue a career in the entertainment industry. You agreed, thinking she was being normal for a change, but then later found out it was for her to spend time with you without consequences… Who would complain about two famous celebs hanging out with each other!? Not that she had a problem maintaining a lie, she just wanted the easier route.

It was very shameful that you felt a sense of satisfaction over the announcement of her funeral. Too bothered by the things she did while she was alive to you, the news deserved a celebration instead.

You lived a few more years of your life in peace. However, the day both of her children arrived on your front doorstep, it made you realize that Ai had no intentions of leaving you alone, allowing her children to replace the role she owned in your life. Even in death she still found a way to trouble you…

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 7

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Whatcya got there, Donnie? It's just a smug grin in this week’s chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it, Menstruation, There WILL NOT be any Miscarriages

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Day 1:

In your fourth month of trying to get pregnant, you no longer fussed over the particulars. It had been a literal been there and done that of scenarios. You knew not to overreact. You knew that time would tell. You knew the slightest change in your schedule might not necessarily mean anything. You had settled into hoping for the best, expecting the worst, and acknowledging that the middle state of neutrality was the most likely scenario.

When you were a day late for your period, you hadn’t thought much of it because it had been the second time since your baby making journey began.  

Your period had never been something of clockwork. It moved within parameters that you had never been quite able to capture. Throughout your life, its start date had roved. Stress had once skipped it completely and when you were perfectly healthy, and not sexually active, it had once been a week late for seemingly no reason other than to scare you with falsities. When discussing a child with your partner, your medical history obviously came up. You shared all these moments and more with Donnie which he took into careful consideration.

It had been decided before you even began that, while testing for pregnancy could be done from the first day of your first missed period, you would only test on the sixth day.

From all the data pulled that seemed like a reasonable though arbitrary date to avoid getting any hopes up. Since then, there had been up to a three day fluctuation. Your first period had come right on scheduled time, but the next came a day early and the third came three days late. Now, a day late for your fourth and with three failures notched in your failed conception belt, you wasted no time on wonder.

You had your Valentine’s trip to prepare for.

In the spirit of breaking your rigid schedule, you had both decided that a trip outside the city was due. You were going to break all usual monotony and do something kitschy for the sake of it. You had booked the most ostentatious bed and breakfast stay imaginable. While you at first teasingly fantasized about overbearing hosts and antiques, time had found you embarrassingly looking on those things for their growing charm. 

It made Donnie’s resolve all the stronger and you had caught him brushing up on local facts so as to one-up the tours you imagined the hosts were going to put on. You bet looking at him now he was scheming. He had the usual resting concentration painting his features as he perused something on his phone. He was clearly reading by the dart of his eyes and you thought you should be doing the same.

Though Donnie probably already had everything planned out, you thought you might be able to sneak something by him on the drive there. The route was meant to be scenic and you bet there were stops along the way that weren’t necessarily geo-tagged on the internet. It had you looking through blogs of the past where people once actively charted their travels. You reminisced through their words and made a list of places of interest, if they still existed.

Day 2:

Donnie had been staring hard at two ensembles he had laid out on the bed. One trended casual with joggers, a buttery smooth top, and a sporty cardigan while the other had finer, but stiffer fabrics that gave an upper-class feel. While the trip only had a single overnight stint, your mate had been flip-flopping on his luggage contents.

It was a stark contrast to your honeymoon where he’d finished his list nearly overnight. You weren’t sure if it was the shorter duration or the air of spontaneity, but Donnie had become hung up on the supposedly simple choice. Seeing as he’d been waffling on the two sets of clothing for almost an hour, you got up to see what the trouble was.

He didn’t address you and only continued to stare at the larger picture of both outfits.

You brushed his arm to see if he was up for larger touch, but his lack of movement said otherwise.

You settled for standing beside him. “What are we thinking?”

Donnie pointed out a finger that had been folded to his chin. “We will be stationary in the car for many hours.”

You hummed recognition.

“Comfort as such is priority, as was when we flew.”

“Definitely not as long as a flight to Italy.” You chuckled. “Though it was first class.” 

Donnie didn’t share the mirth. “However, we have a reservation at a vineyard that evening which calls for finer dress.”

“It doesn’t have to be that nice. It’s not like they’ll kick us out.”

“Valentine’s!” Donnie rounded on you with tepid scorn.

Your gaze shot away as there was no winning with him and these romantic holidays.

They were your husband’s favorite.

He had to do them justice in his mind.

“Changing in their lavatory is out of the question.” He ground out the sentence as if it was a law.

You chewed your lip to keep from commenting.

“Which to choose…?” He let the question he’d been pondering hang in the air.

You stood behind him for several moments before you pushed out a readied breath.

He addressed you with a slight turn and a wave of uncertainty that wondered if you could be of help.

You held no ill will. “We’re driving.”

He said nothing.

“Like actually driving your car. For the sake of the trip.”

He didn’t see the point.

“It gets stiff…” You broke away and touched the joggers. “Being in those seats. Driving for long hours. We’re going to take breaks. Do the whole road trip thing you’ve never got to do. Stop at tacky roadside shops and leave wrappers in the car and get cramped so we have to stretch at abandoned rest stops!”

Your heart swelled at all the silly antics.

You adored that even this, even now, was exciting just because Donatello was your partner.

You couldn’t wait to see how he’d react.

To everything he’d staunchly try to do by some unseen book to all the ways he’d subvert it because it was all new to him.

You were forever honored to be his partner.

“You know how we’ll stop at the first real gas station and get snacks?”

Donnie finally nodded. “Despite their inflated cost.”

He knew all about your tale of the variety and going through a white walled shop just to get blood moving in your legs.

He was fully on board even against the fallacies.

“Then this calls for something similar.” You patted his clothes before turning to him.

His interest was fully piqued.

“We go shopping!” You snapped and pointed at him. “Like we did for honeymoon clothes.”

His expression dropped some.

“I know! It kind of goes against the spontaneous bit and this should have been short enough that we shouldn’t need to go, but look at this.” You held out a hand to demonstrate his wardrobe. “Your wardrobe consists of what? Things for chilling at home, expensive fancy clothes that cover every inch of you, and now, buried somewhere, are clothes specifically for beaches! It’s like if we were going to California. You wouldn’t have those kinds of summer clothes because you don’t live there. You don’t have car riding clothes because you never used to leave the city. It’s time for new options!”

He poured over each of your words like syrup drizzling a stack of pancakes.

You got to watch in real time as the sweet logic permeated each layer.

Once saturated, he lifted a confirming gaze to you.

“How is your wardrobe…?” He tested the one variable left out.

“I’m good. You’re not dressing me up this time. No extravagant surprises, just sudden ones!”

“Shopping for me would be sudden…” He spoke with growing understanding.

“Nervous?”

He chuffed. “You’ll tap out long before I.”

“How so?”

He swept down his figure. “I custom order my clothes online and still alter them both for ease and for my sanity. Shopping for myself is an ordeal.”

“Size, quality, feel of the fabric…” You bet you knew all his complaints.

He lifted his head both haughty and confirming.

“Guess there’s only one way to find out…”

He gave a single nod and moved to gather the laid out clothes.

As he closed in from one of your sides to the other you watched him. “Are you nervous about all the changes?”

He slowed in folding a pair of slacks over his arm. “In a grand scale or these recent impromptu actions?”

“Both.” You thought for a moment. “All.”

“It is…” He breathed slowly.

You let him take his time in choosing his words.

“In a way… as much as I desire a child with you, I am equally and morbidly… thankful for the delay. I would have had no issue if you were to have gotten pregnant on our first try and I despise how downtrodden each delay makes you. However, I… have lived a solitary life. I have experienced change in all its forms. I have lived unsettled. Nomadic. I’ve not known peace. Then I knew… too much. I knew stagnation. I thought myself unable. I knew myself to be capable of everything. I am boundless and with form. A frustrating chasm without answers.”  

“Life,” You whispered, not feeling clever about your response.

He still agreed wholeheartedly. ”My desire for our child is unmoving, but a dastardly part of me relishes more time alone with you.”

“I think…” You leaned against the bed. “That’s all very normal. I think that when we started talking about this, I wondered if I wanted to disrupt our peace. Me and you. We’re so good, Don.”

He churred softly.

“And we’ll be good at this. You’ll be good at this and we’ll be bad at this. Like you said. We’ll mess up, but we’ll try and that’s what matters. I have no doubt that you’re going to do everything you can. That’s how you do everything.”

He watched you with palpable affection.

“Just tell me if you get overwhelmed. It’s okay to.” 

He nodded into a soft smile. 

“Unable to pick pants cause you’re oh so sweet!” You crooned and got up. “Tomorrow! We’ll find you something!”

He returned to putting the clothes up instead of outright agreeing.

“Or not! That’ll be fun too!”

“Together.” You heard him speak more for himself.

Day 3:

“Okay…” You tented your hands over your mouth and blew into them.

You were also blocking out Donnie’s smug air, but there was no way you were going to admit that.

No, it was early February and pretty cold outside which was marked by bits of frost clinging to corners. “Onto the fourth store.”

Donnie hovered close behind to devour your words.

“It’s fine!” You chirped out of your grip and plowed down the road with your husband in tow. “We just eliminated the like only three tall guys stores in the area, no biggie.”

You heard him probe you with a hum.

“With trash selection. Some of the ugliest patterns I’ve ever seen. The scratchiest fabric on clothes that are still somehow baggy on you even if they hit your leg length!”

Donnie was almost skipping.

“Your whole life!?” You turned on him suddenly.

He seemed ready and stopped just in time.

His wicked grin hadn’t diminished in the slightest.

He gave it a moment to air for your stage before he dipped his gaze to speak.

You hugged him before he could.

You felt him huff out of his gloat and hold you. “Yes, my dearest. Shopping for clothes has always been this difficult. Before I grew to my current uncommon height, there was the shell to accommodate for.”

You scrubbed into his nice sweaters and felt bad about all the times you ever teased him for his fine tastes. “Being rich helps.”

“Yes. I can request directly from a designer. They’ve long understood my needs and send clothes when they need a boost in revenue.”

“I didn’t think today would be easy…”

“I know…” He pet your back.

“I still thought we’d find at least one thing… This is disheartening.”

He dipped his beak down to the top of your head and rested it amongst your scent.

“What will our kid do…?”

Donnie didn’t stiffen, but you felt him stop.

“We don’t know if they’ll have a shell…” You reigned an arm in around him to look at your gloves. “Or how many fingers they'll have…? I start to think how they’ll feel about back to school shopping and then… are we doing that? Sending them to public school? Not doing that seems bad too… It all…”

“Issues every parent faces.”

You blinked up at Donnie.

“Common concerns. Endlessly worrying about one’s child.”

You gave him a sad smile.

He leaned further against your head to commiserate.

“We don’t know.”

“Until we do.” Donnie agreed.

“Take this as it comes. All of this.” You took a lingering warm breath from your mate’s body before turning out on the sidewalk.

This time he snagged your hand so when you moved away with purpose, he could be led along.

You were steadfast in heading towards whatever next shop caught your eye. It didn’t matter if it fit the bill, as long as it had men’s clothing, you were going to give it a try. That was the nature of what you were supposed to be doing anyway. You stormed past shops and buildings you eliminated and heard some calling from loitering youths who commented on Donnie’s height. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, but under your current circumstances it annoyed you so you turned and snarled at them.

It was you alone that had them flinching into silence.

They then started right back up with insults, but you felt as though you’d had your fill. You pulled Donnie around a corner and felt him shyly share his pride through his wedding band. It felt like a coy way in case you weren’t in the mood for that sort of praise. You responded by mentally grabbing his regard and tugging. It felt very much like what you were doing to him in the real world and he appreciated it all the more.

You made it down a few more streets before you finally glimpsed a pair of jeans in the window. You sort of whipped your mate in the process, but you backpedaled to review the shop. Instead of something vintage or something new, it seemed to be a curated collection. You were pretty sure these sorts of places were some type of specialty shop and only once you decided it was a contender did you look toward Donnie.

He held no hope and only looked up at the shop window once before returning his gaze to you.

You gave a furious nod before pulling him through the door where a bell chimed.

Standing as if waiting for this moment was a tall and proportionally gangly man who appraised you both with a lazy smile. “Welcome.”

“Hi…” You meant to part more of a greeting, but you were distracted as everything in the store was the same color scheme of woody monochromatics.

It dragged your eye in an odd way as even though everything matched in hue, there were dozens of items dotted about. You saw full collections of clothes to their matching accessories and onto daily items one might need. When you rounded back to the employee, you found your mate very obviously sizing up the man that was nearly his same height.

“I’d ask if you’d need help, but I think I know what you need.” The worker met Donnie’s eye with a growing grin.

You stayed in the shop long past when it was interesting for you. Apparently this man had been born and raised in New York until an aborted basketball career took him to England. There he set up the first of his specialty shops which catered to men of sizes outside the norm, such as himself. His only caveat was that he set up his collections based on whatever color he was currently interested in. He’d been successful enough that he’d returned stateside to open his second location where you currently were.

Baring how this place was some sort of strange answer to your prayers, you were left to linger amongst artifacts as Donnie tried to conscript this man into his fashion repertoire. It would probably be the only face you cared to recognize though the longer you hung out the more you wondered if you would need to bridge those gaps. You let Donnie handle a lot, but with a child there would be a growing need to share the load.

Donnie would happily share his contacts with you and you felt it was something you needed to actively pursue. You would be happy to rely on him after the horrific toll your body would eventually take with giving birth, but you didn’t want that to last forever. Just like the state of your ongoing career, you always wanted to keep a certain level of self reliance. You would ask for those designer’s numbers and make sure you could order clothes for your baby if you so needed to.

Staring hard at designer bags and wondering how many diapers they would fit, your mate eventually touched you through your bond before brushing your back. You came away with him and his tidy purchased parcel before bidding the man who worked there Farwell. Donnie loomed with one last press for the worker to consider his offer and he laughed as you both left with a chime on the door.

Day 4:

“Should I build a sports utility vehicle?” Donnie remarked suddenly from within the car.

From where you were still lost admiring his garage, you hadn’t really registered what he said. “Huh?”

He extracted himself and folded his arms on the roof. “I suppose a crossover may make more sense… This vehicle is equipped with four doors, but what if we make additional family outings? A sturdier vehicle may be justified.”

You followed along a wall of peg boards that had just about every tool imaginable. In contrast with said car itself, the garage had a less futuristic and more industrious feel. Ahead of you lie a row of metal cabinetry that you thought should have been a trademark red, but had been painted a signature purple. They led to a pair of classic roll-up doors that had acted as both entry for you and the vehicle. You turned and examined the final wall which was marked with heavy machinery. The encompassing space flanked a car lift that sat in the dead center to the garage so mechanic work could be done. “I’m not sure…”

Donnie made a similarly unsure noise before dipping back into the car for whatever he was doing.

He had told you.

You used to know.

You had yet to get over that you were here.

It seemed kismet. It was almost like the moment you decided to find out what little you still didn’t know about Donnie was when he told you he’d be running a maintenance check on the car. Where the vehicle was kept was one such mystery you had never found out so you jumped at the chance to do it with him. He was predictably happy to run an errand with you and only warned you about the part of town.

You figured it mattered little with him by your side and, in practice, that had been correct. His garage was one bay located in a sea of others that were painted with graffiti. There were dingy piles of trash scattered about and busted street lights seemed to indicate that the other tenants were strip shops.

It was none of your business and you turned a blind eye as the car had taken you cleanly to your destination. Everything was automated up until the bay doors had closed. After that, Donnie had taken over and gotten to work while giving you a pass to look around as you pleased.

You guessed the only thing this place seemed to be missing was a place to sit.

Doing another lap with your eyes, you had yet to locate a single chair. When you analyzed the peg board, you found a creeper hung up amongst everything else, but you didn’t really want to disrupt its place. You walked over to it regardless and frowned at its existence. You had a silly fleeting thought about using Donnie’s tools to weld some of the junk together into a chair, but you were disrupted by sounds of compression. Turning around, you watched as the car lift did its job and the car soared up to a manageable height for your husband to slip underneath it.

“Diagnostics clean. Oil change.” Donnie told you before he went to the metal cabinets to grab what you figured he’d need.

“Surprised there isn’t a toolbelt set of mech arms to do that for you.” You moved to look under the car for the sake of it.

“There is.” You heard his voice rove.

You stared up at what looked like the usual underside of a vehicle. “What?”

“It tunes itself.” He returned with a few items in his arms.

“Then why are you…?” You swiveled a finger toward his load.

He smiled softly at you before getting to work.

You checked the radius he seemed to set up and moved just outside of it to watch him. He continued to give that comfortable grin as he went through the motions of removing parts. You watched him switch tools and readied yourself in case he called for something, but he never did. Instead, he cranked through what appeared to be a second nature process until old oil was draining out into a pan. It was only then, as he leaned back to let the excess drip, that he finally addressed you.

“I like the process.”

“Easy work?” You ducked under a tire and let a hand rest against the rubber.

“Yes, but that’s not why.”

You waited for him to expand.

He took a breath and looked up into the car to decipher his thoughts. “The monotony can be therapeutic. While the garage is fully automated, I sometimes prefer to do it for the sake.”

It felt like it was too soon to ask if he was nervous again though you sort of got the feeling he was.

You decided to let him tell you if and when he was ready.

“With the big trip, does it help knowing you got your hands on it?”

He lit up a little at the thought. “I like that. Yes.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t get driving gloves.” You mimed taking a wheel.

He chuckled and returned to his task. “Maybe if you had interest in a convertible.”

“We’d need a whole other shopping montage for that.” You made sure to lay your joking tone on thick in case he did a sudden car modification.

It was a bit too cold for that sort of thing.

Maybe in a later season.

Like on summer vacations when you took trips across the country.

You’d see landmarks and Donnie would be the sort of dad who would do it all for the sake of education.

Something clicked into place and you returned to see said man in his current form wiping his hands on a towel.

“All done?”

He gave a genial nod as he passed to put his tools away.

You sort of registered him disposing of the oil and washing his hands.

You circled the car trying to envision what a family version of it would be like until it eventually lowered to take you home.

Day 5:

“We should have bought little toiletries! They have bottles of this stuff ready to buy!” You whined as the funnel you were using to fill little empty bottles with kept getting backed up.

“Not my formulation.” Donnie chirped and was doing the same right beside you.

“This is too slow…!” You drew out an annoying tone on purpose.

Your husband only chuckled.

You flopped against his arm and watched abysmally as liquid soap oozed into the container at a snail’s pace.

You could feel your mate’s contrasting levity even without your ring.

“Monotony thing?” You asked.

He shook his head obviously.

You let the few beats of your irritation peter you so you could see past it. “That we leave first thing in the morning?”

You sensed his smile before you saw it.

When you did you saw it wasn’t fully committed. “What?”

“I’m done.” Donnie removed himself from your side so fast you nearly fell over.

“Hey!” You jeered.

He capped his bottle off and returned its larger parent product back to its place in the bathroom.

“How’d you do that!?” You called after him.

You heard him pad away in a hurry.

“How did you cheat at filling!?” You couldn’t help but laugh.

You heard only the sound of him rummaging through your suitcase to put the container in with other toiletries. Your lips pursed and you bet he had some kind of mental algorithm that perfectly calculated flow speed. That was some sort of nerdy math that was so very him. Your bottle eventually finished filling and you played up a slog once you emerged with it from the bathroom.

You meant to put on a whole show as if the tiny thing was tremendously heavy, but your mate was clearly waiting. 

You saw he had a box in hand.

A box that made your spine go straight.

A box you had become all too familiar with.

Donnie placed the pregnancy tests into the suitcase with care.

You forgot all about your little bottle and tackled him.

Day 6:

Your alarm blared.

Groaning as it had jarred you from sleep, you slapped the side table. Your husband shifted beside you. You once had the perfect schedule planned. Last night when you were finishing up packing, you were on track to get a tidy eight hours and still leave before dawn for your Valentine’s road trip.

Only after seeing a certain box, you’d thrown out said timeline to instead fuck each other senseless.

Images of the prior night slid around your brain as you forced yourself to sit upright. Donnie blew out a preparatory air to move himself. You patted his shell and heard a mental recording of him from the prior night praising your fluids.

“You, drinks. Me, breakfast.” You told him and tried to parse out what it had been.

It was hot, whatever it was.

Donnie grunted an agreement and gave himself a few more seconds. Throwing your legs out from under the covers, your nude body shuddered against the early morning cold. You found your socks first and stuffed your feet into them. As your toes hit the floor with protection, you spied Donnie’s pants and flung them behind you for him to wear.

You shuffled away from the bed to reach any type of top that would fit you. Sadly you found yours first which meant you also still needed to find bottoms. Cold nipped your ass cheeks by the time you found some and you stuffed your legs into them with a hobble. Your mate surfaced and gave an appreciative chirp as he found his joggers.

You made a similar sound before heading toward the kitchen. Donnie would allow no window that let cold seep in, but something about the glass still seemed to hold winter against its pane. You studied it for signs of frost while you pulled out a bowl. There didn’t appear to be any ice crystals so you set out a pan on a burner to warm.

You gathered eggs.

You cracked them into the bowl.

Their consistency oozed.

That’s what Donnie had said last night.

He had said your discharge wasn’t as thick as it usually was when you were about to start your period.

You blinked wide awake.

Today was day six.

Your period was six days late.

Today was the arbitrary date that meant you could take a pregnancy test.

Though you had done it regardless just in case, this would be the first time it seemed like you might be pregnant.

The eggs felt prodigal.

You whisked them up and were zealous in cooking. Donnie appeared beside you not nearly as awake. For a long moment, he observed you making breakfast before his mind caught up with him to grind fresh beans to make coffee. You had full plates ready before his water had even boiled.

“Excited?” He spoke in a deep voice tinged with sleep.

“Very!” You pecked his cheek and headed for the couch.

You would test at the bed and breakfast.

Not before.

It would be an agonizing wait, but it would be worth it.

You could see yourself in an ostentatious bathroom sitting on a toilet with one of those fuzzy seat covers.

Donnie would be waiting with a timer.

It was February 13th.

You would have the most lavish Valentine’s.

One of Donnie’s favorite holidays now made all the better.

You scarfed your food down and forewent Donnie’s drink offer to instead get ready. You didn’t need the caffeine currently as you were high on your thoughts alone. You hadn’t set these sorts of expectations for your trip, but now it seemed like a given. There had been nothing, but signs. Every day you had been late had been in your favor.

How had you not noticed?

You were riding cloud nine as you washed up. The universe was paying you back for the last few months. You decided that had to be it as you eventually dressed. Donnie appeared behind you and you could hear him churr each time you passed him.

He liked to see you excited.

He loved seeing you happy.

You were going on a road trip together.

You packed the last few things in your shared suitcase and resisted zipping it up. It took quite a bit of focus to not eye the tests too much. You couldn’t close the luggage quite yet because Donnie still had a few things to put away.

“I’m gonna get my coat!” You told him and scurried toward the door.

If he responded, you didn’t hear.

You shoved your arms into your sleeves one at a time and then fiddled with your scarf.

“Almost.” Donnie told you in an apologetic tone.

He felt bad he was lagging behind. 

“It’s fine!” You could care less.

He believed you and you heard the distinct sound of rustling in your suitcase. That meant Donnie was almost done and you would soon leave. You would be out on the open road with your mate. You were going on a little vacation. You were going to have a blast. You had a list. You remembered how you had gathered those little known spots and rotated your body in search of your phone. 

The room spun.

“Oh…” Your voice warbled out and you widened your stance to stabilize.

“And….!” Donnie’s voice led with anticipation.

You blinked out of your lightheadedness.

That was odd.

You hadn’t fallen over, but you had been hit with a sudden wave of weakness.

It then disappeared like it was never there and you had your phone. 

That was strange.

It was almost as if you had momentarily lost blood.

“Done!” Donnie rounded the corner with a bright smile and the closed suitcase in tow.

You couldn’t help, but light up for him. “Let’s go!”

You turned to grab his coat. He came in with an ever present churr to him and you shook his outer layer out. He dipped down into you so you could help him put it on. It was through one arm and with an expert rotation of his body that he donned it then lifted you clean off the ground in one smooth action.You giggled in his arms and he went stiff. 

“Hm?” You tried to check with him, but he kept you hugged close to his body.

All of him came along as you were placed on your feet.

“Donnie?” You pressed his arm, but he wouldn’t release.

He had you in a bear hug.

“Donatello?” You patted his carapace heavily. “Is something wrong?”

He clung to you.

“Don?! Hey!”

His forehead dropped to your shoulder.

“Donatello!!”

His beak rooted down toward your chest.

“Please answer me!”

He shook one visceral time.

You went silent. 

His nails dragged against your coat.

You felt exactly how the fibers slipped under his nail beds until his arms were free from you.

He then stood.

Straight up and to his full height.

Where you saw abject fury on his features.

Your features drooped. “Don… nie…?”

His lip quivered with rage and he couldn’t meet your eye.

“Don…?” You whispered.

He sought the corners of the room before his jaw wound so tight you saw veins bulge.

It took a great effort before he managed to snarl out a single word.

“Overwhelmed.”

It came with spit and he took one robotic step to the right where he grabbed the door handle with a strength that decimated it. He snapped the knob clean off. His vision quaked at the broken entry and you watched it creak open for him from S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s doing. Donnie appraised the exit for one second before he yanked it wide open. There he took a lethal step forward. It was followed by another and another in a methodical process as he walked out of your apartment and down the hall with echoing footfalls.

“Overwhelmed…?” You mumbled to yourself.

That didn’t seem like the right reaction. 

He had been calmer this morning than he had been in awhile. 

Something must have set him off at the last second. 

You wondered what. 

Your trip?

You were running a bit late. 

Late. 

You remembered the fainting spell.

With dawning horror you looked over the still open door and left it to head to the bathroom.

You didn’t remember the steps.

You floated.

You were in the living room then you were on tile.

The moment you fiddled with your belt you felt it.

Every step after.

The button.

The zipper.

Fabric slid down your hips.

It was all givens.

You lowered your underwear and saw thick blotch of bright red messing the gusset.

You sat on the toilet and stared at the fabric strung up between your legs.

You didn’t care.

You didn’t care about the stain.

You kicked off your shoes so you could remove your pants.

You didn’t care about the timing.

You got the underwear off and waded them.

You didn’t care about the smell.

The all too common scent of menstrual blood was now perfuming the air.

You didn’t care about the lack of signs.

You threw the pair away.

You wiped.

The texture was exactly as thick as it should be.

You blotted until there was barely any red residue and sought a period product.

You went back over the last few days.

There had been no warning of your period.

That wasn’t so unusual.

It had happened in the past.

Not often, but it happened.

You gathered your pants and went to get fresh underwear.

Ones you didn’t care about losing.

You were about to go on a road trip after all.

You got yourself situated.

You put them on and then your pants.

You sat with your fly down on the edge of your bed.

Donnie.

He’d been furious.

It had been a long time since you’d seen him that upset.

It made sense.

You fell back.

Your womb felt angered.

You felt the first vestiges of cramps.

You were far too aware of the organs in your lower body.

You closed your eyes. 

It wasn’t like this was the first time you had both gotten your hopes up.

Right?

Something about the sentence snapped your eyes open.

You weren’t sure if Donnie had gotten his hopes up. 

You thought back.

You had been upset. 

He’d doted on you.

He’d said his piece about picking up slack for his partner.

He’d said he’d been thankful for the delay.

He’d been anxious. 

He’d mentioned the calm in monotony. 

The oil. 

The bottle filling. 

He’d never been overt.

He always relied on the science.

He had only ever spoken of the probability.

“Oh no…” 

While you had been putting the delay out of your mind, he was the slave to the schedule.

He was more attuned to your period than you.

First blood marked new cycles.

It stamped a failure to conceive. 

Everything hinged on those time frames.

He lived by them.

He moved in the monotony.

He allowed himself to celebrate early.

You folded your hands, one over the other, over your womb and held your ring.

You didn’t call for him.

He needed the space.

It was so much worse for him.

His lifetimes of anguish didn’t allow for hope.

Hope threatened his well being.

He had let a little creep in.

His anger probably wasn’t even with the blood.

Just as you weren’t mad about having started your period.

He was furious with himself.

For having given into that weakness.

Your heart ached for your mate and you pushed all the mysticism in your body to keep that from him.

He didn’t need to punish himself more.

Not now.

For now, you waited.

Your tech gauntlet buzzed a careful question.

You hoped nothing had happened and reached for your phone. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s call appeared as soon as you did. You talked quietly with your son. He wasn’t calling for an update; he was calling out of concern. You soothed him the best you could. His nervous words echoed in your ears long after you’d gotten off the phone. He also hadn’t seen his dad that upset in years. 

It was many hours later when Donnie returned.

You weren’t asleep, but he appeared before you between blinks. He only looked down at where your fly was still undone. He presumably took in the peak of your new underwear before looking up at you with a listless question even though he already knew the answer.

You gave a solitary nod.

His fingers came ice cold to your stomach as he did up your fly for you. For as chilly as his digits were, there was nothing, but tenderness in the way he did your belt. Once they were in place, he laid his hands flat against your stomach and held soothing over the space. 

“Have you ever taken a drive when you were upset?”

He only looked at you with that same dead-eyed gaze.

You returned with what felt like one of your own.

“I’ve flown.” He managed.

“Driving is different.”

He stared on.

“Drive.” You told him as you got up.

He made space for you and you were eventually packed in the car.

Getting out of the city was stop and go.

Then traffic sparsed out and it was open roads.

You didn’t stop for snacks.

You drove straight by the food stand you had marked off.

You never paused at a rest stop.

Without any detours, you made your reservation.

The wine paired expertly with the meal.

You thought you might not taste it, but you did.

It was divine.

You were full and soaked in a mild buzz as you headed toward the bed and breakfast.

Streetlights flashed one at a time across your face.

A warm glow to a multi-tiered exterior eventually greeted you.

You parked in silence as the cabin was soundproof. 

You liked the sound of your boots against the gravel drive.

An older couple greeted you warmly, but saw your worn out expressions. They gave you nothing, but privacy and a shorthand of what you needed to know about the house. Your room was exactly how you imagined.

You changed bloodied products.

You took pain medicine as an ache had settled into your lower back. Donnie boiled himself in a shower that was far too small for him. You were warming your hands by a live fire when he emerged. You heard him tuck into bed and you read through the last steps to care for the flames before joining him. Glowing embers did little to ward off the dark when you turned off the lights.

For a while you lay beside your mate until you turned into him.

He was on you in an instant.

Making himself as small as possible, he buried into your chest and let go.

You held him as he sobbed.

You held him long past when he ran out of tears.

You held him when the room had gone cold.

You held him until the first birds wriggled free of the cold.

You held him under the many blankets that shielded you both. 

“Let’s stop trying, trying,” you whispered to him.

Whether he agreed or not, his head bobbed as he pulled you that much closer.

You would figure out the logistics later. For now, it was Valentine’s day.

💜 NEXT 💜

I wonder how many times I've thanked @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[volterran-wine]

Three's a Crowd || Felix & Demetri

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 @xxx-wounded-angel-xxx : "Omg your requests are open!!! :D I am a huge fan of your Felix and Demetri (Felix is husband material and i love him so much) so i was wondering if i could get something about Felix ' romantic S/O and their platonic relationship with Demetri. I have a lot in common with Dem (anxious fashionable bibliophile) and i wanted to know how would Demetri's relationship with Felix ' mate would be. (Be my brother Demetri please)

Thank you! ❤️🦇"

Good evening dear, I am terribly sorry for getting to this request late—but I sincerely hope I have made up for the wait with this answer to your request. Demetri and Felix are my dear little duo, so I will always adore writing for them.

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

—  𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐈 & 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗

The thing with Demetri is that, while he avoids a mate of his own like the plague; he will wingman for Felix until he meets his final death. There is no other vampire (besides perhaps Caius) who wishes for Felix to have a mate more. There is no one more deserving in his eyes.

So, the initial stages of Felix finding his mate will be rather blissful. Both Demetri and Heidi will probably shed a venomous tear or two as they watch Felix with his potential mate. The tracker will claim it was a speck of dust later, or a cat hair from Elizabeth that caused the reaction.

That being said, Demetri will never just roll over and allow a potential mate to have Felix. He will demand to get to know them at the same time as Felix is, throwing in his own questions and inquiries while his best friend falls deeper in love with his mate.

“When and where were you born?” “Have you ever met The Romanians?” “What diet do you adhere to?” “Have you felt the mate pull before?” “Why are you interested in Felix?” “Why have you—” You all understand the picture.

Within my writing these two are already platonic mates, the two of them will stick together until death tears them apart regardless if either of them finds mates. If Demetri finds something wrong with them Felix will take the concerns seriously as long as they are valid.

Having the same or similar interests as Demetri will be a boon however, it will be a great way to get in the trackers good graces while Felix is planning the mate ceremony behind his best friends back. If the mate in question happens to be interested in Austen Demetri would most likely warm up even quicker.

While they bond Felix will stand back and count every blessing he has ever had, because he cannot quite fathom he has done enough in either of his life to deserve a best friend like Demetri and as lovely of a person as his mate is.

Once trust has been built, the mate in question will just have to accept that Demetri with all his quirks and flaws will be their close friend as well. The two of them is a package deal, and neither will part from the other.

Demetri will be an overbearing mother in law and the best brother in law at the same time.

[writingforatwistedworld]

For Vil: H, I, J, please! I’m very interested in the Housewarden’s mindset as a yandere

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, manipulation, imprisonment, murder, poison, unhealthy relationship

H, I, J

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Being put on a way too high pedestal

It’s not like Vil would do this on purpose

It’s actually the oppesite

He praises you constantly, telling you how perfect you are

It’s nice and all when your partner tells you that they love every single part about you but nothing comes close to the extent Vil does

For a normal person like you it is absolutely impossible to be what he envisions that you are

And when you tell him that this is too much he is going on and on how humble you are

Safe to say you will never be able to climb this mountian

Vils fans

Many of them understand that Vil is also just another human being who wants some love in his life

And then there are also like “DON’T TOUCH MY VI-VI!”

To be fair, Vil also dislikes those fans a lot but there isn’t much he can do

So he does try to keep your relationship private but there is only so much someone like him can do

If you didn’t have the same experience as the NRC cast (aka meeting your vessel Yuu, getting to know you through Yuu) it can be a bit hard to figure out at first glance that you are the Overseer

So even that isn’t necessary some sort of protection for you

Just avoid crowds and learn how to make yourself look like someone else entirely with make-up

Vils fretting over you

“OH MY GOODNESS IS THAT A PAPERCUT??!”-Vil Schoenheit, model with 5 million followers

To say that he is always worried would be an understatement

He just wants to make sure you are always taken care of, ok?

Well guess who isn’t so thrilled about that? Ding ding ding! Ten points for the right answer! You

I’m not talking about a few minutes of attentio. I’m talking about him coming back to Pomefiore and then it starts for the entire rest of the day

And it’s not like you can tell him that it’s too much

That would be just rude and we also don’t want to know what happen if you ever were to take that “privilege” away from him

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

A “normal” relationship

You know, getting registered on the paper, being able to go out with you, yada yada

Sadly he is not able to enjoy this at the moment since he has to shield you from the more problematic part of his following

Why the “ “?

Well because in that vision you are not really having any contact to anyone besides him

Unconscious manipulation is also a normal thing, the world is evil you know? Only he is on your side

Maybe if you ask nicely he will get you a goldfish or somethign like that. You know, to talk to

One where he isn’t interrupted

At the moment the young model still has to study and also take care of his more or less dormant career

So “sadly” to your joy he can’t be there all the time

If worst would come to worst he would step down from his job

He has so much money he could probably pay easily for everything Ruggies family needs for fifty years

Man just wants to spend every minute of his life with you

Whether you want it or not does not matter

One in which you love him enough for him to stop feeding you secretly potions

Have you ever wondered why you are still here with him even though he is so overbearing?

Well congrats! You just broke through the effects of one of Vils potions

He hates it, ok? He hates it to always tiptoe around you so he can put it in your drinks

Vil thinks he has no chance with you, perfection itself, so he sees no other way but to cheat a bit

So the next time you see him with a heartbroken look on his face you know what he just did

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Easily jealous

I would like to remind you that he has a background as an actor

This means you won’t even know that he is jealous… until it’s too late

The sight of others being around you, looking at you, being close to you, potentially taking his spot besides you

It makes his blood boil

If he didn’t have a reputation to uphold he would have fed all of them apples a long time ago, and those do not keep doctors away

If you look really close and are Rook you might see his muscles being a little more tense than usual so… Nah, no way you can spot this sign early enough

Bettering himself

Vils jealousy stems from a place of fear

What if you were to find someone better than him?

So he takes it out on himself… and a teeny tiny bit on you

He wakes up earlier, runs longer in the morning, sees something ugly in something totally normal

You know, the unhealthy stuff

With him raising his standards for himself he also raises his for you

Suddenly that papercut isn’t just a papercut (to which he already reacts way too much) but a stab wound in your side

He goes from mother hen to Bridezilla before a wedding… just in a caretaker sense

Snapping

If you don’t see the signs even then he will snap

Full on reenactment of Snow White

No need to worry why he gave you that apple. It’s good for your health!

Two seconds before catastrophe struck

So whilst you lay there, your vision going dark, you can still see his visage torn by a unnatural wide smile

If he can’t have you no one can

And if eternal sleep is the only solution to you never leaving him then so be it!

[are-you-still-writing-that]

Yandere Alphabet: Nicolas Brown

Guys! Guys! This was so self-indulgent you wouldn´t believe it. I just, I just love that dude!! I mean go and take a look at him. He just everything! I love him so much! But the show - It´s "Gangsta." btw - never got that much attention, and yet I adore it so much!!

Nicolas Brown

He is someone that was always heavily ostracized, barely seen as human, and most of the time, the way people treat him also reflects that. Sometimes, he sees himself only as a rabid dog on a leash, because nothing else could justify how others interact with him. Get ready for some angst, because this man is riddled with trauma, and will definitely bring it with him.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

One thing, he always manages to do, without fail, is to be close to you when you need him. It makes you wonder, if he just that attuned to you or that sensitive for when some ones mood is about to drop. You always hope, that it´s just the former, but know, that the latter probably already saved his life before. He can soothe your fears with ease. It doesn´t matter if he just standing a bit closer to you, his presence comforting you or if he gently touches your arm. Still, he gives you space when you need it. It what makes his presence never feel overbearing. His affection shows itself in the way, he pays attention to you. The way he tries to make you smile, and shoots one of his own crooked smiles back at you. His affection show itself in him being kind.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Even though Nicolas is on the smaller side, he is still able to draw an imposing figure. He also has a mean face, and he knows it. For him, it´s easy to chase people away. He know how to be intimidating, and he isn´t afraid to be as well. One thing, that will always be true, is that he will match the aggression level of the other person, if he won´t be worse than the other person. He won´t shy away from a little blood or a good fight. Sometimes he even enjoys it. He grew up as part of a mercenary group, he kills for a living nowadays. And quite frankly, it is Ergastulum. It´s almost expected in a place like this, from a guy like him.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

No matter what happens, he will not mock his darling. Not for their tears, not for their fear either. Though, he is a bit clueless, why they are so suddenly afraid of him. It happened before with other people, sure, but he never expected them to be like this. Especially, because they already knew him from before. But he can be patient. He is willing to simply wait it out. There a quiet a few difficulties communicating, but nothing that can´t be figured out. It´s not like topics like these came up in conversations between you two before. He tries to be as kind as possible, because he doesn´t want to scare you further. Especially because there is no need for that. Though, he will be annoyed, when he is attacked by you. And because of his gruff nature, annoyance may quickly look like rage.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He is awfully familiar with how it feels to be treated like something lesser. Because of that, he will try his best to avoid these actions, these mistakes in getting your affection. Though there are still some things, that he deems too important to get your counsel on. He will lock you up. He will hide you away. Because he is afraid. He knows what kind of people he interacts with. There is no way, that you would be safe. He is afraid that someone would kill you. He doesn´t mind being out with you. But the thought of you being alone out there, is absolutely terrifying for him. Because of that he will teach you how to fight. It doesn´t matter to him, if you want to learn or not. He will make you. Also expect to learn how to sign. Because while he still understands most of what you´re saying, and he can still talk. Well, he likes sign more, and quietly frankly, that´s enough reason for him to teach you.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

While he finds it incredibly difficult to open up to you, he still tries to. Sometimes, he has trouble expressing himself in a way, that you both will understand. He doesn´t know the words, and because he learned to sign so lately in life, it sometimes doesn´t feel quite right either. There will always be a language barrier between the two, even when both of you try their best to understand. In the end, he just wants to lean against you sometimes. Sitting close to you and holding your hand. Taking the same comfort in you, that you sometimes take from him.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

If he is to be honest, he is disappointed by your reaction, but also never expected anything different either. Though he does get annoyed by your continued aggression towards him. It´s not like you did that before, so he doesn´t understand why you´re fighting him on everything now. Over time he will get short and kind of snappy with you, because he just can´t stand it, that you seem to suddenly fight him over everything. He expects it at this point, yes, but is doesn´t mean that he becomes suddenly okay with it.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This could never be a game for him. He will break with the knowledge, that you try so hard to get away from him. It destroys him. He tries so hard to make it good for you, and to see it all so quickly disregarded, hurts him deeply. Even with all of his sharp edges, he tries to be soft with you. He breaks down before you, apologizing to you, over and over again. Please, never try something like this again.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Probably, the one time he couldn´t shield you from his reality. When he couldn´t hide you any more, from the bloody desperation he comes from. When he couldn´t keep you away from the truth any more, from his fate, that would haunt him till the end of the time. When it slipped his notice, when he was telling you about his weakest points in his life. About that time, where society had beaten it into him that he can never defend himself. The realization of it all, the recognition of his behaviour, hurts more than anything else.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He knows, that he already is living on borrowed time. His days are counted, and he doesn´t has much more in him. Add to that his constant abuse of Celebre, and he has a situation on his hands were the chances of his continued survival grow slimmer each day. One day the constant overdoses might actually kill him. He knows all of that. He knows. Because of that, maybe even in spite of it, he only wishes for a bit of peace with you. He greets every day, as if it might be his last, because for him, it very well might be.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

While he does get jealous, and that very easily on top of that, he doesn´t lash out. A lot. He has a bit of self-control, but him losing it in a jealous fit, might be dangerous to the people he loves. Because of that, he tends to internalize most of his emotions, only to let them run freely, when he actually gets into a fight. And when he fights it gets ugly quickly. Usually though, he will still shout something, that will make it clear, that the two of you belong together. Pulling them closer towards himself.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Nicolas around his darling is gentle and quiet. He is nonintrusive, and generally finds ways to organically introduce himself into your life. In the end, he never tries to insert himself in any aggressive way. It almost seems like you met him someday, and he became a really good friend over some time. Most of the time, it´s quite obvious, that Nicolas seems to enjoy your attention. Or rather, that he enjoys your company.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He is someone, that watches from a far. He acts like a shadow, that can´t be quite shaken off. Persistent and focused. Sometimes, you can see him in your peripheral but never directly. This can be quite unnerving. In the end it will be Worick, that has to introduce Nicolas to you. After that, Nicolas tends to flirt with you, though with his face you can never quite tell if he truly means it. Somewhere in the distance though, you´re sure you heard how Worick let out a little despaired filled sigh.

Mask: Are their true colours drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

He tends to be a lot more closed off in public. A permanent scowl etched onto his features. He is quick to become snappy and easier to bring to rage. At home, or rather around his few loved ones, he becomes quieter. He seems to loose his sharp edges, as he becomes softer. Gentle and kind. In general it´s very easy to see how the stress seems to leave him, as soon as he steps into a safe space. How his face relaxes and his posture slums. As soon as he comes home, he steps out of his constant defensive stance. The hard shell falls away to reveal a bleeding heart.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Nicolas isn´t really a fan on the whole punishing thing. While he tends to get a little snappy, when you annoyed him for long enough, he never outright does something to you. He becomes a bit shorter with you than usual. When he is angry at you, he tends to show you the cold shoulder, leaving the room, shorter answers than usual. The distance he keeps in that moment, is meant to keep you safe from him. He doesn´t want his temper to boil over at the wrong moment. He is very aware of the fact, that he could easily kill you and it wouldn´t even take any real effort for him. He will stay like this, till you apologize, but only for the very specific thing, that annoyed him. Only then he will be able to calm down again. Don´t worry, he will tell you what it was beforehand. He wants you to make it clear when something bothers you, and he will do the same.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

He confines them out of what he perceives as necessity. No matter, where he goes, he´s bound to have enemies. Not only does he put himself into a dangerous situation with his job, but he is also a twilight. There a far too many people out there, who would come after them alone for that. The moment, he started to associate with them, their life was in danger. You may not know these things, but he does.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Nicolas has the patience of a saint for this specific instance only. He can wait. Over time though, he will get anxious, because he knows, that his own time is running out. Still, he can´t bring himself to forcefully push things along with them. He enjoys how peaceful live can be, when he is with them. Just living for once. Not in a hurry.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No he will not move on. No matter what happens he is caught up on them. He would still search for them, not to be close again, just to see them. While what happened hurt him, he will still accept this very clear rejection for what it is. It´s not like he does have the time for falling in love again anyway. He would always still cling to them. Sooner rather than later you should expect a blond to knock at your door, that can´t stand to see his best friend moping around like this and a gun to your face, a threat spoken with a voice like silk and a charming grin to match. It never really was Nicolas one had to watch out for anyway. Not when it came to you.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

There is one thing you should know. Be aware that his health is declining. It´s getting worse every day. His body is slowly deteriorating. There is no way he isn´t aware of that as well. It also becomes clear that, he will always suffer for you as you do. All of this means, that he would let you go in a heartbeat if this was truly what you wanted, but can´t bring himself to regret grasping at what little joy he has in the world. At least just for a moment longer.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Just one look at his life will lay the blame firmly in his childhood. His father wasn´t great by any means, and it really didn´t help, that he was treated like property. Still is, in some circles. Nothing Nicolas has ever experienced taught him a healthy outlook on anything. Love has always hurt him, so isn´t that what it´s supposed to do? He wouldn´t know a good coping mechanism if it bit him. Another factor is, that Worick is shameless in enabling him.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He doesn´t feel comfortable seeing his love wearing themself out like this. Somewhere, he thinks he can almost recognize himself in them, and it scares him. He knows, that these fits are a sign of your mental health declining, and he is helpless in watching it happen. Because of that, he will rope Worick in to help. His friend managed to help him, surely he will be able to help them as well. He doesn´t know what to do any more, and he is afraid of what might happen next.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Something different about him is that he absolutely aware of his own mortality. He is also very careful around his darling, because he can´t see himself treating them badly in any capacity. Another thing is, that he waits to pursue then in an unhealthy way, till he gets the confirmation from someone, that it would be okay. Nicolas absolutely gets encouraged by Worick half of the time.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

He always wants what it best for them. No matter what. This is the only way out for you. Only if you keep playing from the angle how it would be so much better to apart from him, you can escape him, while he still lives. Another thing you should keep in mind is, that you will outlive him. Nicolas doesn´t has that much left, and he knows that the people he loves will outlive him.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

With Nicolas it will be an accident, when his darling gets hurt. He really isn´t a fan of hurting them at all. Even would prefer if it never happened at all. Still, sometimes accidents will happen regardless of what everybody wants. Maybe you got targeted because of him or he underestimated his own strength. Regardless, he will feel guilty about it.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He likes his love quite a lot, and is most of time content to just watch you from the shadows for a long time. He doesn´t need to hang all over you all of the time. Small conversations are fine with him. Meeting every now and then, as long as can still see you. All is fine. It has to be fine. In the end it´s Worick who gives him a push. To finally act upon what he is feeling all of the time. He is trying. Oh, he tries so much.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He is quite capable of pining forever. Nothing you do will make him snap. He can wait. He can be patient. He can, painfully awkward the whole time, dance around the subject with you. Sometimes, he is even so good at it, that you won´t realize that you spent hours with him, even though you just met on the street. He snaps, only when he sees, that even though he is willing to stay away from you, people still come for you. When he unknowingly puts you in danger. It also doesn´t help, that Worick, also none the wiser, is enabling him at every opportunity. Reassuring Nicolas, that he indeed „deserve nice things in your life! Stop being such a stuck up, and get ´em, tiger!“, and will hide a body, or several, when it comes to his best friend.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

People, especially his father, have tried to break Nicolas before. He would never inflict the same cruelties onto his darling. He wouldn´t even be able to do it. It would be too much for him. He strongly believes, that the ones he loves, should never have to experience the same pain, that he went through. He will always do his best, to shield them as good as he can. They should never have to bear the same scars. Not on their body. Not on their mind. Not on their soul. He will personally see to it, that it can never happen.

[vinnoa-articles]

Want

[Image by Eiichiro Oda]

Habit Substitute Drabble Series! This will be 7 out of the 8 drabbles I will be writing, because, why not? Some characters like certain things on a daily. But what if you were there?

Here are the links for the others.

[Luffy] [Zoro] [Usopp] [Sanji] [Law] [Smoker] [Crocodile]

Rating: Everyone

Word count: 2,124

Type: Fluff, some angst, flirting

Characters: Crocodile, reader (AFAB)

Trigger warnings/content: Some threatening words, pet names like "doll", swearing, mentioning of death/trauma about the marines

“Hm,” as he sits on his throne, looking down at those pure eyes. Kneeling before his steps, pledging her allegiance to him, her soul, her body, her loyalty, everything to him, it bored him to just watch everyone do the same thing, quietly fearing him, glancing over their shoulder to see if he was there, to take his orders without hesitation. “So…” ah…another one of these, thinking as he gently scratched the armrest with his hook. Same shit, different people, every.single.day. Slipping into the same routine, not wanting to go out of the habit of the ordinary, because what is the reason? There was none. Everything was boring, it was not fun, no point, it didn’t give him a challenge, no goal in sight, no reward at the end, not even gratification.

“Go help out the others, do what you want, just don’t cause issue fo’me  just get out of my sight.”

“Did you want me to pick up some cigars from the village?” Her voice smooth as sand, another futile attempt to kiss his ass, typical of new recruits.

“Do what you want,” avoiding even looking at her. She was merely another pawn within his empire, no one really notable in his mind. Other than his rivals, no one stuck out, it was the same people, interacting with him day in and day out, passing the days as if it was clockwork as days turn into nights, nights turn into weeks, weeks into months, with people coming and going, dying or being taken away. The gentle shuffle of her getting up, bowing as her outfit harmonized with the sound of sand kicking up.

“I see sir,” her voice velvety, soft, gentle like those calm nights. “I shall come back in a few hours to give you a report then.” Typical, just a worthless pawn that won’t be of use to him. Other than a pretty face that can maybe get some money from the village, there was no way she had any potential at Baroque Works. A yawn, and rolling his eyes as he waves his hand before leaning on that same hand, his jaw resting as he stares up at the hole in his ceiling. The blue sky overhead with no clouds in sight, it was bright out, a bird or two flew over, as free as ever. Resting his eyes would only pass by some time before maybe someone brings paperwork, maybe a civilian, treasure, who knows at this point. Rubbing his cheek, the finger running along his scar, breathing in and out, the taste of musk, dust and tobacco flow through his lungs. Slowly ensuring the steady flow of oxygen with the intoxicating taste of bitterness pulsing his veins. 

“Boring…” muttering under his breath, his words breathed out with the exhale of smoke. “Hm…what to do now…” his mind wondered what he could do, it’s been awhile since he had any action, both fighting and just touch. Sure, he could take anyone in the village, but many feared him. Though it turned him on to see people trembling in others arms, it was more so how they ran to their partner for comfort, wiping the tears with their fingers as they soothed their emotions by stroking their hair, and yet it wasn’t enough for him to pursue. If only they would melt in his arms, instead of fearing him, he wanted someone to run into his arms for comfort, inhaling in their scent, kissing the top of their head to show protection, knowing their place as they are useless and they have to rely on him. Yet, not one person ran to him for protection, rather, they always ran to him to warn him or tell him something, quickly running away in fear of his reaction, which was overbearing as he was a warlord, now serving under an emperor that he could easily overthrow.

“Sir?” Fluttering his eyes open, the new recruit was before him, her figure in a tight near black navy blue dress. Thin straps decorating her shoulders, doing nothing to hold up the tight dress that hugged her body, the subtle musk, floral perfume, lips dusted with dark red like wine, hair moving subtly as her head tilted up at him as she kneeled on both knees, those lips so sinful that maybe he didn’t see it earlier when she was bowed down earlier. “I got you a gift from the village,” holding a tan satchel, with a purple string tying the top together. “A gift for letting me join.” Humming, there was a lot of doubt this was a true gift to create a simple connection, instead to butter him up to get a higher status.

“Open it then,” his cigar falling from his lips as it dissipates as it hits the ground. Grabbing another cigar from his coat, a simple box adorned with gold as he places another cigar between his lips, lighting it. That addicting taste of tobacco that he craves every waking moment. The crown of her head moves, as she opens the box so seductively, her fingers gently tugging, pulling, her lips parting to softly gasp as the bag opens up. Grabbing a box, she sets the satchel down on the ground gently, opening it with a black lighter with some silver accents. Lighting up his cigar and holding the lighter palm up to offer it to him. Raising his eyebrow, she places it right on his knee, something so casual, yet different. Another item she pulls out, a simple fabric that she runs through her fingers, finally letting it stop on her palm, a silk pale yellow sash that she folds, paying attention to her fingers with every pinch she does with the silk. Standing up, she leans closely, but he doesn’t falter, staring at her face as she moves, steadily breathing to breathe in the familiar scent of his, but that hint of roses twinged his nose. Her arms wrapped around his neck, feeling the sash go around his neck as she tied it. There was a small mark on her upper arm that he definitely did not see earlier, she was trembling, typical of this fragile thing to fear him. He really thought she was different.

“I think it suits you,” her hand tying it and tucking it into his dress shirt, then moving some loose bangs behind his ear. Making sure he was uniform, yet he didn’t protest, no one dared to touch him without asking. Her smile was soft, but he was done with her kissing his ass.

“A'right, what do you want?” Grabbing her wrist with force as her nails trail his sideburns. Her eyebrows arched in question, it irked him that she was toying with him at this point. “If you fear me, then leave me, no need to do such trivial things.” A chuckle, a laugh, it was brighter than the sun above, it was more refreshing than water, his lips felt dry.

“Me? Fear you?” The trembling in her body was no more, he could feel her steady pulse through his palm. “I am smitten with you, it’s only normal for me to follow you with my heart instead of fear.” His grip softened, looking at that wound on her upper arm, it was fresh. His hand grasping her wrist, trailed up to touch it, it was wet, deep, warm, twitching under his touch, he could see fear flash in her eyes.

“Who?” Silence, her demeanor did a complete 180, her eyes darting around. “Tell me the true reason why you are here,” running his thumb over the wound, smearing the blood, but seeing if it pained her. She didn’t speak, getting up to put his hook under her chin, the sash fluttering to the floor, the lighter clattering and opening on the rocksand, tilting her head up. “Stand,” moving immediately to his calling, making her meet his cold eyes that even marines feared. “I said, who?”

“T-the marines sir. They killed my village.” “So you seek a criminal?” Scoffing, it was like a contract with the sandman, an evil that no one wanted, yet she seeked it. “You do know I can crush you easily, dispose of you where no one could ever find you.” Relaxing into his touch, she leaned forward, letting her body lean against his torso, her breath making his abs feel hot. 

“The marines killed with no purpose, they pillage for money-”

“As do I,” growling to see her weak explanation as to why.

“Sir…” her face didn’t move, her nose pressed against his abs, without realizing his hand wrapped around her shoulder to hold her in place. “Though you seem to have everything, it seems you do some things because you still don’t want to lose some companions. Marines still hire anyone, yet you pick out people you want by your side.” Her skin was soft on her shoulder, he wanted to dig his fingers into her shoulder to see her reaction, but part of it was stopping him. He didn’t want her to fear him, she wanted asylum, something many did not want before. “If the marines are corrupt enough to hire pirates to do their dirty work…” He could see her eyes open, her jaw gently resting on his body, her lips peeking into a smile as her lashes opened and closed to keep her tears from pouring out. “Pirates are just doing things to survive, yet you aren’t a savage, you have your reasons for keeping the people you have.” 

“Okay lil’ doll, but how do you know I won’t get rid of you like the marines did?”

“Because, you looked at me and let me in here. The marines…they didn’t even look at anyone when they were killed, they feared their leader and feared for their own survival.” Those words sent shivers down their spine. Was that how his underlings viewed him? It made him smile unexpectedly, turning quickly into a frown. Crocodile took a deep breath in, letting the cigar taste burn his throat, letting that taste linger as long as he could. “Plus, maybe we can shake things up a little sir.” Her doe eyes got him, hook line and sinker, literally. Only then did he realize, he was inhaling his cigar at this point, that it was almost a nub already.

“And how on earth would a little fragile doll like you do that?” Her finger curled, beckoning him to come closer. There was something odd, taking orders from someone else, but with her, it felt like first nature, instinct as you will. He leaned in, his face past hers, almost resting on those small shoulders of hers. Her voice is a soft whisper.

“Come closer, I don’t want anyone else to hear,” groaning, he could feel the heat radiation off her cheek onto his cold skin. A wet peck on his cheek, as she stole his nub of a cigar from his lips. Turning, she stole a quick kiss, that warm beckoning smile plastered on her face like a wanted poster. “Maybe I can give you a reason to keep me around, maybe a level head to make sure you aren’t bored like you were earlier.” As if she read him like a book, though this small woman could be easily crushed within his grasp, it felt like she knew him for years, reading his body language, his facial expressions, every groan, rolled eyes, shape of his eyebrows, twisting of his torso, to the angle his face, she knew what he felt. No fear in her heart for him, something that wouldn’t run away from his fingers, being finally careful he wouldn’t break this figure of glass. He stood upright, towering over her, looking at the hole in the ceiling with the sun tinting the sky pink.

“Al’right doll face,” turning his face away to avoid her sunny face. “I’ll work you like a dog.”

“Alright alright Sir, loud and clear,” giggling as she buried her face in his chest, her arms around his waist, hopping back to wave at him, then bowing as she left the room. Things wouldn’t be the same, just maybe he could get used to having something to do, just anticipating that woman’s next move was a mystery in itself, and he was ready to dive in head first, stepping out of bounds just to find out. “Well,” his hand went into his coat to grab his cigar box, only to pull it out and look at it, putting it back into his coat pocket. Glancing at the sash on the floor, hooking the sash with his gold hook, while picking up the black lighter, flickering it on. “Things just got interesting.”

[queenarahbo]

Vulnerable

Steven hated parties even if the person throwing the party was Wallace. Things don't go as planned and the two are left figuring things out. Sicktember Prompts filled Day 6: Dizziness Day 12: "You're not fine. You are throwing up." Day 14: Clean sheets/pajamas Day 28 ALT: "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Sir, are you sure you are alright?" Glacia asked for the third time, a hint of concern in her voice.

Steven's voice, still rough from the coughing fit, trembled slightly as he insisted, "I'm fine." He did his best to sound convincing, but even to him, it fell short.

"Are you still planning on attending Wallace's gala this evening with the rest of us?" Sidney asked, raising an eyebrow with skepticism evident in his voice.

"Why wouldn't I?" Steven replied his tone firm but tinged with resignation. "I have a responsibility as the champion. Besides, Wallace would drag me out of the office if I tried to miss it," he added, releasing a small, weary sigh. Steven knew from past experiences that Wallace wouldn't hesitate to come all the way to Ever Grande City to ensure his attendance so his showing up at the hotel was a guarantee.

"I'm certain he would understand if you weren't feeling well," Glacia attempted to reason with the determined champion.

"I'm feeling fine. My throat is a bit dry, but that's all," Steven said as he reached over to grab his suit jacket from the chair. He had left it there earlier during the day because it had been too warm in the hotel. What he said wasn't a lie. Despite his efforts to soothe his dry throat with water, it still felt terribly dry. Even though he didn't feel sick, he tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt and felt a slight ache in his stomach as pressure started to build. "Shall we go?" He was silent as the other members chatted on the way to the venue. Drake was the only other one who was quiet. He would occasionally comment on something or try to reign Sidney and Phoebe in before falling back into place next to Steven. He appreciated the silent company. The group was greeted at the door and shown to the hall, and Steven noted the layout of the venue as they walked. He made a mental note of the nearby hallway for a quick escape if needed and several smaller ballrooms for a quieter retreat. As they entered, Steven noticed more people than he had expected, and he saw members of the press floating around the room. It was unusual for Wallace to allow them entry. As they entered Sidney and Drake were immediately pulled away by Wattson and Norman. Glacia and Phoebe were being waved over by Winona. Steven's heart skipped a beat when he saw Wallace approaching through the crowd. He wondered what Wallace had planned.

“May I have this dance?”

The room was filled with chatter and activity as Steven found himself in a situation he wished to avoid. Wallace approached with an outstretched hand and a smug grin. He knew that Wallace could be overbearing but somehow he found himself surprised still. Hoping to politely decline, Steven darted his eyes around the crowded room, only to realize they were under the watchful gaze of onlookers. Reluctant to cause a scene, Steven suppressed his growing discomfort and forced a pleasant tone as he declined Wallace’s offer. He wasn’t in the mood for Wallace’s antics. "I am flattered by the offer; however, I must decline," Deep down, he longed to push Wallace away, but he didn't want to offend him, especially not while feeling unwell.

“Come now, Steven,” Wallace laughed “It’s a party. Lighten up a little.”

“Very well.” Steven took Wallace’s hand and allowed the other man to lead him to the floor. They fell into place rather easily as everyone continued to dance. Steven placed one hand around Wallace’s hip indicating that he was going to lead them and Wallace allowed it Wallace had started flirting not long after Steven had appointed him as gym leader. Granted before that they rarely saw each other. A party here and there that Steven was forced to attend for the league usually. At first, the advances had been subtle and only when they were alone, but Wallace had grown bolder as of late. Now he pulled stunts like this where he would publicly flirt with Steven. About a month back Wallace had let it slip that he was interested in Steven during an interview. He hadn't outright said he was with Steven, but people were able to draw the conclusion nonetheless. Steven had his suspicions that had been the intent. Somewhere along the lines though he had grown fonder of Wallace. He came to enjoy the flirting, secretly of course, and even made a comment here or there in return.

As Steven danced, he initially felt fine. His stomach seemed to settle, but a gnawing nausea still bubbled restlessly within him. The bright glimmering lights only served to exacerbate his pounding headache.

“Are you well, Steven?” Wallace questioned as they turned “You feel rather warm.”

"We are in the middle of dancing, surrounded by a crowd of people. Naturally, I feel warm," Steven replied with a hint of roughness in his voice. He despised lying to Wallace, but it was only a partial lie. He reassured himself that he would be okay. As they turned once more, the movement sharper this time, an unusual sensation cascaded over Steven's body.

“I’m not so sure about that. You’ve gone pale.” Wallace replied doubtfully as he tried to pull Steven off the floor, but the smaller man held his grip.

"Wallace," Steven warned firmly with a flick of his eyes. The pressure from the expectant onlookers, including their peers and the media, was palpable. "Let’s finish this dance." Despite Wallace's outward composure, Steven could sense his disapproval through the subtle flicker of his eyes. As the song neared its end, Steven felt a growing concern that he wouldn't make it through. The final turn pushed his stomach to its limit. He uttered a panicked "Excuse me" before breaking away from Wallace. With a swift but steady pace, he left the hall, shedding his facade when he was safely out of sight. Recalling the restroom's location, he rushed in that direction, desperately hoping to avoid anyone noticing his distress. Expressing silent gratitude that no one else was present, he sought refuge in the dimly lit restroom and rushed into the first stall. Collapsing to the ground, the first wave rose up his throat, leading to a fit of vomiting. The acidic liquid burned his throat, provoking coughs and subsequent retching. Though he couldn't get much out, his stomach continued to convulse. As he retched again, he thought he heard the door open and the lock click. Assuring himself that the unexpected visitor had no way of knowing it was him, he tried to find reassurance in the privacy of the stall. That he hadn't locked. It would be fine.

“Steven?”

Or not. The voice was quiet and worried, Steven realized “In here.” he managed before gagging again. Wallace was kneeling behind him in the next moment. He didn’t say anything as he took in Steven’s appearance. Steven felt a new wave of heat rush over him and he realized that things were about to get worse. His mouth filled with saliva and he hung his head over the toilet once more, sparing no time before his stomach convulsed violently and he emptied everything in his stomach.

"Oh, Steven," Wallace murmured in a sympathetic tone as he gently rubbed small circles between Steven’s shoulder blades. He winced as Steven struggled to catch his breath before succumbing to another bout of vomiting, gasping for air each time. "Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling unwell?" Wallace inquired, his suspicions confirmed by Steven's earlier unusual behavior.

Steven struggled to respond immediately, gasping for air as if he were choking. After finally managing to take a shaky breath, he replied, "I'm fine. Really."

Wallace laughed, though not out of amusement, and remarked “You’re not fine. You’re throwing up.” He watched as Steven began gagging again before bringing up a small mouthful of bile. “Seems like you have a stomach virus.” Wallace sighed as he pulled some tissue paper off of the roll and handed it to Steven, who still had yet to face him.

“I probably ate something bad. I’m fine.” Steven rasped, his voice barely above a whisper, as he wiped his mouth. He still felt terribly ill, but for the moment it seemed like his stomach was giving him a break.

“I hate to break it to you, but that was more than ‘ate something bad’ and you need to just admit it so I can help you,” Wallace said with a firm resolve.

“Maybe so, but I can make it through tonight and sleep it off tomorrow.” Steven, feeling unsteady on his feet, gathered himself, determined to push through the night and deal with the consequences in the morning. However, as he attempted to stand, another wave of nausea hit him, causing him to dry heave and cough up a bit of bile. "Wallace..." he murmured weakly, before succumbing to the dizziness and collapsing into Wallace's cool embrace.

"Come on, we need to get you out of here. I'll take you back to my place," Wallace said softly. "Wait here for me. I'll grab a few things and let the necessary people know that I'm leaving." His heart ached as Steven clutched his shirt and let out another whimper. He must be feeling really unwell to be so clingy. Gently, he pried Steven's fingers loose from his own and assured him, "I'll be back soon. You'll be okay." It took all his willpower not to press his lips to Steven's feverish forehead and hold him close. He couldn't bear to see Steven in pain.

Steven's body collapsed as Wallace stepped away, leaving him with no support, and he crumpled to the floor. He felt utterly helpless, curling up and hiding his face in his arms. Why hadn't he realized earlier that he was sick? Why had he been so obsessed with ensuring that tonight would be a success? He struggled to remember what he had been preoccupied with earlier in the day. He couldn't recall anything significant at work. He had only a few reports to go over for Devon, and the upcoming presentation for the business meeting with his father. No, nothing that could have consumed all his attention to the point of neglecting his health. Then, the conversation with Wallace earlier in the day flooded his mind. Wallace had expressed his anticipation for the gala and had urged Steven to be there. Could that have stolen Steven's focus? Maybe he had seemed distracted after their conversation. As the door opened again, Steven tensed, but his body relaxed when he recognized Wallace's voice.

"Alright, it's time to get you out of here. Up you go," Wallace said as he hoisted Steven up and held him securely around the waist. Steven's face turned pale as he let out a small whimper, and Wallace quickly positioned him over the toilet as he started to dry heave. "Oh darling..." Wallace gently rubbed small circles on Steven's back with his free hand, offering comfort until Steven's heaving subsided.

“Can we just get out of here?”

Wallace felt a genuine sense of concern as he noticed the weakness and trembling in Steven's voice, which seemed to be getting weaker by the second. "Of course," he said, trying to reassure Steven as best as he could.

As Steven stood up, he straightened his rumpled clothes and then allowed Wallace to gently take his hand. Feeling a flush of heat spread across his face, he noticed Wallace's concerned expression as he placed a hand on Steven's forehead. It confirmed Steven's suspicion that he had a fever. Without saying anything, Wallace opened the door and quickly scanned the area before leading Steven outside. It was evident that he was trying to keep them away from the crowd. Once they were alone, Wallace started speaking softly, not about anything specific, but Steven could tell he was trying to keep him calm. Steven felt a wave of embarrassment as Wallace handed him a plastic bag and settled into the driver’s seat. With no resistance, Steven took it, curled up in the seat, and rested his head against his knees. As the car began to move, he quickly succumbed to the fever and drifted off to sleep.

The next thing he knew he was being lifted out of the car by Wallace and carried into the house.

“Sorry. You were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you.” Wallace explained sheepishly.

"I can walk," Steven protested weakly. Despite feeling utterly drained, he wanted to show Wallace that he still had some strength left. His effort would have likely been successful if his stomach hadn't chosen that precise moment to rebel against him as soon as Wallace set him down. Taking a deep breath, he hoped it would provide some relief.

“Are you feeling sick again?” Wallace asked anxiously.

"I think so," Steven admitted. No sooner had the words left his mouth than Wallace guided him through the house and into the bathroom. He felt a surge of gratitude when Wallace closed the door, granting him some much-needed privacy. Mortification washed over him as he recalled how Wallace had found him earlier. Steven loathed being sick, and the thought of others knowing about his condition made him uneasy but the thing he hated the most was throwing up in front of someone. As he retched again, all sense of embarrassment dissipated. The sensation of his skin prickling beneath his clothes made him want to tear the fabric off. He was shivering uncontrollably now, the violent contractions of his muscles causing his entire body to ache and scream with pain. Desperate for relief, he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it into a corner of the room. He shifted between leaning against the wall and vomiting until his stomach was completely empty, leaving him retching unproductively. He didn't know how long he had been in there—it felt like an eternity as time stretched on—before Wallace tapped quietly on the door.

"Steven? Are you alright?"

Steven let out a bitter chuckle. He was far from alright. It seemed like things couldn't possibly get any worse than they already were. He gagged again and again, harder and harder until his eyes were wet from the tears that wouldn't fall. He couldn't cry. No, he wouldn't cry. As he heard Wallace knock once more, he desperately wanted to respond, to let Wallace know that he was fine. The sound of the doorknob turning and Wallace's hushed voice filled the room.

"I'm coming in, okay?"

Steven felt the dread well up in his chest at the words that he knew were out of concern. He hadn't answered. Wallace probably just wanted to make sure that he was alive. He groaned before rasping "I'm fine."

"You need to find something else if that was meant to be reassuring. You are far from fine. Arceus, Steven, you're burning up! Your shirt is soaked..." Wallace yanked his hand away from Steven's neck "I'm sure I have something you can wear. Something cooler." He disappeared without waiting for Steven's response. He needed to calm down. His heart was pounding against his ribs, the vibrations reverberating throughout his body. He took a calming, shaky breath before pulling a t-shirt and shorts from one of the dresser drawers. Swallowing his panic he pushed the bathroom door open once more. He froze in place and he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. Steven was motionless on the floor. His shallow, raspy breath seemed to rattle in his chest. The rapid rising and falling of his chest. "Fine, my ass," he mumbled as he dropped to his knees over Steven. He was still breathing. "Steven." he shook his shoulder gently "I need you to wake up." It wasn't working. He shook Steven a bit harder and tried again "You need to wake up." Harder "Wake up! Damn it, Steven, open your eyes!" Harder still "I need you to open your eyes!" The last shake seemed to elicit a groan from Steven who inhaled a shaky breath before opening his eyes. He was looking at Wallace with a strange expression. Concern? Why would Steven be concerned about him? He jumped as Steven reached up with a trembling hand and brushed it against his cheek.

"No need...to cry..."

Had Wallace been crying? He scrubbed his eyes roughly and forced a smile. "At least you are awake now."

"What do you mean?" Steven asked hoarsely as he pushed himself up.

Wallace's expression turned serious as he said, "You lost consciousness. I need you to tell me how you are feeling. Honestly."

"Tired. Sick. Dizzy. Weak." Steven answered through chattering teeth "Cold."

Wallace muttered a curse under his breath as he took in Steven's worsening condition. "Okay, you are getting dehydrated," he remarked, but before he could finish his sentence, Steven was leaning over and gagging once again. Wallace anxiously chewed at his bottom lip, realizing that the situation was not looking good for Steven. It seemed likely that he would need to go to the hospital at this rate. "I would feel better if you were somewhere I could keep an eye on you," Wallace reasoned, his concern evident. Despite Steven calming down, he continued to gently circle his hand on Steven's back, silently offering support and comfort.

"I'm sorry for keeping you up. I feel really bad for intruding like this," Steven mumbled as he accepted the tissue Wallace handed him.

“You are not keeping me up nor intruding. If you are that worried about it then how about this.” Wallace climbed to his feet and lifted Steven slowly "Let's get you set up in the master bathroom where I can be close by if you need anything. I'll grab some blankets to make sure you're as comfortable as possible," Wallace didn’t like the idea of his sick boyfriend-to-be sleeping on the floor in the slightest, this arrangement was a fair compromise. Steven seemed to agree too.

Moving Steven into the other bathroom wasn’t too hard. Wallace made quick work of getting him settled in with blankets and a few pillows followed by clean clothes. Steven didn’t say much, but he hoped Wallace could tell he was grateful.

“Do you want to try some crackers?” Wallace asked.

Steven shook his head in response and then leaned against Wallace. It was more like he was resting on top of him rather than simply leaning against him.

“Got it. Feeling pretty miserable.”Wallace said, as he gently placed the back of his hand on Steven's forehead, letting out a sigh. Wallace noticed that Steven's skin felt warmer than it had been before. “Can you try some water at least?"

“I guess I can try.”

Wallace extended a bottle of water "That will be better than not trying. Start with small sips," he advised. "You need to keep as much down as you can."

Steven did as he was told, though he was barely awake for it, but as he had feared he couldn't keep it down. Wallace had been right yet again. In the following hours, his condition deteriorated rapidly and he went from bad to worse to utterly miserable. He was vomiting every thirty minutes and couldn't even keep water down. He sought comfort by propping himself against the wall, unable to lie on the floor due to the pain in his abdomen. Despite Wallace's efforts to keep him warm with a blanket, Steven would repeatedly push it away as he alternated between feeling too hot and too cold. Occasionally, he would drift off to sleep, only to wake up feeling even worse. To his embarrassment, he found himself in Wallace's lap on one occasion. Unable to do much else, he weakly suggested to Wallace “You should try to get some sleep.” Despite not knowing the time, Steven could see that Wallace looked exhausted.

Wallace responded without hesitation, "There's no way. You need me right now."

Steven winced and rubbed his sore throat, feeling the raw pain from the abuse it was taking. He muttered, "There’s no point in both of us being tired," as he struggled to speak through the discomfort.

Wallace anxiously chewed at his bottom lip and stared at Steven, his heart sinking at the sight of his worsening condition. Exhaustion was catching up with him, but he couldn't bear to leave Steven alone in such a state. He knew he had to be alert and ready in case he needed to rush Steven to the hospital. "Fine," he relented, "but I'll be in the next room. Wake me up if you need anything." He bent down and pressed his lips against Steven’s head. He chucked as the other man’s face went red. Steven was finally coming around it seemed. As he turned to leave, he cast a worried glance back at the miserable champion on his floor.

Steven found himself alone on the cold, hard floor. Despite knowing that he had asked Wallace to leave him there, a sense of loneliness washed over him. He longed for Wallace's comforting touch and reassuring words. Feeling selfish for desiring these things, he reminded himself that he had no right to feel this way since he and Wallace were not in a romantic relationship, and Wallace owed him nothing. He should be thanking Wallace for giving him a place to hide during this. He had to suppress a sigh as he thought about what would have happened if he had to go back to the hotel. He felt his eyes growing heavier and his breathing began to even out as he drifted off into the blackness. He wasn't fully asleep. At no point did he do that and was always just on the edge of consciousness. Five minutes felt the same as thirty. Thirty was the same as fifty. His body never let him fall into the dreaming state he longed for. Another cramp in his stomach pulled him back. He knew there was nothing left for his stomach to expel, but he complied nonetheless. This spell lasted less time than the last but he was left dazed in his fevered state. His body felt light as his mind teetered on the edge of consciousness. When the cramps in his stomach subsided, Steven dragged himself to the sink, studying his ashen complexion in the mirror and recognizing the toll his body was taking. Splashing cool water on his face provided temporary relief but also made him shiver. Feeling disoriented and groggy, he eyed the cracked door and flipped off the bathroom light. He knew his room well enough to navigate in the dark, which was providing some relief to his throbbing head, only to bump into an unexpected obstacle — his dresser, which he was sure hadn't been there earlier. Dismissing the oddity, he finally found his way to bed, seeking solace in the softness of his blankets and the coolness of his body pillow against his skin.

~X~

Wallace slowly opened his eyes, feeling an unbearable warmth and stickiness on his chest. As he focused on his surroundings, he suddenly became aware of something pressing against his chest, gently nuzzling him. Looking down, he was startled to see Steven wrapped around him, his flushed face resting in the curve of his neck, breathing heavily. He shifted slightly, repositioning himself onto his back, and carefully adjusted Steven so that Steven's head was resting on his chest. The slight movement seemed to rouse Steven from his fitful sleep as he wearily opened his eyes and nestled in closer. Wallace felt a small smile tugging at his lips as he whispered, "Good morning." Suddenly, he felt Steven tense and abruptly leaping away.

“Oh, Arcues! Wallace…I…I didn’t…I’m so sorry!” Steven stuttered. He had no idea how he ended up in Wallace’s bed. He felt the full force of yesterday’s illness hit him and he pressed his hand against his stomach with a groan. Great.

"Steven, please don't worry. You have nothing to apologize for. I wasn't trying to wake you up. You still don't seem to be feeling well," Wallace said in a calming tone. "Is your fever improving at all?" Gently, he placed the back of his hand against Steven's warm, pink cheek before checking his forehead. "Maybe just a little."

Steven mumbled, "Could have fooled me," as he leaned forward, feeling the pressure on his stomach offering slight relief. He shut his eyes, trying to escape the nightmare that felt all too real.

“Do you want to go sit in the bathroom again?” Wallace asked worriedly. “I think we should try to get some medicine in you.”

Steven shook his head slowly, feeling the intense heat emanating from his body as he nestled deeper into the warm embrace of the blankets. After a brief moment of indulgence, he suddenly became aware of his actions and resolutely pushed himself to sit up. "I'm sorry," he said.

"I’m only going to say this once so listen up,” Wallace replied firmly, his intense gaze grabbing Steven's attention. “You do not need to apologize to me. For anything. Period. Do you understand me?”

“You say that but…” Steven dropped his eyes to the blanket that he was wrapped up in.

"No excuses," Wallace firmly pulled Steven closer to him. "If you're not comfortable, we can always move to the couch. But either way, you need to rest."

“Couch then,” Steven answered immediately.

“Very well. Go on in there. I’m going to see what I have for your fever.” He gave Steven a fond look before disappearing into his bathroom. He knew he didn’t have much in the way of medicine in his cabinet as most of it stayed in his travel bag but he was able to find a bottle of Tylenol and an unused box of Dramamine. He was relieved to find Steven stretched out on the couch. He was finally starting to rest. He quietly set the medicine on the floor next to the couch before padding to the kitchen and filling the glass with cold water. He returned to the couch and started getting the medicine ready. “Steven, I need you to wake back up. Hey, I know you want to sleep, but you need to take this first.”

"Fine," Steven muttered with a halfhearted tone, casting a displeased look at the medicine. His stomach still felt queasy, and the thought of consuming anything made him feel even more uneasy.

“Hey, I know. But think of it like this. If you keep it down you will start to feel better. Besides, you weren’t able to keep any water down last night. You are dehydrated which is making you feel worse.” Wallace reasoned as he helped Steven sit. He held the Tylenol up to Steven’s lips and waited until Steven gave in, opening his mouth slightly, and slipped the pill past his parted lips before doing the same thing with the Dramamine. He offered the water to Steven but thought better of it when he noticed how badly Steven was shaking. Instead, he held the glass to his lips. Once Steven had gotten the medicine down the two got comfortable on the couch. Wallace took his book from the table and settled with Steven’s legs in his lap. It didn’t take long for Steven to drift off again, though he never fell completely to sleep at any point.

“Despite what you might think I very much enjoy your company,” Wallace said casually during one of Steven’s restless spells. He helped Steven sit up and started rubbing his hand up and down his back as he did his best to breathe through the nausea.

“Yeah right. After last night I severely doubt that.” Steven glared down at his lap. He knew his chance with Wallace was gone. He didn’t know he even wanted this chance and now it was too late. His eyes widened as Wallace’s cool fingers grabbed his chin, roughly yanking it towards him. He had no choice as he met Wallace’s turquoise eyes.

“I think you sell yourself short.” Wallace started as he leaned forward “It is not your fault that you are unwell and it certainly does not speak ill of your character. I still find you attractive. I would still choose you as my dance partner.”

Steven could feel the heat rising to his face as anxiety churned in his stomach, threatening to bring on nausea. He struggled to avoid meeting Wallace’s eyes "Please don't tease me," he mumbled. Wallace sighed, and Steven reluctantly looked back at the younger man, who was smoothly settling back on the couch. Steven winced, feeling the pain in Wallace's voice.

“I wasn’t teasing you, Steven. I am being completely serious. My intention was never to take advantage of you. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault.” Steven said with a rueful smile “I suppose I was being overly sensitive.” Steven paused to cough into his arm, throat suddenly stinging “I was worried that you didn’t feel the same way as me.”

Wallace gently reached out and pulled Steven's arm, drawing him close so that he was lying against his chest. "I do. Now rest. We can discuss this more later if you feel up to it," Wallace murmured softly.

“Can we stay like this then?”

“Naturally.” Wallace combed through Steven’s hair with his fingers “As long as you want.”

[roszabell]

some of matthew’s character/relationship flaws

Because he’s not perfect, and that’s what makes his personality of genuine kindness and gentleness so wonderful in the long run. He chooses to be empathetic, positive and warm, even when sometimes it’s difficult for him to do so.

Altruistic

^ Inferiority complex, yet at the same time convinced hes morally superior to everyone ("free healthcare and lack of gun crime eh!!" bro ur doing the bare minimum)

His self-esteem issues partly stem from trauma, and partly are just his personality. that said, he can tend to have a victim complex and make his own self-esteem issues everyone else’s problem (deflecting)

^ RE: the victim complex, he’s also kind of a gaslighter (to himself and others)

Passive-aggressive tendencies when something is wrong, and he can really be a judgmental asshole sometimes. but this ONLY exists in his head unless he really actually flips his lid (he also almost always feels bad abt the thoughts).

Clingy, anxious-attachment style - gets jealous ridiculously easily, though he may not want to be

Unhealthy coping methods: soft drugs, sleeping as avoidance, isolation. He doesn’t want to ask for help (n sometimes will outright refuse it) but he really does want someone to find him like this and help him. (Very much teenager crying in their room after an argument and just hoping someone will come check on them :( won’t take initiative himself though)

Honestly very whiney, and wallows in his mental health issues and doesn’t take steps to help himself unless pushed. (That said, I do think he drags himself to a therapist, even if he doesn’t take their advice). Often casually self-deprecating, he’s not being a pick-me he’s just thinking aloud or fawning/anxious, but after a time sympathy wanes and it can get old for others around him

TBH, secretly attention-whore (he’s really not that different from Alfred, at their cores)

Fatal flaw: selfless and loyal to a fault, if he decides he loves you, then boom he’s attached for life unless something major tears him away. (This can also make him overbearing or bitter if the feeling isn’t returned T-T the strong loyalty that he feels so naturally, if not mutual it makes him feel betrayed) Will stand up for the people he loves/trusts even when they’re atrociously wrong, or kill for them in a heartbeat, it brings out that side of him almost scarily. Even when that person doesn’t want him to; overstepping. The selflessness comes out in the more negative way that he doesn’t think much of himself, so he’ll gladly take someone’s place in death/sacrifice, without really thinking. He needs to value himself more :(

[tomionefinds]

Hi, do you have any fics where hermione travels to the past and they meet and establish a relationship but then when she’s thrown forward to her time again she ends up meeting him as Voldemort??

Hey Anon,

We had an ask like this a while ago, and also another in our ask box. Gonna copy/pasta our answers and add a few more I thought of since then. -JD

Building a Mystery by StBridgit M | Complete | 256k Avoidance of death provides a powerful impetus for Lord Voldemort to use more than one method to stay alive. If the Horcruxes were not his final play, what would happen? Would it be worth the price he will pay? Hermione finds herself out of place and out of time. What will she do when there is nowhere to run? A Tomione pairing that morphs into LV/Hermione. Reviews welcome!

A Big Ball of Wibbly-Wobbly by Colubrina M | Complete | 27k The war is over, the good guys have won, and Hermione Granger goes to sleep in her lovely flat only to wake up in 1953 in the bed of someone she’d really much rather were dead. “I’m working on the ‘kill Lord Voldemort now, work out the temporal paradox issues later’ plan,” she tells him. He laughs. Tomione. COMPLETE

Carpe Diem by Bertie Bott M | Complete | 118k The future is explained through the past and everything happens for a reason. Hermione becomes an active part of the history she studies so diligently in class. A dream come true, right? Nothing is as it seems…

Bound by Sharkdiver1980 E/Ma | Complete | 59k After a freak accident occurs while attempting to destroy one of Voldemort’s horcruxes that sends Hermione back in time to the year 1947, she finds herself forcefully subjected to a new law put in place by the ministry to counteract the damage to the wizarding population done by Grindelwald. It was no wonder she had never heard of Proclamation no.1682, otherwise known as “The Marriage Law”, since it had obviously been repealed almost as quickly as it was instated. The problem was, she had already been assigned a husband. HG/TMR

Somewhere in Time by SerpentInRed M | Complete  | 345k Sent back in time by a mysterious person and trapped in the past with a missing Dumbledore and an overbearing, charismatic Dark Lord, they had no idea how much they could dabble with time before the world they had known shattered into pieces.

All The Wrong Choices by QueenOfTheDreamers (QueenOfDreamers) M | Complete | 165k Hermione Granger is kidnapped by Severus Snape and taken to Lord Voldemort, who behaves in a bizarrely familiar manner with Hermione. When she’s rocketed back in time by Voldemort, she realises just why he knew her so well in the 1990s - it was because he’d known her very well indeed, as Tom Marvolo Riddle, in an entirely different time. She had to go back because she’d been there. But will she stay? Also has a sequel: Clocks Out of Order.

Restricted by Flaignhan T | Complete | 35k What harm ever came from reading a book? TRHG

The Diary by LittleMulattoKitten, weestarmeggie M | WIP | 121k Hermione was suspicious when she found an old journal amongst her things. Tom was intrigued the night someone else's handwriting appeared in his diary. Lord Riddle watches his past unfold from Hermione's side of the timeline to make sure history repeats itself without Albus's interference.

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 9

oh god oh fuck he's back

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

Hey Byakuya I'm glad you had your little reconciliation moment. We're still in a killing game though so don't forget

There is not as much of a focus on the other chars...trying to change that for the future because they're just as fun to write

Toko, girl...I do love Toko as a character but as a person she does some questionable stuff. This hasn't changed for this fic

@moonlighttogami betaread this!!

Content warning tags: Monokuma shows up to move the plot. I'm not sure what to tag this one with to be honest...canon compliance stressful events I guess?

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“So you guys are…like, better now?”

It’s Asahina who asks this, walking boldly up to where he’s sitting at breakfast the next morning. He raises an eyebrow at her, setting down the piece of toast that Makoto had delivered him.

“What on earth do you mean?” He asks right back. He has the feeling of eyes, following his every movement. It’s annoying, but he supposes it makes sense; being locked up in a building with no new information meant the common masses would be slavering for entertainment. Relationship drama, or gossip thereof, was one way to sate that need.

“Oh, you know…you guys seemed like you were arguing before,” She says casually, rocking on her heels. “Like, you would leave any time he was in the same room, you wouldn’t talk to him, and he stopped bringing you breakfast…” She trails off, voice ending in a pointed lilt.

“I don’t know what assumptions you’re making, but I’m not interested in feeding your delusions.” He replies coolly. Let them draw their own conclusions. “Why not bother Makoto about this?”

“What do you think they’re doing?” She jerks her chin behind her. Makoto is surrounded on all sides by Yasuhiro, Owada…and Ishimaru, who for some reason seemed oddly friendly, especially with Owada. The weight of three, overbearing personalities seemed to be physically crushing the boy, as he tries to avoid Mondo’s belting, burlish questions by ducking into his cereal.

He wonders if Makoto was looking at him, probably making pleading eyes for assistance, and purposely looks away. He quietly congratulates himself for his forward thinking; after waking up some time before seven (warm and tangled up in sheets and limbs, and with his internal clock thrown entirely off-course), he immediately kicked Makoto out, shoving the groggy boy bodily out of his room, specifically to avoid drawing this kind of unnecessary speculation.

(He worried, afterwards, about whether he had inadvertently ruined their recently repaired deal. But then Makoto said ‘good morning’ when he entered the cafeteria, and then brought him breakfast as if nothing had ever happened in the first place. And suddenly, it felt somewhat foolish of him to have been concerned in the first place.)

“Like I said. Draw your own conclusions.” He hums, lifting up his mug for a sip of coffee. It was bitter and watery, but there’s some slight improvement from before; his constant hassling of Ishimaru must have yielded results. “Is that all? Can you leave now?”

Asahina wanders off, apparently annoyed that he won’t reveal anything more. With her absence, he suddenly becomes aware of a presence behind him, and as he sets down his mug, he manages to identify the person by smell. 

In the time since becoming blind, it seemed that his nose had sharpened, though that wasn’t necessarily a pleasant adjustment. He sighs, “What, Fukawa.”

The shuffling footsteps that had been inching steadily closer to him stop, then scurry off. What a strange one. He suspected that she was of the same crowd as Fujisaki, an admirer that has confused expected appreciation of superiority for romantic infatuation. For the time being, she was still relatively harmless, and somewhat useful in how attentive she was, cleaning up after him at mealtimes. He could have Makoto chase her off later…somehow or another.

Breakfast was drawing to a close. People began putting away their dishes, meandering towards the exit. Byakuya stands up and begins walking towards the library, and not long after he enters the hallway does he hear the sound of footsteps, sneakers squeaking to catch up to him, and allows himself a small smile.

___

Ding dong, bing bong.

He pauses outside of his room door, looking up in the direction of the sound. How odd, but he didn’t think it was ten PM already…he’d been very careful to have Makoto pay attention to the time on his wristwatch, so that they would leave the library with ample time to spare. He glances over his shoulder, and sees Makoto standing in the middle of the hallway, staring confusedly at the nearest speaker.

“Ahem! School announcement, school announcement.” Monokuma’s voice grates from the speakerphone. “Nighttime is quickly approaching, but before it arrives... All students, please gather in the gym immediately. Emergency! Emergency!”

This…could only spell trouble.

Around them, their peers were beginning to peek out of their rooms. Some of them seemed to be trembling. A clamor of anxiety was beginning to build, people voicing their worry for what could be coming next.

“I-It’s not a b-b-body, right?” He hears someone stutter behind him, along with the sound of audible counting.

“No. We’re all accounted for.” Kirigiri's voice cuts through the hubbub. “But we better get moving. It’s not a good idea to defy him here and now.”

Her words help snap people into action. He walks on ahead, ignoring Makoto, who had begun to drift over to him. He still needed to maintain some semblance of normality, after all, and having the other boy hover over him too much would grow too annoying. That conversation from breakfast was still on his mind.

The gymnasium is the same as he last remembers it, save for the removal of Enoshima’s body. From what he can tell, even the floorboards that had been pierced through have been replaced. How meticulous. He wonders if it was Monokuma that took care of the repair, and is struck by the sudden ridiculous image of the bear toddling around with a box of tools and some wooden blanks before wondering if there was something wrong with his head beyond his eyesight.

Speaking of Monokuma, the insufferable toy wasn’t here yet. The others murmur among each other, uneasy and on edge.

“What could he possibly want?” Ishimaru wonders aloud. His unusually relaxed, easygoing demeanor from earlier today was gone, replaced with the stiff, high-energy nervousness that he usually displayed around Monokuma.

“Indeed. What might await us this time?” Celeste hums, calm as ever.

Nothing good, I’m sure. He thinks to himself. But really, there was only one possibility that was in his mind.

“It’s likely a new motive.” He says, and at that, a hush falls over the group. They all knew what that meant.

“A-a-a-” Yamada trembles where he stands. “A new motive?!”

“Nooo…not again!” Yasuhiro moans, hands fisting in his own hair. “And not after the earthquakes last night!”

The ripple of anxiety that had been running through the group is interrupted by confusion. “...Earthquakes?” Makoto asks.

“Yeah! There was, like, a lot of rumbling last night.” The clairvoyant nods emphatically, hair bouncing like the branches of a tree. “I was sitting around in the main hall last night, meditating, when I suddenly heard a lot of, like, loud booms and stuff. I totally thought it was construction or something at first.”

“Construction…?” Asahina tilts her head. “Would it be the mastermind trying to build something?”

“I mean, I don’t know if it was construction for sure. It was just, like, kinda loud, you know?” He waves his hands, as if trying to support just how ‘loud’ it was by movement alone. “Like, I’m surprised no one else heard it!”

“The rooms are all soundproof.” Kirigiri interjects now. “Most of the rest of us were in our rooms by ten o’clock.”

“Y-yeah, I know, but- wait, does this make me seem suspicious? But no one’s even dead!” The few shreds of interesting information he had to offer were gone, and now all he spewed were inane words again. “I just lost track of time and was staring off into space! Serious!”

They continue to prattle on, and Byakuya tunes them out. Construction noises…he’s not sure what it could imply. Nothing good, surely, if there’s been no sign of the rescue that Asahina had talked about earlier, then that meant the mastermind’s domain extended past the mere limits of the school - the noises Yasuhiro heard were also supportive of that.

“Hey hey heyy, everyone!! What’s everyone talkin’ about?”

A voice pierces the air, and they turn just in time to see Monokuma vaulting onto the podium. It’s a cartoonish sight, but Byakuya feels tense, an uneasy chill building at the base of his neck. And judging by the sudden stilling of the others around him, it seemed that he wasn’t alone in this reaction.

“What Hiro heard wasn't the sound of construction...but it could have been an explosion!” The thing laughs. “Or maybe a machine gun! Puhuhu...That can kinda sound like construction in a way!”

“What are you talking about…?” Makoto asks, and Monokuma rolls over in another fit of giggles.

“Ah-ah-ah! You won’t get that out of me so easily! You might as well try gutting me for stuffing first!” It wags a paw at them. “It’s a secret little secret, y’hear?? And speaking of secrets…”

It digs behind its back for a moment, and seemingly out of nowhere, produces a stack of what looks like large, blank, white cards, fanned out in its paws like a blackjack hand. “Ta-dah!!”

Byakuya fights the urge to squint. Subtly, he steps quietly over to Makoto’s side. “What’s it holding,” He hisses quietly.

“Envelopes…with our names on them?” As Makoto responds in a whisper, Monokuma tosses the envelopes, and they scatter over the floor.

“Everyone pick up yours!” The headmaster orders, and a few people hesitantly obey. “If you don’t, you’ll regret it~!”

Damn. Byakuya stares at the mess of papers scattered around them. He could crawl on hands and knees for a million years, and never find it… “Why should we?” He snarks, glaring at Monokuma. “What’s this all about, anyways?”

“Ohh, good question, little heir!” The bear nods, like a pleased teacher contemplating an enthusiastic student’s question. “Well, if you don’t want to hurry and grab your envelope just yet, I suppose I’ll give you an explanation. You see, I’m a bit bored these days…every single day is so blah and humbug, you know? I’m suuuree you understand!” It waddles, kicking at a few of the envelopes at its feet. “Gosh, it’s got me so frustrated, I’m about to start tugging all my threads out…that’s how bad I want some stimulation, y’hear?! Something rife with danger and intrigue!!”

With those words, Byakuya feels that dread, cold and dripping, crawling down his back. Somewhere behind him, Owada snarls. “The fuck’re you getting at? Spit it out!”

“Patient, be paa-tient! Goodness, it’s not good to be so angry all the time!” Monokuma shakes its head. “But I’m a good headmaster, so I suppose I’ll just go ahead and be frank for my eager lil’ students. Y’see, it’s taking too long for another blackened to show up, and I’m getting so, so, sosososo bored…so, I’ve come up with a new way to motivate you all!” It twirls, and gestures once more towards the envelopes. “This time, I’ve collected up some of everyone’s most embarrassing memories and secrets! And I wrote them up and put them into pretty little envelopes for you all to read through!”

The chill in his back turns icy, and his gaze flicks down to the envelopes scattered on the hardwood floor. Around him, he can hear others diving for their envelopes, snatching them up hurriedly - but he can’t move. Even if he tries, he won’t find it - he can only hope that Makoto had found his, and wouldn’t betray him by reading it. Or else…

And others have started reading already. He hears gasps, terror, disbelief, the crumpling of paper. Before him, Monokuma looks up, tilting its face in an impression of curiosity.

“Oh? What’s this? Not moving?” It reaches out and pats at his knee, and he takes an involuntary step back, disgusted. “What, are you Jesus or something? Free of sin? You think you have no dark or dirty secrets to hide?”

Ironically, it was this stupid taunt that brought him back from his growing panic. Calm down, he snaps at himself. He’d do himself no favors making a fool of himself here.

He forces his face into a sneer. “I’m not the kind of person to be moved to kill by such a pathetic motive.” He says loudly, so everyone else could hear. “You’ll have to do better to make me participate in such a miserable excuse for a game.”

“Still not impressed, I see? Such a shame…” Monokuma looks down, apparently unhappy by this declaration. “And I worked so hard on these too…oh well. Whether or not you look at it matters, if you don’t mind someone else reading it…right, Miss Fukawa?” 

There’s a squeak. Byakuya’s head jerks to the right, where he remembers seeing Fukawa last. Sure enough, the girl is hastily shoving something back into an envelope - one of two envelopes, that she has clutched in her hands-

He’s crossed the space between them before he’s even aware of what’s happening, and grabs the envelope out of her hands, fingers crumpling the paper. Before him, Fukawa flinches and cows, shrinking down. “U-um, I didn’t-I was just…”

He glares, and her words die out. Behind him, Monokuma cackles. “Puhuhu! Oh, that’s too good!” It rolls on the floor with laughter, feet kicking merrily. “This is just like a reality drama! …But, it’s not what I’m after.”

The toy wiggles its legs for a moment, then toddles back onto its feet. “Everyone! You have twenty-four hours! If no one is blackened by then, I’ll reveal everyone’s secret to the whole, wide world! Wouldn’t that be so embarrassing??”

“We’d never kill over something like this!” Makoto’s voice pipes up. He’s standing there, hands clenched at his sides. “Sure, this is something I’d rather not want people to know, but…it’s not something to take someone else’s life over!”

There’s a brief pause, and then a small chorus of agreement. “He’s right!” Ishimaru shouts. “Your plan is doomed from the start! No one’s going to murder someone for this kind of thing!”

“Oh, is that what you really think?” The air in the room seems to chill by several degrees. Monokuma’s voice, previously playful and lighthearted, suddenly takes a sinister tone. “Well…whatever! If that’s the case, I’ll be revealing anyone’s secrets in twenty-four hours anyways, to make myself feel a little better. Everyone…farenotwell!”

And he turns, waddles off, and disappears into the depths of the gym.

__

In the end, they decide to simply ignore it.

Perhaps ‘ignore’ is the wrong turn of phrase here. Byakuya thinks bitterly, as he watches the other begin walking out. In truth, they had hesitantly tried suggesting sharing secrets now, to eliminate the motive, but several (including himself) were strongly opposed to the idea.

In the end, Ishimaru sent them off with a hesitant, awkward suggestion to ‘not act too hastily’, which was about as much as he could offer in this situation. Byakuya grabs Fukawa’s shoulder as she begins to leave, feeling his skin crawl at the very touch of her.

“Ah- huh?! Um…” Her head jerks, between him and the door, and begins squirming in her shoes. “M-mister Byakuya…”

“Give me your envelope.” He says coldly, and she freezes. “Well?”

“U-um…I can’t…” He grabs it from her hand, and she squeals. “W-wait-! L-let me prepare my h-heart-”

“Makoto.” He turns to the boy standing a ways behind him. “Come here.”

Makoto trots over, and Byakuya thrusts both envelopes in his face. “Which one?”

“Uh…” He hesitates for a moment, then points to the one that Byakuya had already been holding.

Byakuya shoves Fukawa’s envelope back towards her, and she fumbles for it a little too late. It flutters to the ground. “Stay away from me.” He spits. “And if I hear any whisper about the contents of this envelope, I’ll make you regret ever being born. Do you understand?”

He turns before she can respond, marching towards the door. Makoto’s footsteps dog after him.

“H-hey, wasn’t that a little…harsh?” He asks, quietly. Byakuya shakes his head.

“Hardly.” He grits out. If anything, he should have been harsher. His hand is still clenched tight around the envelope, the edges digging into his palm. The fury from earlier simmers; he could hardly believe the audacity that girl had dared to have.

He doesn’t even know what was written in his own envelope, and he doesn’t think he’s interested in reading it either. At the very surface level, it would be something about the blood competition that his family had held for the title of heir, and the lengths he had gone through to win it. If the mastermind had been really scouring for something embarrassing, he supposes it could detail about how he once spent a period of his life disguised as Polaris, though that was hard information to come by. Either one would be annoying to deal with once revealed, but it wouldn’t kill him. It was hardly the worst thing a Togami has done in the course of history, and as heir, any such information would be suppressed before it could reach any important ears.

But, it would be considered a blunder on my part. A blot on his perfect record. He chews at the inside of his cheek, feeling the raw and bloody flesh from the other day run over the grooves of his teeth. To allow such a thing to happen would reflect poorly upon him, draw doubt onto his position.

It’s not like killing was the better option, however.

He sighs, and stuffs the paper into his pocket. Better to put it out of his mind for now; if time runs out and it gets revealed, he’ll just have to figure out a way to deal with it then. He’s gotten out of tighter spots. And no matter how much he and Makoto had smoothed things over, he still couldn’t trust the boy to the degree of having him read it out to him, especially if it was a secret that could affect the family name.

For the time being, it was time to go to bed, and mull it over in his sleep.

< previous - from start - next >

[ringstarrr]

Hi. If you don't mind, would you mind doing a song fic for Taylor Swift's coney island with either John or George? I just feel like it would work really well, especially these lines: "And do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? Will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?"

I Want to Tell You

pairing: john lennon x gender neutral!reader

warnings: angst, depression, self image

author's note: first of all, sorry for going missing for a few months. kinda had a burnout with college and work, but things are getting better - i think, at least.

and i kind of changed this a little lol i know it's a sad song and i made it accordingly, but the end is sweet. i might not be a swiftie but i'm a softie

1966.

It was like living through hell. Why did he have to say that? you’d think every once in a while since the whole bigger than Jesus broke out. John has always been one to make interesting comments - not to say controversial. You knowing him since you met at art school, it didn’t faze you a bit, yet, it was a different thing in America.

“They’re so fucking upright. It’s so phony.” You sought John during one of the tours you went by his side, still his girlfriend, flesh and nail. Now, long married, it’s been a few good months since you last followed beside him. John was getting more distant everyday and you didn’t know what to do.

He emitted his loud and heartwarming laugh. “I know, right?” John escorted you close to his chest, his nose in your hair. “Americans act like we are a bunch of weirdos. We are… different,” John chuckled, free hand hovering his face. “They’re nice. I’m the freak.”

This happened only a year prior to this fiasco. On that occasion, you made it your job to assure John he was an important person to the band and no matter what happened, you’d still be by his side. So far, you had maintained your words and stuck with John - even though he wouldn’t even look at you.

It made you insecure and going back in your head, trying to piece together why he had become such a loner those last months. Without preparation, you began to revisit your time at college, when you two first started dating. You were younger by a few years, and John was living the high of his teddy boy lifestyle. 

He was a heartthrob. There was no other way to describe it.

Every single time you glanced in his direction, John’s eyes were already staring you down. Smiling smugly, he’d shake his head and wiggle his eyebrows. You were left blushing. It was heaven, knowing you caught the attention of someone like him. Your heart could melt just by the sight of him.

At the time, you weren’t looking for a relationship. But John had other plans. He flirted with you every chance he got, always putting some innuendo into everything. Even though you rolled your eyes every single time, you couldn’t deny to yourself how your hands would shake whenever John stormed in your direction. Neither could you say he didn’t make winter feel like a sunny afternoon in spring, considering the speeding beat of your heart and the way he caught your breath.

The memories left you wondering if you had closed your fists around something delicate for this to be happening. The silent tears fell down and you didn’t try to avoid the unstoppable. It was getting overbearing just to breath. When you first met, you thought that maybe 一 you were certain, to be completely honest 一 he’d be the death of you. At the time, the idea brought colour to your cheeks, thinking it’d be because of his antics and how flustered he made you feel. Now, you had the sour taste of knowing why.

Marrying one of the most desired man on the earth, show stopping sensation and global phenomenon was incredibly hard. And the business changed John’s usual upbeat and sarcastic nature. Theses things were still there but he wouldn’t show them as much. It turned him into a depressed and lonely wolf. John was starting to head straight to bed whenever he came home, telling you less and less about his life and what he was going through in his head. 

Yet, you had an idea of why that was.

The press were writing a bunch of articles about all the things he and the boys did and, unfortunately, that included his health. Suddenly every news reporter was a nutritionist and they decided John was getting fat, which was far from the truth. You noticed how John was starving himself for awhile because of it, his self image completely deteriorated and his depression coming to a new highlight low-end. But John wouldn't say a word. You’d ask him, almost plead for him to open up you, but John wouldn't say a word.

In front of the television, you watched him and the band make yet another appearance for an interview. It was difficult for you to admit, but most of the time you heard his voice these days was on the TV. John was pushing you away. After talking to George, Ringo and Paul about the situation, they assured you this wasn’t happening just to you. John was pushing everyone away, whether he knew it or not.

Seeing that happy grin in his face on the telly, a sight you missed dearly, was enough to make your walls crumble down. You sobbed violently, crying out loud. What happened to my baby? Where did my baby go? Your whole body shook and your voice got hoarse by the second. But the moment you heard a car pull into the driveway, you pushed it all back inside, cleaning the tears’ path and clearing your throat. Uptight and anxious, you waited. 

“You watching that crap?” was the first thing he said. John closed the front door, dropping his keys in the coffee table and sitting beside you on the couch. He slid his arm around you, turning you slightly to kiss you with care. After it ended, you two maintained faces close, noses brushing against one another, eyes closed. It was moments like this that made you feel everything was worth putting through. 

“Just watching this group fine young men. They dress pretty well, especially that one” you said, turning a little to the TV, just enough so he could see your index finger pointing in his direction on the screen. 

John snickered. “Nah, he looks like a twat.”

You snuggled your face against his neck, eyes closed. “And how was today, pretty boy?” as you whispered the question you immediately regretted it. John’s body grew rigid, moving away from you. I can’t do anything right.

“Ah,” he shrugged his shoulders, face showing how John cringed at the question. “It was… normal, I guess.” He bit down his lip, drawing in a deep breath. Silence emerged between youc and you wanted to scream. With a sigh, John got up. “Well, I’m taking a shower.” 

Before you could think the decision over once more, you were speaking already. “John, can I ask you a question?” He was midway walking to your shared bedroom, stopping in his tracks. John turned around, confused.

Eyebrows knitted and hands on his waist, he answered. “Yeah, sure you can.” 

“Did I shatter you?” your voice quivered, just a little above a purr. You felt tears threatening to form but you didn’t care. You needed to get it off of your chest, it was killing you. John was startled by the inquiry, eyes wide.

“What makes you think that, love?” He still was by the bedroom, slowly coming back to you.

“You never talk to me anymore, John.” A sorry laugh left your lips as you said it, feeling like a lunatic. “And you used to come to me anytime if you were struggling, to have a laugh... Now you can barely stand to be next to me.” Your eyes flickered to the roof, holding back the emotions in turmoil. “You never ask about me anymore. It’s like you couldn’t give less of a shit sometimes,” you turned your focus back to him and it crashed your feelings. He was crying with a straight face, biting the inside of his cheek. “If this is the long haul, how’d we get here so soon?” 

You managed to get a laugh from him, smiling a bit. After a few seconds, he spoke up. “Sorry for not making you my centerfold,” John pushed the tears away with the back of his hand. “I hate that we turned into this… all because of me,” now it was his turn to cackle like a mad man, hands in his hair.

“It’s okay, John.” You gave him a half-hearted smile.

“No! Of course it’s not, love.” He took a long breath and began tapping his foot against the floor. “You are my wife, for fuck’s sake. I love you and I pushed away? I’m a dick.” John was obviously mad at himself. “I didn’t think it would upset you this much, love. Fuck.”

“Baby…” you cooed, getting up from the couch. You tried to reach for his hands, but he shook them instead.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me. I don’t want your pity.”

“John,” you took hold of his hand, your hold strong and tight. “Shut up. You’ve been through a lot and it’s okay to react like this. But you should be more aware of the fact that there are people that care and worry about you.” You pushed his fringe to the side with your free hand, resting it against his wet cheek. John closed his eyes. “You are not a bad guy, John. Just fucking stupid sometimes,” both of you laughed. 

“What’s a lifetime of achievement if I pushed you to the edge but you were too polite to leave me?” You cringed at that, not agreeing with him.

“I would never leave you, sweetheart. I love you too much,” you said, laughing a little. “Just don’t push me away anymore. I’m always here for you.”

“Sorry for being fucking stupid.”

[cheeriecherrymain]

Springtime On The Moor [Chapter 3]

Pairing: Viktor x fem!Reader Chapter Rating: T Story Tags: Regency AU|Slow Burn|Arranged Marriage (affectionate)|Strangers to Friends to Lovers|Angst/Comfort Proofread: No lol Taglist: @trfanglophile @fairy-writes @feeiry Chapter Summary: You and Viktor finally have an actual conversation with each other, revealing family secrets and deciding what to do about your future together.

You watch as the maid exits the room quickly, straightening her apron as she goes. Part of you feels bad for demanding she control her temper in the way you did - you could have spoken less harshly, you think, and tried to reason with her.

Instead of insinuating that she owed you respect because you’re her employer.

Your father had always taught you to be kind to the working class, growing up. Explained to you that no one person was inherently worth more than another, and that everyone was just trying to make their way through life and do the best they could.

Maybe she was just having a bad day, you think, slouching back into your chair, worry beginning to creep up in the back of your mind.

What would Viktor think of you, after such a show?

Would he think you a temperamental woman? Too fiery and loud to make a good wife? Would he think you were overbearing, or classist? Or would he-

“Why did you redirect her anger like that?” Viktor asks. His voice is thankfully quiet, and you can’t detect any kind of malice or ill intent. He just sounds curious.

You peek up at him from behind your lashes, and push yourself to sit up straighter.

“I’m your wife,” you explain softly. “Matters of the home fall onto my shoulders. That includes…asking the staff to be kinder.”

You watch as his features pinch together ever so slightly, drawing into the faintest frown you’ve ever seen. The corners of his lips quirked downwards, pressed into a straight line.

“I wasn’t aware our duties varied based on gender,” he admits. “I thought marriage was meant to be a partnership?”

You’re well and truly shocked by his assumption.

Nothing in his posture says he’s being facetious or dishonest, so…what kind of rock has your husband been living under, to not understand the most basic of social systems? Even those who didn’t participate in the kinds of interpersonal games that you did, were still aware of how unions worked.

Understood what kinds of roles everyone was meant to play.

There were, of course, some special exceptions. Your father, for example: a widower of many years, now. He hadn’t grown up knowing all the work it took to run a home. Your mother had shared everything with him, all her decisions and the goings on of the day - he had been forced to play the role of both parents to you and your siblings.

But that was a very special circumstance.

Your husband, on the other hand, just seemed…oblivious.

“Viktor,” you begin, somewhat hesitantly, unsure of how to proceed without offending him in some manner. “Did your parents never teach you about any of this? About what to expect from a marriage?”

You try your best to stay as outwardly kind as you can, knowing that one small slip in tone or posture could push him away from you, and cause him to clam up. He already seemed so reserved and unwilling to socialize, and you don’t want to undo whatever progress you may have made.

But despite your best efforts, you still watch as discomfort makes its way into his expression. The slight tense of his shoulders, and the way in which he so casually avoids eye contact.

“I just want to know where I should start explaining, that’s all,” you tell him, honestly. “You’re not going to face any judgment from me, not for this, and least of all for not knowing something in general.”

You’re still, as his gaze travels over you. Looking for any sign of deceit, anything that might hint to him that you’re trying to set him up for…for something unpleasant.

A joke, you wonder, or maybe just to ridicule him in general?

You would never.

But he doesn’t know that.

Finally, he relaxes in the slightest, mirroring your form to slouch back in his seat.

“You’re aware that I’m adopted, yes?” he asks, and when you give a brief nod of confirmation, he continues. “I am the youngest of six, and I don’t share blood with any of my siblings. When my parents were no longer able to have children of their own, they plucked me out of an orphanage in an attempt to raise one last baby.”

You can feel the surprise stretch across your face, loud and prominent. Had he really been taken in so young? With how your father had spoken of him, and described him as a boy, you’d assumed that he’d been brought home around nine or ten.

But as an infant?

Where did he learn his mannerisms, then?

“We -meaning my siblings and myself- had all assumed that I wouldn’t end up with any kind of claim to the family fortune,” he explains, chewing on the edge of his thumb nail. “Even from a young age, they would not pass up a chance to remind me of my place - I was the outsider, and I had no business trying to continue our parents’ legacy.”

You lean forward, resting your elbows on the table. 

“But you share a surname, don’t you?” you wonder.

Viktor nods to your question.

“We do,” he confirms. “But that hardly matters. Not when the purity of the bloodline is in question.”

Your heart sinks slightly, knowing he must have felt incredibly lonely growing up. Having a family, and being loved by his parents, but otherwise ostracized by the people his own age. Never being allowed to expect the same treatment as his siblings, as if his background made him somehow less.

You watch as he reaches for a bottle of wine that’s been set out on the table, reading the label for a brief moment before uncorking it with a soft pop.

He fills his glass a little more than you would consider polite, but then, you couldn’t really fault him for it, could you? Especially not when he gestures towards your own goblet at the last minute, as if he’s just remembered that you might like some, too.

He’s trying.

You slide the glass towards him, and wave him off when you’ve got a sufficient amount of red nectar - a little more than you’d usually indulge in, but with dinner on the way and a heavy conversation in your midst, you feel as though you’re entitled to it.

“At least,” he finally resumes, swirling the wine around in his cup, “that was what I had thought.”

He takes a sip, and reclines back in his chair again.

“We were of the mind that my brothers would take over the business when my parents either passed or retired, and my sisters would run the estate once they were married,” he goes on. “We assumed that I would be permitted to stay in the manor as long as I pleased, as part of the inheritance conditions. All of us were happy with that outcome. The business has never been in any of my interests.”

He takes another mouthful of drink, his expression pulling into one of frustration.

“Imagine my surprise, upon finding out that my parents willed everything to me.”

He doesn’t sound angry about the situation he’d been given - not really. Fed up, perhaps, and like he had never expected his life could go the way it has.

It makes you sad, the more you think about it. Imagining your husband as a little boy, tormented by the people who he was meant to call family, never allowed to believe that he could be more than their words, or achieve anything. Not even allowed to dream.

And now, forced to marry someone he didn’t know - someone he probably had no desire to know.

“I’m…sure your brothers and sisters were not so pleased?” you suggest, earning dry laugh from your husband.

“That’s one way to phrase it,” he scoffs. “They were outraged. Even when I told them that I had no idea I was in the will - told them that I would be happy to hand over everything they’d been previously promised! All I wanted was a place I could continue working.”

You finally take a sip of the wine in your hand, listening intently to the sweet aftertaste of cherry.

“But there was no reasoning with them,” he laments, his tone growing somber. “They were scorned, and they blamed me. I knew that if I gave them anything, they…would have taken everything. I would have lost years of work - my home, any semblance of a future. Even now, they still…”

Your eyes remain trained on him, following as he stoops forward to lean his elbows on the table, pressing the tips of his fingers into his temples to rub slow circles. 

A very well-practiced motion, you realize.

“My siblings have done everything in their power to drive my life into ruin. I have never been one to care for my social reputation, but…the rumours. Their threats, scaring away most of the staff employed by the estate.”

He finally looks over to you, his eyes wide with a forlorn sense of sadness.

“I’m sure you’ve seen the garden. There’s no one in town who is willing to risk their social life to care for it, so it’s fallen to ruin. I would do it myself, but…” He gestures down towards his leg - out of your line of sight, but you know that he’s pointing towards the shiny metal brace that you’ve never seen him out of.

Of course he’d love the place he’d grown up. Of course he’d want to take care of it. You’re furious with yourself for ever thinking he might have just been a careless man, unconcerned with what other people thought of him.

In truth, he cares quite a bit.

And how frustrating it must be, you think, to see something so beloved falling to ruin around you, unable to do anything to stop it. To have people actively working against you, counting and praying on your downfall.

You quietly drum your fingers on the table.

You can feel Viktor’s eyes on you, questioning and curious - and you can tell that he knows you’re thinking. 

“Has your business been impacted by any of this?” you ask.

Suddenly enough that he hesitates a moment before replying.

“The family business has taken a loss-”

“No, no,” you interrupt with a wave, taking another sip of wine. “I mean your business. The deal you have with Mr. Talis. HexTech, if I’m correct?”

His jaw slackens when you reveal that you know about that. And in truth, it had required quite a bit of digging around and asking questions: you’d been far too curious about the mysterious man who’d appeared out of the darkness to ask for your hand.

He was difficult to find a trace of, you know, always careful to cover up his tracks and make sure no one saw his face or knew his name.

You would have thought him shady, were the HexTech company not so well-known.

“…not thus far, I don’t think,” Viktor finally replies.” My participation in our projects is not typically brought up when speaking to sponsors - Jayce does all the networking, and we do the rest together.”

You drum your fingers on the table some more.

“Your siblings will try, then,” you tell him, bluntly.

Worry falls over him when he figures out what you’re implying: that the people he once called family were ruthless in their endeavors, and would stop at nothing to see him brought to his knees. That they would be willing to ruin anyone’s lives to do it.

Even when they discovered his association and partnership with Mr.Talis, they would simply seek to tear him down, too.

“They have been successful in bringing you to ruin thus far,” you tell him, “No one wants to work for you, save the select few you have employed - but nowhere near enough people to keep up with the work that a house demands. Your estate is in shambles, and your name is so tarnished that the people I considered close friends didn’t show up to our wedding.”

He peers over at you, guilty.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, and you cut him off with a wave.

“Don’t be,” you sigh, taking another sip of your drink. “I will admit that I was upset about it yesterday, but…knowing that very little of your reputation has been your choice has calmed me down a bit.”

You smile at him, sweet yet mischievous.

“I’ve a proposition for you, husband. Something that will benefit both of us.”

Viktor raises a brow, intrigued, and gestures for you to continue.

Your smirk widens.

“I suggest revenge.”

His face falls a fraction, but before he can say anything, you speak over him.

“I’m not suggesting bodily harm. I’m not suggesting any kind of like-minded retaliation, either,” you promise, easing some of his tension. “ I’m well versed in social politics. Quite frankly, I find it entertaining and invigorating - and I enjoy getting to dress up on special occasions. It wouldn’t take a lot of prodding among my typical circle to get your name bouncing around.”

You take the last mouthful of your wine, and set the goblet down on the table.

“ A couple of kind words here and there. Everyone knows that you…lack social prowess, so any word of mine would be considered an absolute truth. I’m your wife, after all - and I’m meant to know you in ways that are far more intimate than your siblings ever would.”

You don’t miss the way he fidgets in his seat at your choice of words, nor the way pink begins to blossom across the tops of his cheeks. His awkwardness is honestly quite charming, in your opinion, if not slightly frustrating.

Frustrating, because how easily does he manage to catch your interest.

“All I’d have to do would be to let slip a few things that directly contradict the rumours spreading around, to the right people,” you finish, proudly knitting your fingers together to set them in your lap.

Unsurprisingly, though, Viktor seems unconvinced.

“Do you really think that all the damage done is so easy to fix?” he wonders, almost incredulous. “Talk to a couple of your friends and let them gossip?”

“No,” you admit. “I don’t. But we don’t need to convince anyone, Viktor. We just need to make them doubt. Doubt your siblings, doubt what they’ve heard. Once people start questioning, they’ll be willing to look a little closer, and be a little closer.”

Finally, finally, he seems to understand what you’re saying.

“What would make someone angrier than thriving, despite their attempts to assure otherwise?” you ask, of no one in particular.

Your husband smiles then, and not just a small quirk of the lip. A genuine smile, laden fully with the same sort of mischief that you have. A giddy, almost playful edge to it, and…something you can’t quite decipher. A sense of longing, perhaps - hope?

“You’ve thought this out very thoroughly,” he says, “and yet you’ve only been here a day.”

“Well, it’s not just your life anymore, now is it?” you tell him, matter-of-factly. “It’s our life. Our name, our home, our reputation. And neither of us deserve to be treated so poorly.”

There’s more you want to say to him - more conversation to be had about how to improve your lives and where to start, how to fix the garden. Your entire plan, really, as unfinished as it is.

Were it not for the servants’ door flinging open, startling the two of you away from each other.

The kitchen staff begin pouring in with dishes of food, setting them out around the table so you might choose what you’d like to eat - much of it which you’d never seen before, spices you’d never smelled, colours you’d never eaten.

Viktor promises you later that you’ll speak on the matter tomorrow, after you’ve both had some time to rest - claiming he still had some work he’d yet to finish that evening, and that he didn’t want to be late on its completion.

You’ve half a mind to ask him to stay with you: to ask him to spend the night with you, as a husband was meant to - even if it just meant sleeping together in the same bed. But with his beliefs and general awkwardness…you know even suggesting something like that would make him retreat back into his shell.

You’ll just have to work on refining your plans for the manor, and hope they would be enough to impress him.