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mymessyfandomlibrary · 29 days ago

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The Hand That Feeds

Featuring; Sevika x AFAB!Reader

Rating; 18+

Other Notes; Mutual pining, strangers to kinda-friends to 'yeah, we fuckin' -> Porn with plot. This was a gift that I wrote for a friend's birthday. I already shared it with them and got good feedback, so, I'm unleashing it to Tumblr.

Content Warnings; Smut, reader is AFAB, if you don't like the nickname 'princess' my condolences. Smut won't be until the second NSFW banner.

Word Count; 3.3K

Link to Masterlist

You have a tradition.

Every new moon you would sneak out of your aunt’s residence — she was a kind lady and took you in and gave you free reign — and travel across the river into Zaun.

Yet, despite what others may have thought at your regular travels, it wasn’t for thrill seeking or for nefarious activities. Part of it was out of sheer boredom, as Pilotver, while being the city of progress, was also a city of bureaucratic stillness and policy. A dreadful place when you needed a bit of chaos and authenticity.

Which is how you found yourself in The Lanes time and time again. But it wasn’t purely out of sheer boredom and wanderlust that you kept on coming back into the Undercity.

While many people had their own interests at the forefront — both in Piltover and in Zaun — you mainly came to help; bringing in fresh food. Bread, fresh vegetables and fruit, and cured meats. You used the bit of wealth that you had left from your family to give to others less fortunate. To those that had no one else to turn to.

You had been doing this long enough that you knew familiar faces and even some names. And tonight was no different in that regard.

You may not be from Zaun, but you have been to The Lanes enough to also recognize people who stuck in the background, watching.

For the past five months, a woman always stayed in the background, leaning outside of The Last Drop. She never approached you, but when your eyes crossed paths, you knew that she had been watching you give food to those that you could.

The past five months when you had come into the city she had only watched, assessing what you were doing. Seeing if it was for some ulterior motive.

Was the food spoiled? No.

Was it poisoned or traced with something? Also no.

As far as she could see and from the information that the people gave her about you, you did this for no other reason than you wanted to. And Sevika knew from when she first saw you that you weren’t from the undercity — there wasn’t the same edge that the people here had, you were sweet.

You were giving food out and this time she approached you. The dim lighting from the flickering neon signs reflected on her metal arm, catching your eye. Giving a little boy enough food for the day — as giving them too much would make them a target for theft — you turned to the newcomer.

She didn’t say anything, just giving you a once over, still assessing you.

“So,” she cocked her chin to the side a bit, talking down at you in a guarded yet curious tone, “how long have you been doing this for, topsider?”

Topsider.

You knew that you didn’t really fit in in The Lanes, but most people didn’t give you any trouble, just giving you a side glance before minding their own business.

A small smile, born out of the expected politeness of Piltover, graced your face. “Years? It’s hard to say.”

Sevika quirked her brow, “Why?”

“Why not,” you answered back.

Sevika’s mouth twitched in both amusement but also annoyed at the answer. Amused because you said it genuinely, as she was expecting a bit of sass and entitlement. Annoyed that you seemingly had no ulterior motives.

“Alright then.” Sevika just stood there for a moment, and you resisted the urge to shuffle as she continued to assess and try to come to a conclusion. Your eyes once again cross paths and she turns back and goes into The Last Drop again, leaving you alone.

Strange.

You were back in The Lanes and the sack of food had been emptied, all of it being handed out.

Ever since the woman with the metal arm had been keeping an eye on you there were fewer people who tried to push you around. It could also be the large visible knife that you kept strapped to your thigh, but having her presence around also kept people with ill intentions away, letting you be able to help the people you needed to and wanted it.

She was at her usual spot, standing by the door of the pub. Watching.

It has become a part of your routine. You had come to expect her to be there. Even though you didn’t even know her name, she had become a comforting presence in the background, like she was watching your back.

She wasn’t there tonight though.

No one had tried anything, as the knife was good enough deterrence for now, but it felt off without her there.

Placing the empty bag in your personal satchel you took the time to explore The Lanes. This was the original reason why you came into the undercity, but upon seeing how much worse the conditions here were, you sought to try and help where you could. People were just trying to survive and make ends meet.

“There’s a fight–” a guy bumps into you and keeps on walking, talking to his companion.

Around the bend you could hear a commotion, and curiosity got the better of you and you followed the noise.

There was a fight in full bloom, and the woman that you had expected to be silently watching you was in the heart of it. The fight was reaching its end though, both parties looking worse for wear, but the guy she was fighting was way worse off. The thing about having a metal arm is that it does a lot of damage to whoever it hits, and Sevika may have had some of her blood on her, but most of it was from the other guy.

He hit the ground, unconscious, and Sevika crouched down and whispered something in his ear before getting back up and walking away, but not before she saw you in the crowd. She paused for a second before continuing on, walking away from you. She had changed direction, like she was avoiding you. Going against your better judgement, you followed her, going into a dimly lit pub and looking through the sea of faces before you spotted her at the bar, ordering something.

You don’t know her. Why are you doing this? This is a stupid thing to do—

You sat down next to her and she gave you a sideways glance.

She had a cut on her face and a bloody nose. There was definitely going to be a large bruise on her arm by tomorrow. And despite being just in a fight and looking worse for wear, she was taking a long drink like this was nothing. But it probably is nothing to her.

This was also the closest that you had gotten to her, and despite her being beat up and the shit lighting in the pub, she was a very — pretty isn’t the right word, she was more than that — handsome woman.

“What are you doing,” she asked, slightly turning her head so she could properly look at you.

“You’re hurt,” and I wanted to make sure that you’re okay. But you don’t add that. You two don’t know each other. You aren’t friends. Hell, you don’t even know her name!

Sevika huffs, amused. “You saw the other guy.”

You had. “Still.”

She puts down her drink and fully turns to you, leaning forward a bit. “Listen, sweetheart, I can handle myself.”

Sweetheart. The nickname, while meant to be demeaning, made you … you didn’t know what it did, but you liked it.

She leans back, pays for her drink and leaves the pub, leaving you alone.

Sevika was back to standing guard over you. She had picked it up after hearing the silent murmurs about a topsider frequenting The Lanes.

In the months that she’s been watching — far longer than you had started noticing her — she knew a few things.

You always visited during the nights of the new moon, using the darkness as a cover.

You carried a large knife on your thigh. You never had to use it, since people knew she was keeping watch, but she saw how you would twirl it around when bored — it wasn’t just for show.

You were kind. She may not know your name, but she mentally called you Sweetheart. It seemed fitting.

And a new forth thing: you apparently made it a habit to be in the same places that she frequents when you really ought not to.

The fight had been by accident, but she hadn’t expected you to follow her into a pub.

Then again when she was making rounds — you had crossed paths with her and you gave her a nod before continuing on.

Once when she was coming out of the brothel that she frequents when pent up — something that was becoming more often as of late. You didn’t say anything, but you did walk past faster than usual, and Sevika felt a tinge of disappointment.

She had come to expect you. As much as she was an expected presence in your routine, you had become one in hers.

Tonight was the new moon, and Sevika was standing where she typically did. Waiting for you.

But you don’t show up.

Some of the regular people ask her where you are, as whenever Sevika is watching guard, you aren’t far behind. But she didn’t know. She didn’t like that she didn’t know where you were. It lingered in the back of her mind the next night.

This time you do show up, and when the last bit of food gets handed out she walks towards you, determined.

“Where were you last night?”

You turn around, not expecting her to really take notice that you were missing last night, but also she noticed.

“There was a blockade last night. The city is on high alert, so I couldn’t cross last night,” you answer.

It was true. Due to recent events, Piltover was on high alert. You couldn’t have crossed, not without suspicion or your monthly visits coming to light, so you decided to wait it out.

Sevika runs her tongue across her teeth, trying to think of something to say, but all that she knows is that she’s relieved to see you. She accepts your answer though, giving you a grunt.

You both stand there for a moment, as if waiting to see who would say something first. Who would break the slightly awkward tension. Hell, it was worse than the time you had bumped into her after she came out of a brothel — that was awkward.

You lick your lips, “Did something happen last night? When I was gone?”

No, nothing happened. “No. People just missed you.” I missed you.

Sevika caught the motion of your mouth and she also noted your appearance. She had always thought you were pretty, hell, beautiful, but she never made a move. Why, though?

She was a cautious woman, especially with those she let close. “Be careful, sweetheart.”

There’s that name again. This time you felt something warm in your chest, but she had already walked away.

You had finally learned your mystery woman’s name. Sevika. It had been several months — a year to be exact, but like you were keeping track of every time you saw her (you were) — and you finally knew her name from asking one of the bartenders at The Last Drop.

You were standing in her usual spot. You were early, the sun just starting to set, and Sevika was not expecting for you to be waiting for her.

“We need to talk,” you said, getting up from where you were leaning.

Sevika crossed her arms, not expecting the bold move. “About what?”

You walked over to a more private area, a back alley, “You keep watch over me. You have been for a while. Why?”

Ah, you finally asked the question that Sevika had been asking herself. Now, she could be honest about it — which would shed light that she had taken an interest from the rumours and then taken an actual interest in you — or she could keep it simple. Uncomplicated.

And then she remembers your answer to her question all those months back when you had first talked. “Why not?”

You pause, looking at her. You hadn’t expected that answer. You hadn’t expected her to be giving you an intense longing look that screamed more than just wanting to talk.

Fuck it.

You stepped forward and did something that you’ve wanted to do for months, placing your mouth onto hers.

And Sevika’s mouth slotted against yours, reciprocating the kiss you initiated. Once given the permission, she threw caution to the wind, finally doing what she had also been wanting. The reason why she was so pent up. You.

She ran her tongue across your lip, asking for silent permission to enter your mouth and once you did, your tongues moved against each other and she groaned into the heated kiss before breaking away. Her eyes were simmering with want, and like hell she was going to continue what you started in a dank alley.

“Didn’t know you felt that way, sweetheart,” she huffed, breath hot against your ear, making the hair on the back of neck prickle in a pleasant way.

You groaned when she pulled back. You had finally started to get what you wanted only for her to pull away. “And you feel the same way.”

It wasn’t a question. You knew. It was damn telling the way that she took over and led the kiss that she wanted you the same way you wanted her.

Sevika hums at your answer, her hand playing with the ends of your hair gently, “Do I?”

She usually wasn’t a tease, but she enjoyed seeing your reactions, wanting to hear you say the words. “What do you want, sweetheart?” She asked, nearly purring.

This woman will be the death of me.

You place yourself to where one of her legs was in between yours, “You.”

Sevika ground her leg into your core, sending some much needed friction to where you wanted her. “You’ll have to wait for a minute, princess.”

Like hell she was going to ravish you here, so picking you up, she went to a better place, using one of the back doors to get into one of the private rooms of the pub where no one would intrude — thankfully this one had a bed.

Once the door is locked, you’re both back to being on each other. Hot mouths clashing. And then the back of your knees were hitting the mattress.

You sat down, bringing Sevika with you, and she began kissing down your neck, leaving you wanting more.

A thought came into her mind, and she left a rather sharp nip on the space between your neck and shoulder, her thigh slipping between yours and flipping your positions to where you straddled her thigh. “Ride it, sweetheart.”

The timbre of her voice made you shudder and a pool of heat to form again at your core. You began to grind yourself against her thigh, annoyed that you were both clothed but wanting some sort of release. “Clothes,” you mutter, trying to control how desperate you were for her, “off.”

Sevika chuckled, amused, but obliged, taking off both of your clothes — again, leaving hot kisses on your shoulder. Once her damned pants were off, you began grinding on her again, and she could feel how wet you were and she grinned.

She could tell that you wouldn’t be able to get off just with that, but you were putting on a good show for her. “You’re doing so good, baby. You feel so wet. Fuck.” She groaned, popping one of your nipples in her mouth, and rolling the other in her mouth.

You keen, arching into her touch, wanting more. While the friction from her muscular thigh was delicious you needed more. “Sev, I –” you slightly push her head down, silently asking for her to go down on you.

Sevika put her hands on your hips and dragged you up towards her mouth, “I know.” And she placed a kiss to your inner thigh before tracing your cunt with her tongue, taking your clit into her mouth.

“Fuck,” you moan, finally getting the friction you so badly wanted. Your hands tangling in her hair for something to hold on and she groaned, the vibrations just adding to your pleasure.

Slowly, Sevika added a finger into your cunt, probing until you arched when she found your g-spot. She could tell that you weren’t sitting so she nipped your clit when she felt you hovering, “Sit.”

Once you put your full weight on her face she hummed, satisfied, and added another finger to reward you, putting extra pressure there.

With her fingers going in and out of your cunt and her tongue tracing your clit, you were reaching your climax, feeling your thighs clench up when Sevika removes her fingers and slows down on your clit, delaying it.

“W-why did you stop?”

Sevika hummed, taking the fingers that were once in you into her mouth, cleaning them off. “I didn’t.” And she moved you higher up so that her tongue was now in you and her nose ground into your clit.

She loved seeing you like this, fucked out on her fingers and her tongue, and if her tongue wasn’t doing the most mouthwatering movements in you, she would be telling you how gorgeous you were. Praising you and your body — mind you, she fell for you for how you treated others first.

You grabbed for her hand, the one that was just in you a moment ago and placed it on your neck, and Sevika carefully squeezed, choking you in the right way. “You’re doing so good, princess.”

You were reaching your high again, and Sevika was not slowing down, if anything, feeling the way that your thighs tensed on her face made her push forward. The slight pressure on my airway made you melt in her hands, and did a particularly mean nip to your clit before continuing eating you out. You were sweating by now, and moaning into her touch.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” She groaned, and added a bit of pressure to your lower stomach, her tongue going in deep.

Tugging a bit more harshly at her scalp you felt your breathing hitch, your eyes roll back, and you shuddered as your high finally came.

Sevika didn’t ease up, instead taking the hand that was on your neck back down to your cunt, adding three fingers inside you this time as her tongue continued on your clit. That move during your climax and the stretch alongside the pressure on your lower stomach had you seeing white and Sevika groaned as she felt you release.

You whined a bit as Sevika slowed down her movements, sensitive from your climax, working you down from it.

Giving your inner thigh a kiss, she laid you down next to her on the bed, before getting up and grabbing a warm damp cloth to clean you up with, even though your release was still on her face. She licked it off of her lips and dragged some down from her cheeks to her mouth before using the same cloth to clean her face and thigh, laying back down next to you.

She placed a hand on your face, tracing the planes of it.

You snaked your hand downward, but Sevika stopped you, bringing your hand back up, “You don’t worry about that.”

“I want to make you feel good,” you breathed, annoyed that she had stopped your wandering hands.

Sevika traced her tongue over her lip, looking at you, “You did.”

Oh. Even though she had literally just eaten you out within an inch of your life, hearing her say that she was satisfied just by giving you pleasure made you clench your thighs.

That movement didn’t go unnoticed, “Mmm, you’re still sensitive, sweetheart.” Her hand travelled down your body, promising another round once you weren’t so sensitive, although she wouldn’t mind seeing you cry from it.

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane smut #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x afab reader #sevika smut #i wrote this over a week ago and got good feedback so *unleashes the fic*#in other notes; i survived black friday in retail. and this is the second smut piece i've written - the other time was in 2021

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chloe-skywalker · 2 months ago

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Smarter - Ghostface / Billy & Stu

Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Murder mentioned?

Word count: 618

Summary: When they're talking about the murder in town Y/n makes a comment that gain’s two boy’s attention.

Authors Note: Not really a romantic mention but they're intrigued by her. First Ever Scream Imagine, it’s short but it’s a start!

Also

Happy Halloween!!!!!

I'm at Horror Nights !

Masterlist

Scream Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“What do you think Y/n?” Sidney asked looking to her friend that sat in front of her as they all ate lunch around the fountain.

“About what?” Y/n asked having zoned out of their conversation, she turned her attention up to Sidney.

“The murderer in town? Duh.” Tatum teased her friend playfully, rolling her eye’s.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows and asked. “What about them?”

“Why do you think they're doing it?” Sidney was curious even if it brought up feel’s and memories she’d rather forget. Y/n alway’s thought of points and views none of them considered. She looked at it in a different, less gernetic way and it gave them a different perspective.

“Could be mindless killing.” Y/n shrugged thinking about it but even to her the kill’s being mindless killing’s just for the hell of it didn’t seem correct.

“Doubtful. It’s gotta have a motive, otherwise why call first?” Randy shook his head in disagreement as he took a sip of his soda.

“True. Maybe it’s to raise the stakes? Build adrenaline for a better chase.” Y/n tilted her head with a smirk at the corner’s of her lips. The killer called to get their victims into a false sense of security before making them completely terrified for their lives. They were playing with their prey.

“Before WHAM! Spill your guts.” Stu said loudly making Sidney and Tatum jump and Y/n laugh at his usual Stu antics, Billy just shook his head while Randy scoffed.

“It’s all so disgusting.” Sidney shook her head and her face contorted into a very disgusted look.

“Sick.” Tatum fake gagged.

“Could’ve been more creative.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders thinking the killer wasn’t very creative besides the phone call. Even though she had spoken lowly in a almost inaudible volume it caught two of the boy’s complete attention.

“Let’s get to class.” Sidney grabbed her bag, Y/n and Tatum followed suit with Randy on their heels as Billy and Stu stayed behind under the disguise of cleaning up.

“Hear that Billy? More creative.” Stu turned his head towards his best friend and partner in crime.

“Fuck off.” Billy shoved Stu’s shoulder to make him back up a bit. Billy’s attention was still on Y/n as he watched her retreating form. Without even knowing she had guessed correctly about ‘Ghostface’ techniques and it didn’t surprise Billy but it did make the wheels start turning in his mind. Especially when she made the comment about the kill’s not being very creative.

“You think she knows?” Stu questioned in a whisper so others wouldn’t hear their conversation.

“I think she suspect’s.” Billy had noticed Y/n’s eye’s flick to him and to Stu when she answered Tatum’s question. But whether it was from her having a feeling they were behind the murders or just because they were friends Billy didn’t know and it frankly bothered him. Y/n was smarter than the other’s and if anyone would figure it out Billy’s money was on Y/n.

“Does that change the plan?” Stu hoped it didn’t, he rather enjoyed Y/n’s company and he liked that he could make her laugh. She got his humor and she didn’t judge him or view him as just the clown. Stu didn’t want her to be added to the list of who needed to die.

“No. We knew she was smarter than the others. This doesn’t change anything.” Billy didn’t see this as an interference to their original plans. Y/n was not on the kill list but she would be more watched from now on. To make sure she didn’t spoil anything. They had other plans for her . . .

Taglists:

@padawancat97 @maryvibess @gruffle1

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 11 months ago

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Two different kinds of love

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (y/n)

Warnings: none, enjoy!!

Bea series (girl dad Carlos)

Another race weekend was behind you and now Carlos was back home with you and Bea. It was a lazy morning - your favorite kind of morning where you were snuggled up to him in bed, your back pressed against him, his warm arms wrapped around you and his lips softly pressed on your skin.

"I love having you home" You say quietly closing your eyes.

"I love being home" He says pulling you closer to him.

"You know, I'm interested in your opinion about something."

"I'm listening."

"So I was talking with my girl friends the other day-"

"Oh this is going to be interesting.." He chuckles and you join him kicking his leg.

Like any woman, you always shared things with your man that you heard or learned from your friends. Not that he was interested in any of that, but he always listened attentively because he knew it was important to you.

"So we came to the topic of how relationships change when children come and considering that none of them have children yet, they were interested in whether it is wrong to love your partner more than your child."

"Ay Dios mio.." He sighs rolling his eyes. "And what did you tell them? That is such a stupid question."

"But really, what do you think? Have you ever even found yourself thinking about it?" You ask, genuinely curious about what his thoughts are.

"It's not easy to answer that question and it's hard to explain. Those are two completely different kinds of love. Bea is my little girl, my whole world, but you gave me her." A feeling of immense warmth spreads through your body as you listen to him talk. "You have taken a place in my heart that no one can ever replace. Nothing would make sense without you."

You place a gentle kiss on his hand fighting back the tears in your eyes, but one manages to escape and roll down your cheek.

"I'd do anything for her at any time. It hurts how much I love her. But I think I'd die without you."

You were his greatest support, strength, wind at his back, his motivation and comfort. He always knew how much you loved him even though you didn't often share such deep words with him, and now that you did, they really touched him.

"That's why I'm always frightened when you get into that car. That's why I love having you home." By now the tears were streaming down your cheeks, there was no point in hiding them anymore.

"Turn around" He says quietly and when you do he puts his hands on your cheeks wiping the tears with his thumb. "I don't want you thinking that way" he presses a kiss to your forehead before he continues. "I have nothing without the two of you and I'll always come back home to you. I promise."

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budgieflitter · 8 months ago

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WELCOME TO PLEASANTOWN

PART 1 part 2!!! this took much more thinking than the previous one but i hope it turned out just as engaging :) i'll likely make another post with more details also big thanks to al-pomegranate-seeds for the ideas you sent me earlier, it really helped! the descriptions are below 🔽

GRUNT = DREAMER Professor Buzz Grunt is a respected researcher in his field, as well as an aspiring history novel author. However, after the unfortunate fire accident and the loss of his wife it became harder to provide proper education to his sons. Can his golden child Tank prove his worth to this demanding dad? Is he really ready to make a commitment to the new Specter heiress for the sake of the family?

SMITH = PLEASANT

Jenny always knew that there will be difficulties with cross-cultural relationships, but between juggling family and career problems, her way too secretive husband is just too much to keep track of. What is he hiding? Will Johnny be able to fit in and reconcile with his little sister? SPECTER = GOTH

When the head of Specter Industries was about to retire and pass the business to her son, he disappeared without a trace. Is there a possibility that this is the doing of someone with eyes set on her fortune? Can Olive really entrust the inheritance to her niece Ophelia?

CURIOUS = BROKE

Economy is tough and passion for science is expensive, so the Curious brothers have to share the living space to get by. After the birth of Tycho things have become especially challenging. While Lazlo is invested in dubious hacking activity, and with Vidcund eager to fund another one of his “secret science projects”, can Pascal cope with his new role as a cosmic parent? And what about the rumor that the Specter heir was last seen scaling the deck of their house?

SINGLES = CALIENTE

Lola and Chloe arrived to Pleasantown to reconnect with their roots, or so they claim. Have they really been missing the fatherly affection, or do they have ulterior, fiscal motives?

LOSTE = LOTHARIO

Kristen doesn’t particularly care for Pleasantown, but she has to admit that people here are quite the attraction. She is committed to her dream of becoming a world famous sports champion. Is her commitment to Erin Beaker just as genuine?

BEAKER = BURB

After graduating from college, Erin moved in with her brother and his wife while she’s trying to adjust to adult life. While Loki is being hospitable, Circe is growing tired of tarot readings and psychic seances. Can Erin’s newfound love help out before Circe turns her into a makeup testing animal?

💬 i hope there is enough drama to make this work hahaha i'm also planning to post a couple of other characters and notable townies swapped separately

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edenesth · 8 months ago

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TWTHH Spinoff: Love to Hate You [2]

Pairing: royal secretary!San x female scholar!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 10.7k 🤡

Summary: San prided himself on his knack for building easy connections with women, viewing himself as a trusted ally for the opposite gender. Thanks to his deep bonds with his mother and sister, he possessed keen insights into the female mindset. Never did he imagine facing the ire of a woman, until he encountered a resolute female scholar with a strong dislike towards men.

A/N: I'd recommend listening to Laufey's Valentine while reading this, the song is quite perfect for this spinoff.

Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist

"Now, tell me, why were you crying?" you inquired, halting at the doorway of your house, careful to shield your mother from the conversation. You understood that she would only blame herself if she knew he was upset, despite none of it being her fault. Deep down, you knew she carried the burden of not being able to protect her children, always feeling like an inadequate mother.

Siwoo shook his head, "It's nothing, noona. I just... I was just overwhelmed with all the schoolwork on my first day. But don't worry about me, I feel much better after letting it all out," he reassured, attempting to alleviate your concerns. Yet, you couldn't fully accept his explanation. While a part of you ached to think he might have been bullied by his classmates, as you had feared, another part of you swelled with pride at his resilience.

That's my boy.

"Is that so? Well, come on then, dinner might be ready," you responded, and he brightened at the mention of food. "Dinner sounds good, I'm starving! Mother, we're home!" he called out excitedly, darting into your modest abode almost immediately.

"How was school, Siwoo?" your mother asked, her fingers smoothing down his unruly hair as he dug into his meal with gusto. Siwoo grinned and nodded. "It was okay! Master Lee looked after me really well, just like noona said he would!" Your mother smiled warmly and wiped a stray bit of food from his cheek. "That's good to hear."

You couldn't help but smile at their exchange, though you sensed Siwoo's words were meant to reassure your mother more than convey his true feelings. While Master Lee might have looked after him in their presence, you knew all too well the dynamics of school life and the possibility of bullying when no adults were around. Unfortunately, he would have to learn to navigate those challenges, just as you had.

Finishing your meal, you tousled your brother's hair. "So, what did that man from earlier say to you?" Your mother raised a curious eyebrow. "Man? What man?" Siwoo perked up. "Oh, that kind hyung-nim! He was just making sure I was okay."

You scoffed. "Kind? You don't even know him. People can seem nice but have hidden motives. Don't trust too easily, or he might want something from you." Turning to your mother, you elaborated, "It's His Majesty's royal secretary. We had an unpleasant encounter at the palace. I had hoped never to see him again, but somehow he was at Siwoo's school when I went to pick him up. How many coincidences can there be? I'm certain he's up to something. So, you," you directed a stern look at your brother. "Don't entertain him if he shows up again, okay?"

Siwoo nodded reluctantly, his expression turning sullen. Your mother shook her head. "Or perhaps he's genuinely nice...? He's an important figure, after all. You shouldn't make an enemy out of him, dear. I worry for you." You offered her a reassuring smile. "I'll handle it, mother. Don't worry about me."

Later that night, as you lay in bed, the soft breathing of your brother beside you with a comforting rhythm, you couldn't help but feel a pang of bittersweet emotion. Siwoo, once the tiny bundle you cradled in your arms, had grown so quickly before your eyes. Memories of his infancy flooded your mind, the moments when you'd rocked him to sleep and comforted his tears.

Now, here he was, trying to shield his own emotions from you, not wanting to burden you with his struggles. Your heart swelled with both pride and a tinge of sadness as you gently stroked his head, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his forehead. How you wished he could remain your precious little brother forever, sheltered from life's harsh realities.

Yet, another part of you longed for him to mature, to become the pillar of strength this family needed. You yearned for the day when he would stand beside you as a protector, capable of shouldering the burdens that weighed heavily on your shoulders.

"Sweet dreams, little one," you whispered softly, your voice barely a whisper in the darkness. With a sigh, you closed your eyes, letting the tranquillity of the night envelop you as you drifted into slumber, your dreams filled with hopes for the future.

The next day unfolded much like the one before, with the familiar routine of dropping Siwoo off at school. Kneeling beside him, you tenderly adjusted his hanbok and smoothed down his hair, your actions a comforting ritual between siblings.

"Well, I have no new advice for you today, except to stay strong and not let the words of others affect you. Remember, they're just words, and you can choose not to let them bother you," you imparted, noticing the flicker of surprise in his eyes, as if he had been caught keeping secrets from you. With a warm smile, you gently pinched his cheeks to alleviate any worries he might have.

"Now, go on and get in there. And no causing trouble!" you teased, prompting a playful protest from Siwoo as he swatted your hands away and stuck out his tongue. "Bye, noona! See you later!" he called out cheerfully as he headed off to join his classmates.

As you watched him go, a soft smile lingered on your lips, filled with both pride and a touch of wistfulness.

He'll be fine; we've been over this.

You proceeded towards your educational institution to resume your own studies, putting aside worries about your brother for the moment. As you arrived at the entrance, you took a deep breath to ready yourself before entering, clutching your books tightly to your chest.

"Well, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence. Miss Smarty Pants finally showed up. Heard she even resorted to borrowing books from the royal library," Namgil, the scholar with the wealthiest father and your longtime tormentor, remarked as he annoyingly strolled alongside you, trailed by his group of cronies. One of them chimed in with a smirk, "Poor thing can't even afford her own books. Maybe if she catches the eye of some high-ranking officials in the palace, she won't need to study so hard at all."

Maintaining a neutral expression, you continued walking towards the foyer, where you could begin your studies undisturbed with the presence of teachers. Despite the taunting remarks being a regular occurrence during your journey from the outside to the inside of the institution, you had grown accustomed to them.

Reaching the foyer, you pivoted to face the group with a wide, sarcastic grin. "Well, boys, have you had your fill? If we're done wasting precious time trying to bring others down to boost our own fragile egos, maybe we should focus on our studies. After all, if we want to avoid squandering dear old daddy's money, we'll need to graduate. Time's ticking, gentlemen. Are we going to remain stuck in this childish behaviour forever?"

The satisfaction was palpable as you flashed a victorious smile and turned to stride into the foyer, leaving them no room for a rebuttal as a teacher emerged to greet the group. They hastily composed themselves, offering respectful bows and pretending as though nothing had happened.

Fools, you thought to yourself. This was precisely why you harboured such disdain for men. They were simplistic creatures, falling into one of two categories. The first, like Namgil and his cronies, were openly mean-spirited, condescending, and misogynistic. The second, exemplified by Royal Secretary Choi, was the cunning, duplicitous types who sought to earn your trust through false kindness before exploiting you. In the end, they were all cut from the same cloth.

At the end of the session, following a quiz intended to assess everyone's preparedness for the final examination, you unsurprisingly emerged as the top scorer once again. The teacher's announcement was met with the usual mixture of reactions, but your attention was drawn to his subsequent remarks.

"Miss Moon, once again, you've secured the top spot. Namgil, while second place may seem like an achievement, you should feel nothing but shame. All of you should. It's unacceptable to be outperformed by a woman. Study harder; I expect to see a different outcome in the next quiz."

You shook your head in disbelief at the teacher's words, seething inwardly at his ingrained bias. The implication that a woman should not surpass men in intellect spoke volumes about his archaic mentality. You were tired of being spoken about as if you weren't in the room, tired of the inherent sexism that permeated every aspect of your academic life. Graduation couldn't come soon enough; you were determined to prove these narrow-minded individuals wrong.

I'll show you morons.

"Oh boy, I know that look," Haneul remarked, shaking her head with a disapproving sigh as San emerged from his room the next day. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, his usual enthusiasm and determination shone through. She suspected her discouraging words from the previous evening had backfired, knowing her brother was just an optimistic idiot like that.

He scoffed, "What do you know? Go home already, noona. Your husband might start to worry if you keep visiting so often."

With a smirk, she lightly whacked him on the head. "I'm leaving today, don't you worry. But don't say I didn't warn you when whatever silly plan you might have ends up falling through. You men just love learning things the hard way, don't you? Let her be, Sannie."

"Yeah, yeah. Safe travels. I'll catch you later."

Haneul rolled her eyes in defeat. "Fine, fine. Send me away like I'm a nuisance. You should learn something from little Siwoo."

Turning back with a sarcastic grin, the royal secretary teased, "If you say so... love you, noona!" and blew her exaggerated kisses, earning a mockingly disgusted reaction. "Yuck! Save that for your future wife, gross!" she exclaimed, pretending to gag.

San strode through the palace corridors with newfound determination, his mind buzzing with plans and possibilities. He greeted the palace staff with a bright smile and a confident demeanour, earning curious glances from those he passed.

As he approached the royal study, he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. Today was the day he would begin executing his plan, the day he would show Scholar Moon that he was different from the rest, that he was sincere in his intentions.

Entering the king's presence, San found himself greeted with the warm smile of His Majesty. The elderly man's eyes twinkled with amusement as he observed his secretary's energy.

"You seem quite cheerful today, Royal Secretary Choi. Anything exciting happening in your life?" the king inquired with a chuckle as their daily meeting concluded.

San's grin widened, his heart racing with anticipation. "I suppose so, Your Majesty. I won't say more until I see positive results," he replied cryptically, unknowingly leaving the king to interpret his words as he wished. Little did the fool know, his vague response led His Majesty to believe he was referring to romantic pursuits.

The king's face lit up. "Oh, I can't wait to hear the good news. Best of luck, my boy. That's all for today. Carry on with your tasks," he said with a playful wink, dismissing San with a clap of his hands.

Secretary Choi bowed deeply, feeling grateful. "Thank you, Your Majesty!" he exclaimed before leaving the royal study, his mind already buzzing with plans to win over the female scholar.

He made his way through the library, exchanging nods with a few scholars absorbed in their studies. As he searched the aisles, hope waned with each passing moment. Nearly ready to give up, he reluctantly admitted to himself that you might not be there today. With a resigned sigh, he turned to leave.

But as he moved to exit, a flash of movement caught his eye. Turning back, he was stunned to see you tucked away in a quiet corner, fast asleep amidst a pile of borrowed books. A wave of tenderness washed over him at the sight of your peaceful form, and he approached you with silent steps, not wanting to disturb your rest.

He couldn't resist the urge to approach and observe you, struck by how serene and angelic you appeared in your slumber, a stark contrast to your usual tough and guarded demeanour. Seeing the sunlight streaming in from the nearby window and casting a glare on your face, he settled into the seat opposite you. With a gentle touch, he lifted his hand to shield you from the brightness, intent on preserving your peaceful rest.

Looking down at you like this, perhaps it was his innate sense of chivalry, but it stirred an intense urge to protect you, to help shoulder some of the burdens you must be carrying on those delicate shoulders of yours. He couldn't shake the feeling of admiration mingled with empathy as he watched you, lost in tranquil slumber amidst the chaos of the world around you. With a soft sigh, he longed to offer you more than just protection from the sun's glare, yearning to provide solace and support in any way possible.

As he watched you stir, letting out a small groan before readjusting your head and settling back into sleep, he felt a slight panic. However, his worry melted away when he realised you were merely shifting in your slumber. A soft sigh escaped him, accompanied by a gentle smile and a flutter in his heart at how endearing you looked.

Gosh, she looks adorable.

Resting his head on his palm, he continued to observe, noting the subtle signs of exhaustion etched across your beautiful face. Unlike other girls or women who likely had access to luxurious skincare products or ample rest to maintain their beauty, it was evident that any resources you had were dedicated to supporting your family and pursuing your studies. His gaze drifted to your hands, noticing the dry skin, blunt nails and paper cuts, evidence of both physical labour and tireless studying.

Gazing at you, his mind wandered to the challenges and hardships you must have faced throughout your childhood, shaping you into the resilient and guarded person you are today. He pondered on the beliefs you held about men, likely influenced by your past experiences. Working in the palace, San was all too familiar with the despicable behaviour of some men, having witnessed their deceit and manipulation firsthand. He understood, perhaps more than most, your strong aversion and distrust of men.

Yet, in his heart, he believed that you hadn't met men like him and his friends—men of integrity and genuine kindness. Determined to prove to you that good men existed, he resolved to show you through his actions. He was determined to be the exception, to demonstrate that not all men were as duplicitous as those you had encountered before. And in that moment, as he watched over you, he silently vowed to be the beacon of goodness and sincerity that you deserved.

Lost in his contemplations, he was jolted back to reality when he felt your hand push his away. Startled, he blinked, realising that the sun he had been shielding you from was now obscured by clouds. Your voice, sharp and incredulous, pierced through his thoughts.

"What in the world do you think you're doing, Royal Secretary Choi?" you demanded, your tone laced with annoyance and curiosity.

Flustered and caught off guard by your abrupt interruption, San quickly cleared his throat and straightened in his seat, feeling the weight of your scrutiny upon him. He could only imagine how his actions must have appeared from your perspective: waking up to find an uninvited man seated across from you, hand raised in an attempt to shield you from the absent sun.

"I-I can explain," he stammered, scrambling to find the right words to justify his actions. "I was just trying to—"

But before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off with a sarcastic smile, your words dripping with disdain.

"Let me guess," you said, your tone biting. "You just wanted to help? I thought I made myself very clear yesterday, but it seems I might not have. In case you missed the point, I'll repeat it again: I don't need your help. Thank you very much."

With that, you gathered all the books in your arms and swiftly exited, leaving him feeling chastised and uncertain of how to proceed.

As he sat frozen in his seat, watching your retreating figure, the royal secretary couldn't help but admire your firm resolve. Instead of feeling discouraged by your rejection, he found himself respecting you even more for it. Your unwavering stance showed him that you weren't one to let someone into your life easily, and in a world where men could be deceitful and manipulative, that was a reassuring trait. He couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for you, even as he remained seated in the library, contemplating his next move.

Making your way out of the palace, your heart still raced from the encounter in the library as you clutched the stack of borrowed books close to your chest. Unbeknownst to Secretary Choi, you had been awake for some time, waiting to see what he would do, ready to catch him red-handed if he attempted anything untoward.

To your unpleasant surprise, you found that the glaring sun that had once been on your face was gone. Peeking through your lashes, you observed San going to great lengths to shield you from the brightness, even though he must have assumed you were still asleep. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes about his character.

Even with his apparent kindness, you couldn't bring yourself to believe that he had done it without any ulterior motives. There had to be something he wanted from you; you were sure of it. You refused to let your guard down, you remained determined to stay wary of his intentions.

Despite your hopes that San would quit his efforts after the incident in the library, he proved to be annoyingly persistent. However, to your surprise, he no longer offered unsolicited help, seemingly aware that you had not asked for it. Instead, he chose a different approach to get closer to you.

Every day as you entered the palace, he greeted you with a bright smile and a friendly "good morning." You found his amiable demeanour irritating because it made it challenging for you to be rude to him when he was simply being a nice and sociable person. With no choice but to reciprocate his greetings, you returned them with a forced smile of your own, not wanting to appear impolite in front of other palace staff.

Today was no different, much to your dismay. Despite your multiple attempts to arrive either earlier or later than your usual time, he always seemed to be there. Deep down, you wanted to bluntly ask him if he had nothing better to do. Shouldn't a royal secretary be busy? Why was he always lingering around?

Approaching the entrance and spotting him, you couldn't help but slap a hand on your forehead in frustration. You tried to turn away, but he called out to you before you could make your escape.

"Scholar Moon! I see you're here early today. Good morning!" he exclaimed cheerfully.

You cursed under your breath and reluctantly turned back to feign a smile, bowing respectfully. "Indeed, I am... Good morning, Royal Secretary Choi," you replied through gritted teeth.

He beamed at you and gestured for you to join him. "Come, let us head in together!"

Letting out a sigh of disbelief, you put on your best fake smile and complied, knowing it wouldn't be in your best interest to be rude to someone of such high importance in front of other people. Damn it, you couldn't wait for the day to be over already.

Walking beside him, you sought a moment of tranquillity, but as expected, he initiated an unwanted conversation like always.

"How's Siwoo adjusting to school?" he asked, his tone overly chipper.

Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you briefly squeezed them shut before replying, "He's doing well. Thank you for asking."

His smile widened at your response. "That's great! I just hope he's feeling better than the last time I saw him. Poor boy was so upset."

You sighed, cutting him off before he could continue. "Yes, but he'll live—"

Before you could finish, a group of rushing court ladies surged around the corner. "Out of the way! Concubine Eom Heebin is giving birth!" Amidst the commotion, you were shoved aside, but a firm pair of arms caught you, guiding you to safety—San's arms.

You landed against his chest with a huff, and he peered down at you with wide eyes. "Careful there, watch your step! You alright?" His words lacked their usual formality, driven purely by instinct.

San gulped audibly, his gaze lingering on your features as if trying to memorise every detail. He marvelled at how beautiful you looked up close, relishing the sensation of holding you tightly against him. It felt strangely satisfying to shield you from danger, to have you vulnerable in his arms. There was an inexplicable desire within him to be the only one who knew how it felt to hold you like this.

Meanwhile, you felt a conflicting array of emotions swirling within you as you found yourself in his embrace. Despite your best efforts to maintain your dislike for him, you couldn't deny the unexpected sense of safety and comfort you felt in his arms. It unsettled you, this lack of disgust, and you hated how nice it felt, how it threatened to unravel the walls you had carefully constructed around your heart.

Realising your proximity, you blinked rapidly and pushed yourself away. "Y-yes, I'm fine. Thank you..." For once, you meant it.

Days passed, and you found yourself in a state of inner conflict whenever you were around him. Previously, you had to force yourself to maintain politeness and hide your disdain for him, but now, it was becoming increasingly difficult to be unpleasant.

You despised this newfound feeling of guilt he stirred within you, as if he was silently reproaching you for your past behaviour. Moreover, he continued to prove himself to be just as kind as everyone claimed, further complicating your emotions.

Hate brewed within you—not for the royal secretary as a person, but for the way he was challenging your beliefs about all men being alike. He made you start to doubt the certainties you once held dear, and you resented him for it. Most of all, you detested how he was making it difficult for you to maintain your animosity towards him.

Regardless of the swirling new emotions within you, one thing remained constant: your determination to avoid him at all costs. You were sick and tired of the conflicting feelings he stirred within you, and you knew that indulging in them would only serve as a distraction from your studies.

You needed to maintain your focus and drive, especially now when your responsibilities weighed heavily on your shoulders. The last thing you needed was to be sidetracked by unnecessary emotions brought about by a man, of all things.

But of course, life seemed determined to defy your efforts. Despite your best attempts to avoid him, it felt like he was everywhere you turned. With each passing day, you found yourself encountering him more frequently, almost as if he were purposely crossing your path.

The realisation was hard to swallow: you were seeing him more often than your own mother and younger brother combined. It was infuriating to admit, but no matter how hard you tried to evade him, he seemed to find a way to appear wherever you were.

As you finished up your studies and prepared to leave the palace, a sense of relief washed over you. Today had been the first in what felt like an eternity without a sighting of Royal Secretary Choi. Hope flickered in your heart as you packed up your belongings, eager to leave the palace behind and reunite with your little brother.

But just as you approached the main entrance, the sky darkened ominously. Thunder rumbled, and lightning streaked across the sky before a torrential downpour engulfed the area. "No, no, no, not now! Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" you muttered under your breath, feeling frustration bubbling up inside you.

With no umbrella to shield you from the rain, you hurried to seek refuge under the closest shelter you could find: the awning of a nearby building. The sudden change in weather dashed your hopes of a smooth departure, leaving you stranded and drenched.

The thought of Siwoo waiting for you added to your unease. You cursed your lack of preparation, knowing that he would now have to endure more time with his bullies. It was another setback in a day that had promised to be free of Choi San's presence.

Yep, I'm convinced god hates me.

While you sheltered under the awning, your gaze remained fixed on the entrance, torn between the desire to run out into the rain to your brother and the realisation that falling sick was not an option. Too many people depended on you—your mother, your brother, and all the women in need of your assistance. You couldn't afford to be unwell, not with so many responsibilities resting on your shoulders.

Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice a figure approaching from behind until the raindrops abruptly ceased falling around you. Looking up, you were met with the sight of an umbrella being held over your head. Startled, you turned to see San standing beside you, concern etched on his features.

"Are you alright, my lady? Please allow me to escort you to your destination," he said, his voice gentle and sincere.

The royal secretary's surprise was evident when he realised it was you, causing him to stumble over his words in an attempt to explain himself. "O-oh! It's you, Scholar Moon! I swear I didn't realise it was you, I thought you were a palace staff or someone else! I mean, I wasn't trying to offer help when you didn't want it, or maybe I was..."

He paused, then continued, "But I promise, I'm not making any assumptions! I can leave if you want me to... I'll leave the umbrella with you, of course, because obviously little Siwoo is waiting for you. Sorry, I don't mean to ramble... I just— here you go." Without waiting for your response, he thrust the umbrella into your hand and hurried off into the rain, leaving you standing frozen in bewilderment, trying to comprehend the unexpected encounter.

As you stood there, still holding the umbrella he had left behind, you couldn't shake off the words he had said. They lingered in your mind, his voice echoing gently, making you question your own feelings. For the first time, you understood why women might find him charming. Despite your resolve to dislike him, you couldn't deny his physical attractiveness and his gentlemanly nature.

But as you thought about it further, a new emotion crept in—an unsettling realisation that his kindness wasn't reserved for you alone. He would be just as sincere and helpful to anyone in need. Suddenly, a twinge of jealousy stirred within you. Why did it bother you that he treated others with kindness? Why did you feel upset that you weren't the only one receiving his attention? What was wrong with you?

Confusion clouded your thoughts as you grappled with these unfamiliar feelings. You couldn't understand why it mattered to you whether he was nice to everyone or not. But the fact that it did matter left you feeling even more bewildered. What were these emotions, and why the hell were they stirring within you now?

Lord, I must be out of my damn mind.

In the days that followed, your annoyance with San returned, but this time it was for a new reason—one you stubbornly refused to acknowledge. Despite your efforts to keep your distance and maintain your walls around him, you found it increasingly difficult to do so. His presence seemed to linger in your mind, his gentle demeanour and persistent kindness chipping away at your defences.

Meanwhile, the royal secretary remained hopeful after his recent encounters with you. He noticed the subtle changes in your behaviour—the once sarcastic smiles and curt words slowly giving way to genuine attempts to interact with him. He knew your pride was likely the barrier keeping you from fully opening up to him, but he was determined to break through it.

Perhaps it was the sense of accomplishment he felt, but he found himself increasingly consumed by thoughts of you and the challenge of breaking down your barriers to earn your trust. Each day, he eagerly anticipated going to work, knowing he might catch a glimpse of your beautiful face. Lately, he noticed it revealing more than just anger and disdain—it showed hints of other emotions too. He longed to witness them all, to be the first and perhaps the only one to see them. He felt a swell of pride, both in himself and in your progress, even if you were unaware of it.

"You like her, don't you?" San's gaze snapped up to meet his mother's, his chewing momentarily halted as he raised a questioning brow. "What are you talking about, eomma?"

She grinned, gesturing towards the additional lunch box he had instructed the servants to prepare for work that day. "Oh, you mean Scholar Moon? I mean, yeah, I guess I do...? I like everyone," he responded with a cheerful beam. However, her expression shifted to one of knowingness as she crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not what I mean, you silly boy. You have feelings for her, don't you?"

He choked on his food in surprise at her assertion. "Huh? Wh-what makes you say that? You know about my mission to prove her prejudice wrong, that's all there is to it. I don't feel any differently about her than I do about any other lady."

With a knowing smirk, the elderly woman caused him to wince. It was the same sarcastic expression his sister always wore before delivering a harsh truth. "Oh yes, because you make a point to greet every female palace staff member every morning, ask about all their family members, never stop talking about them, and ensure to pack extra lunch for them all just like you do for Scholar Moon, isn't that right?"

As his mother's words settled in, a sudden revelation struck San like a bolt of lightning. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that had been hidden from him until now. He couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had begun—perhaps it had lurked beneath the surface from the start, waiting for the right moment to surface.

He had been so preoccupied with proving to you that he was different, so focused on challenging your prejudices, that he hadn't stopped to consider his own feelings. What had started as a mission might have morphed into something more. The concern and care he felt for you went beyond mere kindness; it was a genuine desire to protect and support you.

Reflecting on the moments when you had occupied his thoughts—the incident in the library, the near-accident with the court ladies—he realised that his feelings ran deeper than he had admitted to himself. Even as he grappled with the conflict between wanting to take care of you and respecting your independence, he couldn't ignore the truth any longer. Choi San was a man with a lot of love to give, and he wasn't shy or ashamed to admit that he had developed feelings for you—feelings that transcended friendship or admiration. It was a realisation that both surprised and invigorated him, filling him with anticipation for what the future might hold.

But he wasn't stupid; he understood that acknowledging his feelings didn't equate to knowing yours or if you could ever reciprocate them. Despite this, he chose to find contentment in this understanding. He wouldn't expect anything from you in return. Your happiness would suffice to make him happy, even if it meant remaining mere acquaintances.

With this resolve, he bid his parents farewell before heading to work, his heart fluttering at the prospect of seeing you once more.

Later that afternoon, San strolled around the area where you often spent your lunch breaks. Spotting you in the secluded pavilion near the royal library, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. Instead of your usual packed lunch, you were nibbling on a meagre steamed bun. Approaching you with a grin, he greeted you.

"Good afternoon, Scholar Moon. I see you're having lunch as well," he greeted, and you nodded quickly, feeling self-conscious and embarrassed about your modest meal. Just as you were about to ask him what he wanted, he revealed the bag of lunchboxes he had been hiding behind his back.

"That's wonderful then. My family estate kitchen staff seemed to have made an extra set of lunch, and I was just wondering if maybe you would like to have it," he offered. You raised a sceptical eyebrow. "An extra set? That seems highly unlikely to happen."

He tried to maintain his composure despite being caught in a fib. "Fine. If you're not interested in it, I'm sure there are other palace staff who would enjoy it," he said, turning to leave. Panic surged within you as he started to walk away. "W-wait! I'll take it... please," you pleaded, reaching out to grasp his arm. With a satisfied nod, he settled down beside you.

That's what I thought.

As you opened the meticulously prepared lunchbox, a look of awe graced your features. The royal secretary chuckled at your adorable expression. He observed as you hesitated for a moment, glancing at him as if seeking approval before starting to eat. With a nod of encouragement, he joined in.

Little did you know, he had overheard some court ladies discussing the struggles faced by a female scholar, which could only be you, as you were the only one known. They recounted your struggles to afford essentials at home due to your brother's school fees and your own lack of income, all because of your dedication to your studies.

As you both began to eat, you didn't notice San biting his lip to hold back his laughter. Your eyes had widened and sparkled with innocent amazement at the flavours, a look he had never seen before. The sight made his heart flutter, confirming his feelings for you. He wanted to protect that innocence forever and be the only one to witness this endearing sight. He could easily picture spending time with you like this for life, and he knew he wouldn’t complain.

When you looked up and caught him staring, he quickly returned his gaze to his food. You blushed and checked your lips for any stray rice, wondering why he had been looking at you like that. Like a creep.

How annoying.

Relieved that there was nothing on your face, you continued eating. However, you furrowed your brows as you noticed the secretary picking at his food from the corner of your eye. Unable to contain your curiosity, you turned to see him pushing aside all the greens in his container. Raising an eyebrow, you asked, "Saving the best for last?"

He chortled, "Like hell I am."

Realising what was going on, you scoffed, "Seriously? The great Royal Secretary Choi doesn't eat his vegetables? Even my brother eats his. You should be ashamed of yourself."

He sputtered, clearly embarrassed, and you snickered at how flustered he appeared over your teasing. Glaring at you, he retorted, "Is that any way to talk to the kind samaritan who just treated you to lunch?"

You shrugged. "I'll treat anyone who doesn't eat their veggies the same way, with discrimination. If you won't eat them, give them here, you big baby."

He pouted, about to hand them over until you added, "Siwoo's going to be so disappointed when he hears about this. He looks up to you and thinks of you as his role model, you know." You gasped, realising you had revealed something you hadn't meant to share, but all your regret dissolved when you saw his reaction to your words.

San's jaw dropped, and he quickly snatched the greens back, stuffing his face with them. "There, I finished them. You happy now?!"

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. In moments like this, you wondered how wonderful it would be if all men were like him. You admired how his eyes crinkled as he joined in your laughter. He could be so annoyingly cute and likeable. Gosh, you hated it. You hated how warm he was making you feel, hated how good it felt.

As the two of you calmed down from your giggles, the smiles remained on your faces. You finished the last of your food, neatly wrapped the lunchbox back up in his bag, and handed it to him. "Thank you, Royal Secretary Choi," you said, your voice sincere.

His heart skipped a beat at your genuine gratitude. With a nod of acknowledgement, he reached out to take the bag from you. Both your breaths hitched when your fingertips brushed against each other. The unexpected contact sent a small, electric jolt through you both, causing you to momentarily lock eyes.

San's eyes softened, filled with an emotion you couldn't quite place. The world seemed to pause, and for a fleeting moment, the two of you were the only ones that existed. You could feel your pulse quickening, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin.

"You're welcome," he finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He took the bag, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary before pulling away.

You quickly looked down, trying to steady your racing heart. "I should get back to my studies," you said, standing up and smoothing out your clothes.

"Of course," he replied, standing up as well. "Take care, Scholar Moon."

With a final nod, you turned and walked away, feeling his gaze linger on your back. A small smile tugged at your lips as you wondered what it would be like if moments like these with him became a regular part of your life. You found your own thoughts baffling, as no man had ever made you feel such emotions before.

Could he possibly... be the only exception?

No, he could not.

You should have known better. Should have recognised the trouble he brought along despite his constant insistence on helping. Initially, you felt grateful for his frequent gestures, like bringing you lunch and accompanying you to pick up your brother from school during the rainy season, the three of you huddled under his umbrella—a sight that warmed your mother's heart.

For a while, it felt like being on Cloud 9. But in hindsight, you must have lost your mind to let him get so involved in your life. It seemed foolish to rely on him so much, to let him become so close to you and your family.

And inevitably, there were consequences.

You reached your breaking point when the bullying at your educational institution intensified. Rumours about you and the royal secretary spending time together spread like wildfire among your fellow scholars, leading to endless torment.

As you tried to leave the institution, hoping to find solace at home after enduring what felt like hours of torment, Namgil and his cronies blocked your path, their mocking laughter echoing around you like a cacophony of cruelty.

"Leaving so soon, Miss Smarty Pants? Off to see your beloved Royal Secretary Choi, I presume?" he jeered, his voice dripping with malice. "Who would've thought your success was all thanks to him? Must have made quite the deal to get him to treat you so well. Bet you're not so innocent anymore, huh?"

His words cut through you like knives, causing your steps to falter as you froze in place, the implications of his cruel insinuations hitting you like a ton of bricks. "Should've known," Namgil continued, his tone laced with venom. "All you women are good for is spreading your legs."

You felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, a burning rage rising up within you as you struggled to hold back tears. They had no idea what you had been through, the sacrifices you had made to get to where you were. But at that moment, all you could do was stand there, feeling utterly defenceless against their relentless cruelty.

Meanwhile, San couldn't shake off his growing concern for you. He hadn't caught sight of you all day, and his inquiries around the palace yielded no sightings of you either. The court ladies confirmed that you hadn't visited the palace at all, which only deepened his worry. You had never missed a day before, and the thought of you being sick or in trouble made his heart sink.

Leaving work that day, the extra lunch he had prepared for you still in his hands, he hurried over to your brother's school in hopes of finding you there. However, his heart sank further when he only found Siwoo waiting by the entrance as usual. The child's face lit up when he spotted the royal secretary.

"Hyung-nim! Did my noona send you here to pick me up today?" Siwoo asked eagerly. The royal secretary shook his head, his concern evident in his expression.

"No, Siwoo-yah. She hasn't been to the palace either. Do you know where her institution is?" San inquired. Your brother's expression turned worried, but he nodded.

"Yes, I do! Let's go find her!" Siwoo suggested, but San gently shook his head.

"No can do, you tell me where and I'll go. Your mother will worry if neither of you are home," San explained. The child reluctantly agreed, but not without making a request.

"Okay, but promise me you'll bring her back," Siwoo pleaded. The secretary gave him a reassuring smile and pinky promised him.

"Don't worry, I will."

As San approached your institution, relief washed over him when he spotted your familiar figure not too far from the main entrance. However, his relief quickly turned to concern when he noticed you weren't alone. Surrounding you were a group of male scholars, their expressions and body language indicating that the conversation was far from pleasant. His heart twisted uncomfortably at the sight of your wet eyes and defeated look. Were you being bullied?

With clenched fists, he stepped closer, his brows narrowing in anger as he overheard snippets of the conversation. It was clear that the group was making disparaging remarks about you. His blood boiled when he heard the leader of the gang suggesting that you had been selling your body in exchange for your success. How dare they?

These bastards.

While San understood that your previous encounters with men must have been unpleasant for you to harbour such a strong dislike for them, witnessing you being treated in such a manner was a first for him. It was no wonder you hated them so much; who could blame you? But he was here now, and he was determined to change that.

He stalked over, his towering and intimidating presence startling the scholars. "Are my ears deceiving me, or did I truly just hear such vile words coming from a scholar?" he demanded, his voice icy and authoritative. "Watch your words because rest assured, your headmaster will hear about this. Not only were you being misogynistic, but how dare you insinuate such despicable things about Scholar Moon? This woman has more integrity than all of you combined. She doesn't need any man's backing—not even mine—to get where she is today. She is fully capable of achieving that on her own, and I think you know that, given how your insecurity and jealousy are blatantly showing through your nasty actions."

The scholars' faces turned pale, their bravado evaporating in the face of the royal secretary's fury. He stepped closer, his fists clenched, ready to defend you from any further insults. The leader of the gang opened his mouth to retort but quickly thought better of it, swallowing his words and casting a nervous glance at his friends.

"L-let's go, guys," Namgil stuttered, bowing before scrambling away. They weren't stupid. This was His Majesty's royal secretary, and if he reported them to the king, they would face dire consequences. There was nothing to gain from angering him.

San turned his gaze to you, his eyes softening. "Are you okay?" he asked gently, his voice a stark contrast to the harsh tone he had just used.

Instead of a grateful nod like he had expected, you met him with a darkened expression. Taking deep breaths, you tried to hold back your tears and calm yourself down. When you remained silent, glaring at him, he sighed. "Was that too much? I—I'm sorry, I know you can defend yourself, but I just—"

You cut him off, speaking in a low voice, "This is all your fault, Choi San."

He froze, his heart clenching painfully at the last words he expected to hear from you. You continued, harshly wiping away stray tears with your sleeves, "If only you'd just leave me alone like I asked from the beginning… I've been bullied all my life, but the usual nonsense I could endure. Not once—never—had anyone ever implied something like that," you whispered the last part. "And it's all because of you. Haven't you done enough? If you truly want to help me, then please—god—please, just leave me alone."

With that, you walked out of the institution, leaving him reeling in shock and hurt at your words. This was not how he had imagined things would turn out.

San finally realised that maybe his sister had been right. If distancing himself would make you happier, he’d do it, even if it meant suffering from being away from you. From that day onwards, he would make sure to keep his distance, honouring your wish.

You went to your younger brother’s school that evening and were surprised to hear that he had already been picked up. Panicking, you rushed home and were relieved to see Siwoo safely at the entrance, waiting with your worried mother. He clung tightly to you as you stroked his hair.

"Who brought you home?" you asked softly.

He sniffled, "Sannie hyung-nim… he promised he’d bring you home, but he lied. You came home alone."

You sighed, holding the child closer as guilt slowly crept into your heart. "He didn’t lie, Siwoo-yah. He did come to me, but I was the one who left him."

Your mother watched you with concern, her eyes reflecting relief and confusion. She reached out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "What happened, dear?"

You hesitated, the weight of the day's events pressing down on you. "I— I just... he won't bother us again, mother. I made sure of that."

Siwoo looked up at you, his eyes wide with innocence and confusion. "But why, noona? He was so nice to us."

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you hugged your brother tighter. "It will protect us. It will make things easier."

You were aware that you were trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. But you would rather die than admit it. You were Scholar Moon, the first female scholar in Joseon, and you didn't need a man to survive. You never did, and you never would. Choi San was merely a hindrance, but he was now in the past. Things would finally return to normal. You would excel in your exams and fulfil your dreams. Everything would be fine.

Or would it really?

Days following that proved much harder than anticipated. The royal secretary had indeed left you alone, as you'd requested. While you should have been glad, a part of you felt irritated by his obedience. You resented that he hadn't fought harder, but you knew you had no one to blame but yourself. You felt difficult to deal with. Surely, a man as good as Choi San deserved someone better than you. He had gone above and beyond to help you for the past few months, yet all you gave him in return were harsh words you... likely didn't mean at all.

Wait, what even are these thoughts? None of that should matter; it's all in the past. You needed to focus on your studies.

With a massage of your temples, you attempted to reread the same sentence you had been struggling with for the past hour. However, endless thoughts of that stupid man kept resurfacing, haunting you and weighing heavy on your heart with an unpleasant feeling you wished would disappear. God, did you hate him. Why was he so annoying even when he wasn't around?

You hated how he consumed your thoughts.

Everywhere you turned in the palace, he lingered in your mind. Each time you picked up your brother, he intruded into your thoughts, and even passing by your educational institution's entrance reminded you of him. What was wrong with you? What had he done to you? You were fine before meeting him, and you would be fine now. You kept repeating this to yourself, but all resolve crumbled when you saw him approaching one morning in the palace. It was the first time seeing him since that day—the day you'd uttered those cruel words to him.

You froze, clutching your books tightly to your chest, bracing yourself for whatever words or actions he might deliver. However, your heart sank when he simply passed by with a respectful nod. Why did that sting so much? You had brought this upon yourself. The urge to chase after him was overwhelming, and you squeezed your eyes shut to suppress the longing.

Pull yourself together, this is for the best.

You didn't need him.

Or did you?

Why does it hurt so much?

The atmosphere between you and the royal secretary had shifted, turning awkward and strained. Everyone in the palace could sense the change, the tension that now defined your interactions—or rather, the lack thereof. The once easy camaraderie had vanished, replaced by uncomfortable silences and fleeting, cautious glances. It wasn't long before word reached Namgil, who seized the opportunity to make your life even more miserable. The bullying intensified, but you endured it all, determined to pass your final exam without incident.

Time flew by, even as you suffered.

You buried yourself in your studies, hoping to push him out of your mind. Every page you turned, every line you read, was an attempt to forget the way he made you feel. The palace corridors, once filled with the warmth of his ever-comforting presence, now echoed with your lonely footsteps and the quiet rustle of your books.

Days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, your final examination was approaching. The weight of the upcoming test pressed down on you, but it was a welcome distraction from the pain in your heart. You could still see him in the palace, still catch glimpses of his familiar figure in the distance, but the gap between you felt insurmountable.

On the eve of your exam, you found yourself in the palace library, surrounded by stacks of books and scrolls. The dim light of the lantern cast long shadows across the room, mirroring the shadows in your heart. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

Then, without warning, the door creaked open, and there he was. San, standing in the doorway, looking just as conflicted as you felt. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

"Scholar Moon," he finally said, his voice low and hesitant. "I heard your final exam is tomorrow. I wanted to wish you luck."

You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "Thank you, Royal Secretary Choi."

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I know you asked me to leave you alone, but I just want you to know that I believe in you. You are more than capable of achieving your dreams."

Tears threatened to well up in your eyes, but you blinked them away. "I appreciate that," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, it seemed like he might say more, but then he simply nodded and turned to leave. As the door closed behind him, you felt a pang of regret. You had to fight everything in you to resist running after him, holding onto him, telling him how much you regretted everything, how wrong you had been, how much you… missed him.

No, stop it.

You took a deep breath and returned to your books, knowing that tomorrow's exam was the key to your future. You had to stay focused. You had to succeed, even if it meant pushing aside the feelings you couldn't quite shake.

The next morning, your mother smoothed your robes as you prepared to leave for the palace where the final examination would take place. Her hands were gentle, but the pride in her eyes was unmistakable.

"This is it," she whispered, a soft smile on her face. "All your hard work will pay off today. You will finally be someone in this land. The first female scholar-official in Joseon."

You nodded, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. Today was the day you had worked so tirelessly for. Today, you would prove yourself.

"You look beautiful, noona!" Siwoo cheered, his excitement contagious.

You smiled down at your little brother, ruffling his hair. "Thank you, Siwoo-yah. I'll make you proud."

As you stepped outside, the morning sun casting a golden hue over the palace grounds, you felt a surge of determination. You wouldn't have time to think about a certain annoying man who had been invading your thoughts more than you cared to admit. You wouldn't let the memory of Choi San torment you more than Namgil and his friends ever could.

With each step towards the examination hall, you reminded yourself of your goals. You were Scholar Moon, the first female scholar in Joseon. You were about to make history.

As you entered the courtyard, the confident bounce in your step reflected the culmination of years of hard work and determination. You were oblivious to the devious grins Namgil and a few other scholars exchanged as their gazes followed your figure.

"There she is," Namgil sneered, nodding toward the bridge above the large pond that everyone would later cross to reach the examination hall. A wicked idea formed in his mind. "Remind me, boys. It would be impossible for someone with drenched clothes to participate in the final examination, is that correct?"

They snickered, immediately understanding his implication. "Yes, I think that is right."

You moved through the crowd, nodding to a few familiar faces, your mind already focused on the examination ahead. You had no idea that behind you, Namgil and his cronies were plotting to ruin everything you had worked all your life for.

As the time approached for the scholars to cross the bridge and enter the hall, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the challenge ahead. This was your moment, and nothing would stand in your way.

Or so you thought.

As you stepped onto the bridge, Namgil and his cronies moved into position. With a quick, coordinated push, you were sent plummeting into the pond below. The cold water enveloped you, and panic set in immediately. You flailed, trying to keep your head above water, but it was futile. "H-help! Please!"

Laughter erupted from above. Namgil and his friends stood at the edge of the bridge, their mocking laughter ringing in your ears.

"Oops! Looks like Scholar Moon won't be making history today," Namgil taunted, his voice dripping with malice.

"I... c-can't swim..."

Everyone froze, the courtyard falling silent as your bully's laughter ceased. The realisation hit them like a ton of bricks: the pond was much deeper than they had anticipated, and you couldn't swim. Your desperate cries for help echoed in the sudden stillness, turning their malicious prank into a potential tragedy.

Panic spread among the scholars as they realised what they had done. What began as sabotage could now be seen as attempted murder, and their futures hung in the balance. Namgil's face drained of colour as he watched you struggle, knowing full well the consequences of their actions.

Fortunately for you, and unfortunately for them, San happened to be dropping by to observe the examination. His heart plummeted at the sight before him. Without a second thought, he pushed through the panicked crowd of useless men and plunged into the pond, desperate to save you.

His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you up from the depths. He swam with determined strokes, bringing you to the safety of the pond's edge. As he hoisted you onto solid ground, he checked for signs of life, his own breath coming in ragged gasps from the effort and fear.

You coughed and sputtered, expelling water from your lungs as you gasped for air. San's relieved expression melted into one of fierce protectiveness and anger. He turned to face the group of terrified scholars, his eyes blazing with fury.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, his voice a low growl. "Do you have any idea what you almost did?"

Namgil and his friends could only stammer incoherent excuses, their earlier bravado replaced by sheer terror. The royal secretary's intervention had saved you, but it had also sealed their fate.

A few examiners rushed out just in time to witness the chaos, their expressions darkening at the sight of the guilty, terrified faces of Namgil and his cronies. Realising the gravity of their actions, the bullies pleaded for mercy as they were escorted away to face the consequences.

The royal secretary turned toward you, gently brushing aside the damp strands of hair that clung to your face, his touch tender. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his concern evident in his expression.

Your lips quivered at the tenderness in his voice and the worry etched on his face. He was the first and only man to care so deeply for you, and you couldn't fathom how you had repeatedly pushed him away. But now, tired of denying your feelings, you couldn't hold back the tears that welled up in your eyes. With a broken sob, you shook your head. "No… I'm not," you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder.

He hesitated for a moment, startled by your sudden embrace, before returning it, enveloping you in his arms. "What's wrong? Tell me," he murmured, his voice laced with concern.

You sobbed harder, weakly hitting him. "It's you… y-you're so annoying, you know that? I hate it so much… hate that I love you."

He pulled back, wide-eyed, holding your shoulders at arm's length as he gazed into your tear-filled eyes. "Wh-what did you say…? This isn't a dream, is it?"

Through your tears, you chuckled at his reaction. "I finally muster the courage to confess to you, and that's your response?"

His smile broke through, the one you adored so much, the one where his eyes disappeared into slits, bringing warmth and comfort no matter how hard things got. Pulling you back into his arms, he stroked the back of your head. "I love you too..."

"How's your first day as a Scholar-Official, Moon?" inquired the royal secretary as you grinned at him. "It's going well, Royal Secretary Choi. Thank you for asking."

After he assisted you in petitioning His Majesty for another chance at your final examination, arguing that you were merely a victim of foul play, you were granted the opportunity. As anticipated, you passed with flying colours, ranking at the top of the batch. Finally, you held the prestigious title of scholar-official.

However, that wasn't the only change in your life. Choi San openly courted you, much to the king's approval, solidifying your status as a formidable power couple.

Leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead, he smiled, "I'll see you after work."

You blushed and gently pushed him away. "Not here, please. But yes, I'll see you later."

As you left the palace after your day's work, you spotted a familiar face. Smiling, you greeted her, but your steps faltered when she bowed respectfully.

"Hi there. I remember you," you said, trying to recall where you had met her before.

She grinned knowingly. "Yes, it's good to see you again, Scholar-Official Moon. I suppose you believe my words about the royal secretary now, don't you? After all, you and he are the talk of the palace."

Your cheeks flushed, recalling that she had been the court lady to disclose San's identity during your initial encounter. You nodded awkwardly, trying to recover from your embarrassment.

She chuckled softly. "Well then, don't let me keep you. Royal Secretary Choi is waiting for you by the entrance."

Your heart soared at the sight of San standing by the entrance, just as the court lady had claimed. He was waiting for you, and the realisation filled you with an indescribable warmth. This wasn't just any man; this was your man. Yours alone. The sight of him, tall, handsome, kind, and caring, reaffirmed your feelings.

Without a second thought, you ran over, calling out, "Sannie!" He turned towards you, his face lighting up with that beam that never failed to make your heart race. His arms opened wide, and you leapt into them, feeling a rush of joy at being in his embrace.

"I missed you, honey," he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

You pressed your lips against his, relishing the moment as his response came swiftly, his kiss soft and reassuring. Pulling back slightly, a smile played on your lips, your heart dancing with joy. "I missed you too, my big baby," you teased.

"Come on, remember you wanted to learn more about my past?" you said, chuckling at the pout on his face as you pulled away.

He nodded eagerly, and you took his hand, leading him towards a place you hadn't visited in a long time.

"So, this was the root of your hatred for men…" he murmured, his gaze fixed on your father's grave as you stood beside him. You had just finished recounting everything that had transpired, from the beginning of your existence to the hardships you endured to reach where you are today.

"Yes, but you showed me that not all men are the same," you replied softly, your voice tinged with gratitude.

He gently squeezed your hands, turning to face you with a serious expression. "And I won't stop showing you. I promise I'll be different from your father and every other man you've encountered. I'll protect you and your family as if they were my own. I'll strive to be the best husband to you and father to our future child. You'll never have to suffer alone again. I'm here for you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

You chuckled softly through your tears, nodding in response. "That's amusing… I don't recall agreeing to be your wife just yet. What are you talking about, Choi San?"

He let out a playful whine, "Hey! You—wait... you said 'yet' though, so that means... you will eventually, right?" he asked hopefully.

Teasingly, you stuck your tongue out at him before turning and running away. But deep down, you knew that no matter how far you went, he would always be there to catch you.

Of course, you idiot.

Holy crap, I was gone for like 2 weeks and I return to 1.85k+ followers?! ASDFGHJKL thank you all so much😭

Anyway, I hope this was decent, y'all... I swear, I didn't plan for this part to be so freaking long HAHA but I just felt like it would take quite a bit for her hatred to turn into love hehe I hope the ending didn't feel rushed or anything :3

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! ❤️

Tag list (1/9):

@itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr |

@cheolliehugs @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline |

@green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive |

@vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho |

@vic0921 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid |

@sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @myblovedjyh @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings |

@chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories |

@anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @dollce-exe @jan-l |

@lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim |

@scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa |

@ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143 |

@naps-over-degree @brown88 @sis-101 @lemon-sage17 @jcalicocatj

#edenesth #the way to this heart #love to hate you #twthh spinoff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #choi san #ateez san #historical au #joseon era #choi san x reader #choi san x you #ateez fic

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hisonlykiwi · 7 months ago

Text

"With that kind of power at your disposal, the possibilities are endless."

synopsis: azriel, who's never bothered to acknowledge your existence seeks you out for help.

wc: 1.3k

warnings: mentions of gore memories and trauma.

a/n: hey guys, i'm thinking of making this a small series with multiple parts. please let me know what you think <3

part two

____________________________________________

I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration, looking over the report Rhysand had given me a few days back. I look at the clock ticking away on the wall beside me; It’s been exactly 5 hours and 27 minutes since I came down to the library. 5 hours and 27 minutes of studying the reports of the numerous attacks on Velaris and I’ve got no lead or clear motive.

I let out a sigh, shifting my gaze over to the shelves around me brimming with books that are probably older than me. I wonder how Rhysand keeps such good care of this place, it’s truly a sight for sore eyes. Since a child, I’ve loved nothing more than hiding away in the library and stuffing my face with any book I could- I freeze.

The air around me shifting slightly. I felt a shudder dance down my spine, the air thick and heavy. I move my hand down to my thigh where I keep my dagger. I feel something, no, I feel someone’s eyes watching me. My eyes fix on a darkened corner of the library, instantly seeing a familiar figure. Our gazes instantly lock, and I stir slightly in my seat. An uneasy feeling pooling in my stomach, how long had Azriel been standing there, watching me? I didn’t dare break eye contact until I gasped at the feeling of a cool breeze on my ankle, I looked down to see a tendril of black smoke, very similar to the ones I’ve seen around Azriel. It must’ve felt me staring at it because it hurried back to the unlit corner where Azriel stood.

I awkwardly clear my throat and release the tight grip I had on the dagger, “Can I ask why you’re lurking in the shadows and watching me?” I say to him, monitoring his every movement. I felt odd asking him a question seeing as we’ve never talked before. I see him all the time but always at a distance, he never talks and always has a stoic expression. The only thing I know of him is he is the spymaster shadowsinger who has been Rhysand’s best friend since childhood and just so happens to be, one of the most powerful Illyrians in Prythian history.

“Just gathering information.” He says, stepping out of the corner, the soft light accentuating his strong features. I tracked his every movement; It was no secret that Azriel was devastatingly handsome. I felt a nervous pang in my chest watching him approach me. “You’re quite fascinating to observe.” He continued, I raised an eyebrow at his statement, “And what exactly is fascinating?” I could feel his eyes scan over my figure, "Your movements, your expression, your presence... It's all quite intriguing." He said in a low deep voice.

I felt a small heat rise to my cheeks, I ran a hand through my hair, unsure of what to do or say. Oddly enough, I felt anxious, but I refuse to let it show. “Is there something I can help you with?” I ask him in a stern voice. I’m confused as to why he is speaking to me in the first place. I watch him take a sit on the chair in front of me, suddenly this table felt quite small.

He watches me, gaze still piercing. "Help me? Well... There is one thing I was curious about..." He said in a suggestive tone. I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest, “About?” I stared back at him. I watched as he mirrored my position, also crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back.

There was curiosity etched in his features, “Two words; reality altering.” I made no movement; the air so tense I could slice it with my dagger. I only stared back at him, expressionless. There is no possible way he knows about my powers, the only two people who know are Rhysand and Amarantha, who’s head I personally saw get impaled to a wall, so safe to say it wasn’t her. And Rhysand wouldn’t be careless enough to give away this vital information, even if the man in front of me was his best friend. “Yeah, I’ve read about it.” I say to him, trying to sound bored.

My comment caused for a smirk to break out on his beautiful face, “A little mouse told me you have a powerful gift. A gift so powerful that people would go to war over it.” I chuckled, “Is that so? When you find that powerful gift, please let me know, I would love to have such power.” I finished with a smile. Azriel's expression remained unflinching as he kept his eyes locked with mine, his intense gaze not wavering. “Is that what you told Bodhi before you made him brutally murder his entire family?” I felt my breath hitch in my throat, I shut my eyes, memories of Bodhi’s face and his family’s mutilated bodies flooded my mind. The painful memories serving as a reminder of why I will never know peace nor deserve peace. It’s haunted me every single night, their horrific screams replaying over and over in my nightmares.

"Ah, so now it's confirmed." He said, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "I knew there was something special about you.” I deeply sigh, trying to push away the thoughts of what Amarantha forced me to do nearly 50 years ago to the back of my mind, like always I’m rendered unsuccessful. I open my eyes to meet his golden eyes once again. “What’s it to you, Azriel?” I spit out at him, his name tasting like venom in my mouth. He leaned over the table, his voice dropping dangerously low. "With that kind of power at your disposal, the possibilities are endless... You could control armies, change the course of history... Or you could use it for more hedonistic pursuits."

Now it’s my turn to mirror his movements, I put my elbows on the table and lean over the table, our faces less than a foot apart. “So, I ask again, what’s it to you?” He replied, his voice low and cold, "It's simple, really. I want to know exactly what that power of yours can do." After a few moments, “No.” I plainly say, I tear my gaze from his and start collecting the report from the table so I can make my way out. "Running away already, are you?", his deep voice said, carrying authority. I ignore him and continue to get my bag, when I felt his hand on my wrist, stopping me from standing up.

“I need your help.” I pause and look back at him, a pleading look on his face. “Why? You’ve never spoken to me, let alone acknowledged my existence. Then you barge in here, provoking me and suddenly you want my help? I have to laugh.” I pull my wrist away, but he grips tighter, “Please.” He says, and I tug my wrist away again, but he doesn’t budge.

“Let. Me. Go.” I say, unable to withhold my anger. I blink and suddenly, I’m standing in the middle of the woods with Azriel still holding my wrist. He fucking winnowed us to the middle of nowhere. “Azriel, what the fuck are you doing?!” I give him a hard shove, but he doesn’t budge, of course, he doesn’t, he’s a 6’5 man made of pure muscle, ugh! He holds me close to his chest, “I have strong suspicions the inner circle is in grave danger and your abilities would be able to prove if I’m correct.” He quickly says, I stop moving, processing what he just said. He notices, slowly lets me go and moves away a bit but stays close. I peer up at him, confusion and concern laced in my features. “What do you mean, exactly?”

I furrow my eyebrows, still processing. Danger? How could they possibly be in danger? Is that why he brought us out to the middle of the woods, so no one would hear him? I hear Azriel take in a deep breath, “I think Elain is working with Hybern.”

#acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar series #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel angst #rhysand #inner circle #amarantha

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ak319 · 2 months ago

Note

Haii!, I really like your Arthur Morgan series and I've also read it several times and it's not boring at all!🫶🏻

Can I make a request? If so, can you make the reader jealous because Arthur is close to Mary Beth?🫶🏻 (Arthur and the reader's relationship is not platonic!)

(AN: Tsym! Remind me why we making Y/n suffer again? PS: I'm terrible at writing jealousy shit ngl and I legit dunno why. AND THATS LIT WHAT YALL KEPT ASKING FOR-😭☠) Hope yall enjoy reading lol)

Warnings/MDNI: None, just angst and then fluff to soothe your asses-

You were by the lake, lazily washing clothes. The day had you feeling sluggish, and the pleasant weather didn’t exactly help motivate you. The water was just the right temperature, cool enough to refresh but warm enough to keep you rooted in place. You should really pick up the pace, finish up, and grab some tea--or coffee--or a well-deserved break.

The faint hum of camp activity behind you was oddly comforting, a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. That is until you heard footsteps crunching on the gravel, quick and impatient, followed by a sharp curse.

“Dammit! I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you, girl.”

You glanced over your shoulder, grinning as Molly stormed up to you, her face a mix of exasperation and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“For God’s sake, Molly, you know my Tuesday routine by now,” you teased, tossing a wet shirt into the basket beside you. “It’s not like this camp is big enough to lose someone. Honestly, I think you’re just bad at looking.”

She didn’t laugh. Not even a crack of a smile. Instead, she stood there, arms crossed, her expression tight with barely-contained frustration. You paused mid-scrub, a curious eyebrow raised.

“What’s gotten into you? You look ready to murder someone.”

“Oh, sure,” she snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Leave it to ever-so-clueless (Y/N) to not notice a damn thing going on around her.” She gestured wildly toward the camp as though you were missing some grand spectacle.

You blinked, thoroughly confused. “What the hell are you on about?”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she hesitated as if debating whether you were even worth the explanation. Then, with a dramatic huff, she took a step closer, glaring down at you like you’d personally wronged her.

“Let me spell it out for you. Do I even bother tellin’ you what’s happening? Or should I just assume it won’t make a difference because your ‘dearest cold heart’ won’t care? Or worse, you’ll just laugh it off like you always do!”

Your hands stilled in the water, the soap slipping through your fingers. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

"Y’know, what I just heard and saw?” Molly huffed, throwing her hands in the air for emphasis. “Mr. Arthur Morgan, having a chat with Mary-Beth. Mary-Beth! That same snake who’s all over Dutch, and now, apparently, your man, (Y/N)!”

Her voice rose with each word, and you blinked, caught completely off guard. She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as if trying to gauge your reaction. “I swear to God, she was asking him to buy her another one of those silly romance books for her lovesick brain. I mean, why Arthur, huh? Why doesn’t she go pester Kieran’s ass instead?”

Hearing her rant, you stood up, gripping the damp shirt in your hands as you processed her words. “Wh--sounds like a friendly chat to me, Molly,” you said, trying to brush it off with a shrug. “I mean, Arthur brings stuff for everyone. He goes out the most, doesn’t he? And, well, Kieran… he’s not exactly allowed far from camp neither he can afford anything right now. They still don’t trust him, y’know. And Arthur, he’s like a brother to Mary-Beth-"

“Don’t even start with that ‘brother’ shit, (Y/N),” Molly snapped, cutting you off. “It's just a facade.”

Your mouth fell open, heat rushing to your face at the implication. Uncertainty clawed at your chest as you tried to stammer a response, but she wasn’t done. Molly’s jealousy toward Mary Beth only seemed to fuel her fire, her words coming quicker now, sharp and biting.

“And don’t act like it couldn’t happen. You think she doesn’t see how kind he is to you? How he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching? Oh, she sees it. And she’d snatch him up the moment she gets the chance.”

You clenched your jaw, her words making you shift uncomfortably. Sure, you trusted Arthur, but the venom in Molly’s tone, the way her words seemed to twist around your insecurities, left you feeling just the slightest bit unsteady.

"Did he even say goodbye to you before he sprang into action?” Molly pressed, her voice softer now, almost pitying. “And the other day, weren’t you telling me you needed some cream for your hands? You even told him, and look, just look at your hands.”

Her gaze dropped to your chapped and reddened fingers, and you instinctively tried to wipe them dry on your skirt, as if that would somehow make them better. Her words were digging deeper now, clawing at something vulnerable in you. Did he forget to bring it? Or worse, did he not care enough to remember? Had your wishes, his woman’s wishes, stopped mattering to him altogether?

“This is bullshit, you should have run away with that pen pal of yours, to be honest when you had the chance,” Molly muttered, crossing her arms. “You didn’t listen to me when I told you she’s after Dutch. And now she’s after both! I swear, those books she reads must be teaching her these tactics. Manipulative little-"

“I--y’know what?” you cut her off, your voice suddenly firm as your gaze drifted to the camp, your eyes narrowing.

“What?” Molly asked, surprised by your sudden shift in tone.

“Let’s just go,” you said, your voice laced with resolve.

“Go where?”

“Town.”

Without waiting for her to argue, you kicked the bucket of soapy water, sending it tumbling into the river, the suds spilling out and disappearing downstream. The laundry lay abandoned on the grass as you turned and marched toward the stables, Molly following close behind.

Damn everyone, then.

❀˖°

Arthur returned to camp, expecting to find you in his tent as usual. But when he stepped inside, the familiar space felt oddly empty. A frown tugged at his lips.

"Hey... um, Sadie?" he called out, spotting her near the campfire. "You seen (Y/N)?"

Sadie glanced up from sharpening her knife. "Oh, yeah. She and Molly went to town."

"What?!" The word escaped him before he could stop it, his voice louder than he intended. Clearing his throat, he muttered a quick, “Thanks,” and walked back to his tent, feeling heat rise to his face. He slumped down onto his cot with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair.

You know how he felt about you going far from camp without him, even if you were with one of the girls. It wasn’t a matter of trust, it was fear.

And still you did.

There were too many dangers out there, too many things that could go wrong, and the thought of you out there without him stirred a storm in his chest.

It was 5 p.m., the time when you two usually sat together to talk about your day over supper. The time he looked forward to most whenever he was at camp. And now? He sat there, staring at the flap of his tent, the minutes ticking by painfully slow.

But what bothered him more was why you’d gone. And with Molly, of all people. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, he didn’t have a problem with her, not really. But something about the way you two were together always set him on edge.

He’d told you how he felt about it once. About how Molly seemed to lean on you a little too much, how her sadness and drama sometimes seemed to pull you down with her. But of course, you’d defended her, saying you couldn’t just turn your back on your best friend. That Molly found her only comfort in your company.

And you were right. He knew you were. But that didn’t make it any easier to sit here, waiting, imagining where you were and what could happen.

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh, his appetite gone. Instead of heading to the campfire for supper, he threw himself onto his cot, pulling his hat over his face in an attempt to block out the growing worry gnawing at his chest.

But even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t shake the unease. Images of you and Molly wandering through town, far from the safety of camp, flickered in his mind. He trusted you, of course, but the world out there? That was another story entirely.

“Damn woman never listens to me,” he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with equal parts frustration and concern.

Sleep didn’t come easily, and even as he tried to rest, he knew one thing for certain, when you came back, this was a conversation he wasn’t going to let slide.

❀˖°

Arthur woke with a start, roused by Bill’s loud guffaw somewhere in the camp. With a groan, he rubbed his face, taking a moment to shake off the haze of sleep and piece together his scattered thoughts. Then it hit him, the memory of you leaving with Molly, and the worry twisted sharply in his chest again.

He pushed himself up with a sigh, his body stiff from the restless nap. Moving through camp, he glanced around, hoping, praying, to catch sight of you. But there was nothing. No sign of you or Molly.

He considered asking Dutch, but dismissed the thought just as quickly. Dutch would likely know even less than he did, and Arthur wasn’t in the mood for meaningless chatter.

Back at his tent, he sat on the edge of his cot, pulling out his journal in an attempt to distract himself. The flap of the tent was open, giving him a clear view of camp, but his eyes kept flickering toward it, waiting for you to appear.

His stomach growled, but he ignored it. He wasn’t going to eat, not until you came back, served the meal, and sat down beside him. That was how it went. That was how it had to go.

He was about to get up and go to find both of you himself when-

"Um, Arthur?" Abigail’s voice broke through his brooding. She appeared by the flap of his tent, holding a coffee pot. "There’s some coffee left, and I’ve got to wash the pot, would you like a cup?"

He shook his head, barely sparing her a glance. "Why’d they go to town?"

"Molly and (Y/N)?" Abigail tilted her head, her tone casual. "Oh, they’ve been back. Got back about half an hour ago. They’re in my tent, just hanging out."

Arthur blinked, first in shock, then confusion, which quickly morphed into anger. Half an hour? You’d been back for that long and hadn’t even bothered to come see him? Not even a word after being gone all day?

He shut his journal with a snap, the sound echoing his rising temper, and stood. The muffled chatter coming from Abigail’s tent grated on his nerves as he stalked toward it, each step heavier than the last.

What the hell was going on with you?

He cleared his throat outside the tent before pushing the flap open, only to find you and Molly sitting cross-legged, enjoying supper.

"Where were you? I was waiting for you."

You swallowed your bite, not bothering to look up at him. "Needed a few important things from town, actually, so I had to go."

Arthur’s jaw tightened. "Can you come with me? I want to talk."

"I’m already talking to Molly," you replied, your tone curt, still avoiding his gaze.

Damn it. Why the hell weren’t you even looking at him? That gnawing frustration in his chest boiled over. He had enough of this.

"I said, Come. With. Me." he demanded, his voice low but firm, the tone sharper than he intended.

Your head snapped up, eyes glaring at him with such intensity that, for a moment, he regretted using that tone. Hell, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t scare him just a little.

"Oh, excuse me, Mister. Don’t you dare order me around like a maid, alright? I sit, talk, and walk when I want to. And right now? I don’t want to. Now go away, we’re busy."

Arthur ignored Molly’s taunting scoff, still fixated on you. Something about this--about you--just didn’t sit right.

"I’m sorry, okay? I’m just hungry. I was waiting for you... Can we eat now?" Arthur’s chest tightened, guilt creeping in. He rubbed the back of his neck, his anger softening. "...I was just worried as hell."

Hell, I still am.

But you didn’t let it go. "I’ve already eaten, and I didn’t ask you to wait for me. There are plenty of people around here you can share your meal with, Arthur. Plenty."

You turned your attention back to Molly, flashing her a rueful grin with your hair covering your face but he definitely caught it.

The Irishwoman gave you a knowing smile, her voice full of mischief. "Oh, girl, there’s always someone around."

This is how it's gonna be huh?

His first instinct was to walk away, but no. Arthur wasn’t the type to run from problems. With one swift movement, he grabbed your arm and dragged you out and behind the tent, just past the tree line. He stared down at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and desperation.

"What the hell is that all about?! And you know I hate it when you go out alone-"

"I don’t care! I don’t care anymore!" you snapped, your voice shaking with anger. "I hate going out for some petty stuff too, which, by the way, I clearly asked you to get, and you forgot! I guess books are more important than me, huh?."

Arthur’s chest tightened. He rarely saw this side of you ever since you both got together, the frustration, the hurt, the coldness. "See, this is the problem," you continued, your voice rising. "When men find someone vulnerable enough to control, to fix, they get bored. Then they move on, find someone else to repeat the same damn cycle. Am I right?"

His mouth went dry. The words cut deep. But what hurt him the most was the thought that maybe... maybe you believed that.

He wasn’t asking for much, was he? Three meals with you, a cup of coffee, that was it. Simple things that made him feel like you cared. That made him feel loved. But you didn’t... or did you?

The silence between you two was deafening as he tried to process what you said.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur started, his frustration mounting. "See, this is why I don’t like when you and Molly-"

"Oh, no, no, no. Shush. Don’t you dare," you interrupted, your voice sharp, but there was a deep hurt behind it. "She’s always been right, Arthur. I was the dumb one. I’ve been working my ass off for you, and you didn’t even bother to say goodbye this morning, huh?"

Arthur froze, guilt beginning to gnaw at him. He wasn’t ready for this. "You know, I had a chance to leave this life, you know exactly who I’m talking about. But I didn’t. I chose you. But if I’m just gonna be sidelined like this? Nuh-uh. My ego doesn’t allow it. Nobody gets to disrespect me like that."

You took a deep breath, eyes blazing. "If you don’t want me anymore, then say it. Don’t play these stupid-ass games with me. I’m not Molly, not when it comes to this."

Arthur’s stomach dropped as the weight of your words settled in. He could feel the hurt radiating off of you, the betrayal that had built up. And now it made sense. Molly had probably warned you, just like she always did. He could almost hear her saying it a dozen times in the morning,

'Don’t let him treat you like that, they are all shit.'

"There is NOTHING like that, woman!" Arthur snapped, his voice rising in frustration. "Is that what this is about? You’re ready to just forget, hell, even think like this over a misunderstanding?"

"Call it whatever you want," you replied coldly, not backing down. "But not gonna lie, the pattern makes sense now, Arthur."

He took a step back, trying to steady his breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Don’t say that... c’mon. You know it’s not true! She’s like a sister to me! For God’s sake, how can you even think--"

Without another word, you grabbed his satchel, the leather creaking in your grip, and flipped it upside down. A book slid out and thudded onto the ground.

Arthur froze, his eyes darting to the book, then to the scattered contents of his bag. He watched, his heart sinking, as you threw the satchel aside in disgust. "Bravo," you muttered, the bitterness in your voice sharper than a knife.

"Don't even bother explaining. I’m tired." You began to walk away, but before you could get far, Arthur grabbed your wrist.

"Don't you dare, no way you’re... sleeping away from me." His voice started strong, then faltered into a desperate plea, but you didn’t turn around. With a sharp jerk, you freed your hand from his grasp and continued walking.

Arthur stood there for a moment, his breath heavy as he watched you leave. With a defeated sigh, he bent down to gather the scattered contents of his satchel. Tilly approached, offering to help, but he shrugged her off with a tired wave and handed the book over to Mary-Beth, who was standing a few feet away, her face filled with guilt and sadness. His hand lingered in his pocket for a moment, pulling out the cream he had meant to bring you, adding it to the pile with a sharp scoff.

His posture was slumped, his movements slow and burdened. He didn’t need to say anything, his body language alone was enough to tell Tilly, Mary-Beth, and anyone else watching that this sulking would last for days, and you... you weren’t someone who accepted apologies easily.

❀˖°

And that’s exactly what happened. Arthur waited every day, hoping you would just come, sit with him, and listen. He longed for you to let him explain, to sort things out, so he could hold you in his arms again. Dammit. He missed you at night like a child misses their favorite doll.

But you weren’t just any doll.

You were his doll.

And when it came to you, he was nothing but a man-child.

Everybody knew his routine, the gang enforcer's routine. Simple, predictable. Come back, chat a little, handle his business, talk and eat with you, then the tent flaps closed, just the two of you, a world away from the chaos of the camp.

But now?

Come back, brood in one corner, pace to another, sleep with the flaps wide open.

Arthur’s mood soured every time he saw you doing something that wasn’t just being with him. Chores, errands, anything that took you away, even for a moment, made him restless, agitated. He needed you with him, in the tent, with the flaps closed, where he could hold you, even if it was just in the silence of the night.

Every night, he asked you to come with him. But you ignored him. Yet, he kept asking, unable to stop the desperate hope that you’d return, that you’d see it the way he did.

"Damnit. Damn stubborn ass woman." He grumbled for what? The millionth time? Sighing he petted his horse as it trotted at a leisurely pace, just a few meters from camp. How the hell had it all gone so bad? What was even the point anymore? Are you happy now?

His horse huffed as if sensing his despair, nudging him gently, but Arthur barely acknowledged it. The familiar sound of the camp in the distance only served to remind him that nothing was the same anymore, not the meals, not the quiet talks, and certainly not the comfort of his cot. That's it. This ends tonight.

He is going to carry you over his shoulder if that takes you to talk to him. To hell with your protests and stubbornness.

You were crouched down, sorting through vegetables with Abigail, your hands busy with the task at hand.

It wasn’t long before you saw Molly moving quietly, eyes darting back and forth, heading toward the girls' area.

You knew Molly. You had spent enough time with her to understand that when her instincts kicked in, she often acted before she thought. There was an impulsive streak in her, a tendency to let her emotions guide her steps, and that could be dangerous. Especially now, when tensions were already high.

Without much thought, you excused yourself from Abigail, your voice quick and unsteady. “I’ll be right back.”

You left her with the vegetables and slipped away from the campfire, your steps light as you tried to stay out of sight. Moving quietly, you found a small, hidden spot behind a tent, where you could just make out the faint sounds of voices, though you couldn’t yet hear clearly what was being said. Your heart pounded in your chest.

"(Y/N) and I were so close, in fact, like sisters, but you ruined that too! I don’t know what you told her-" Mary-Beth’s voice cracked, and for the first time, it wasn’t the usual calm, polite tone she carried. There was raw emotion, maybe even a hint of fear, but more than that, it sounded like heartbreak.

"You did it! Just like you're trying to ruin my relationship with Dutch."

"Are you in your senses, Ms. Molly?!" Mary-Beth gasped, trying to defend herself. "How can you even think that?!"

The past few days, you couldn’t help but notice her glances at you, brief but meaningful. It was as if she was caught between wanting to reach out and not knowing if you’d welcome her presence. Her eyes would meet yours across the camp, filled with a mixture of concern and hesitation, as if she longed to approach, to console you, but the fear of intruding, of making things worse, kept her frozen in place.

You understood her hesitation. She was a kind soul, someone who cared deeply for those she loved, and in these tense moments, you knew she wasn’t sure how to navigate the space between you both. And neither did you try to clear the air.

"You and your pretty face are going to be your downfa-"

"Molly, enough." You stepped in, your voice firm. Molly turned to you, arms crossed over her chest, her face filled with frustration.

"(Y/N), don’t tell me you’re under her spell too, for God’s sake. She needs to get a reality check-"

"Molly," you interjected, stepping forward and gently taking hold of her arms. You guided her a few steps away from Mary-Beth, the tension between them thick. "Let me handle it, alright?"

"Don’t pity her, let me make that clear. Otherwise, you’ll be the one regretting it." Molly threw one last angry glance at Mary-Beth, shaking her head before storming off, muttering under her breath.

You stood there, a heavy sigh escaping you as you rubbed your forehead, watching Molly retreat. Turning back to Mary-Beth, who sat on the ground, you softened your expression. "I apologize on her behalf..." You couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation. You knew you’d have to work hard to get Molly to let go of her anger, but that's for later.

"It's... alright, (Y/N)." Her voice croaked, and you didn’t miss the tremble in it, nor the quiet tears she tried to hide. Your gaze shifted to the book resting on the makeshift table in the corner. The one she had requested. You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your throat.

"You’re not reading it?" you asked, your voice gentle.

She looked up at you, shaking her head slowly. You could see the weight of her emotions pressing down on her, and it hurt to see her like this.

You walked over, picked up the book, and sat beside her. "Why not?" you asked softly. It caught her off guard, and for a moment, her eyes softened. She hesitated before returning the smile, albeit faintly, her sadness still lingering behind it.

"I am sorry... (Y/N), if you... if you misunderstood my actions, but I swear it’s nothing. There’s nobody else, except Mr. Morgan that we feel comfortable enough to ask for things... but if you mind it, then we won’t--"

"No. No. You can ask without hesitation, and I am sorry. I was quick to jump to... conclusions," you interrupted, your voice soft with regret. You hugged her, and she gladly returned the embrace. The warmth of her arms around you soothed the tension in your chest.

You placed the book gently in her lap and shifted your body closer, not wanting to break the moment. "I just... y'know... when I love someone, I do it fully. And I don’t tolerate when that gets disrespected, y'know? That’s one thing I will never forgive." Your voice trembled slightly, the depth of your feelings evident. "But anyway, do read it, and then we’ll have a chat about it. You know I love hearing you yap about your books more than reading them myself."

She chuckled softly, her eyes lighting up with a glimmer of her old self, and you watched her face brighten as she held the book. You stood up, feeling a sense of relief, but also a lingering desire to stay.

"Definitely. But for now, I must go work too, don’t want Susan to bury me alive."

"You better." As you were making your way back to the kitchen wagon, a figure stepped in your way.

"Am I forgiven too?" His voice was teasing, but his expression was genuine. You deadpanned, folding your arms.

"Ummmm... let me think about it," you replied with a mock thoughtful expression, your gaze narrowing slightly.

He mirrored your posture, folding his arms with a smirk. "Not fair, woman. Not fair."

"I never said I was." You gave him a pointed look before turning to walk past him.

As you continued your walk back to the kitchen wagon, you felt a lightness in the air, a shift that felt... right. Arthur, still a few steps behind you, watched you quietly with an almost childish pout. There was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that told you he was waiting, waiting for you to acknowledge it all, to say what neither of you had dared to say yet.

You stopped for a moment, as you placed the cutting board, and turned to face him. The sunlight caught the edges of his hair, giving him a softer, not to mention the dark circles, giving him a more vulnerable look than you’d seen before. There was no teasing now, no masks, just Arthur, looking at you like he was seeing you for the first time again.

"I’m sorry, too," you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. "For the things I said."

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don’t like it either. I swear, I’d rather fight a hundred men than have you angry at me. But..." His hand reached out hesitantly, as though unsure whether he had the right to touch you, to pull you close. "I don’t know what I’d do without you. And I apologize too...for making you feel that way. But I swear it wasn't in my intention."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words. It wasn’t the grand gestures or flowery promises that touched you. It was the simplicity of it, the honesty in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely let show. "Well then let me tell you that," you whispered back, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I’m not going anywhere."

With a relieved exhale, Arthur stepped forward, his arms wrapping around you firmly, pulling you into his chest. It was as though all the tension from before melted away, and in its place, there was just the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against yours. "I love you," he murmured into your hair, the words so familiar now, but somehow more precious each time.

You nestled into his embrace, letting your worries fade for the moment, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "I love you, too," you replied, your voice barely above a breath, but you meant it with everything you had.

"Y'know darlin'...I was very close to shootin' myself if I had to sleep on the cold bed any longer. It took strength to control myself and not drag you out-" You rolled your eyes and pulled away.

"Right, now go away, I have work to do."

"Absolutely not. To hell with these damn chores. You are coming with me."

You shot him a skeptical glance, hands on your hips as you paused in your tracks. "Really?" you said, raising an eyebrow.

A grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he stepped closer, his broad frame encroaching on your space. "What do you think, darlin'?" he teased, his hands coming up to cradle your face, nearly squishing it with playful force. He gave your head a gentle shake, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It’s been too damn long. You’ve had me sleeping like a corpse for days. You cruel woman."

You tried to hold back the laugh that bubbled up in your chest, but his determination was infectious "Fine," you muttered, giving in more to his presence than anything else. He grinned, his hands reaching for you, pulling you effortlessly toward the flap of his tent.

"Atta girl." His voice held a triumphant edge, but it was softened with affection.

And finally, after days, the enforcer's tent flaps were closed at night--and so was the distance between you two.

(AN: Req/asks closed for now, guys :/ do keep in mind ur ideas and send once I'll announce them open)

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ms-demeanor · 3 months ago

Note

Knowledge Fight anon again - thank you for the list and recs! I look forwatd to checking them out. I was excited to see there's a West Wing podcast because I enjoyed that show, but yourself and the hosts hate it so maybe not for me lmao. Though I will still give the first episode a listen - very curious to understand why our feeligns about the show differ so vastly. And if you -want- to rant about why you hate TWW - feel free! I'm genuinely curious - I'm European, have never lived in the US, so for me it was one of the biggest tools of learning how US politics work, which made it absolutely fascinating to watch.

Anyways! I'll be looking at the other podcasts as well, they all seem very interesting, and the common-denominator format you describe them having does jive with me. Thanks again!

My very republican father and sister very much wish that all democrats would act like the democrats in the west wing. It's touted as a point of honor and a great example of compromise when Democrat Jed Bartlett appoints a republican justice to the Supreme court, any time there's an environmentalist or a union supporter on the show they're painted as extreme and uncompromising, in the later seasons the Jimmy Smitts character is running as a democrat on a pro-school-vouchers, anti-tenure/union (so anti-public school, basically) platform, the show as a whole is against entitlements (free college especially is something the ostensible dems in the show aren't even interested in enough to lament).

Idk at a certain point it gets frustrating to see anti-abortion, anti-gay marriage, anti-healthcare republicans being praised as the mature compromisers in the room with complicated motivations and good points when every time a leftist protest shows up it's a warehouse full of people without enough message discipline to talk to to cameras without erupting into a shouting match and getting brushed off as whiny babies by toby zigler.

"Oh, we need CJ to look a little loopy, let's have her agree with these cartographers who are pointing out that the mercator projection privileges the global north." "Oh we need to present something that's a ridiculous waste of money, how about a wildlife crossing that would prevent keystone species injuries in an area of urban incursion, that's bullshit that we shouldn't spend money on." "Oh, we want to explain why big pharma can't provide free HIV meds to african nations in 2003, let's suggest that it wouldn't matter even if they did because *Africans don't have clocks and can't take meds 12 hours apart.*" "this hollywood producer is pushing too hard for gay marriage in 2007, let's lecture him about how you need to slow down and respect the process instead of being an activist about it"

There's this interview with Aaron Sorkin where he's saying "America used to be the world's heroes, when my dad was a soldier people would say 'thank god, the Americans are here' and they don't say that anymore and it's because of Donald Trump" - Sorkin totally ignores US imperialism and the way that people in Vietnam and Iraq and Afghanistan wouldn't say 'thank god, the americans are here' to an extent that is genuinely startling, and that shows up in the show. At one point in the show president bartlett okays the assassination of a foreign leader and says 'today we enter the league of ordinary nations' as though the US hasn't backed coups or assassination around the world, as though the CIA isn't a thing, as though Henry Kissinger isn't a thing, and it's *bizarre* from a show that is supposed to be politically aware.

I'm actually super hesitant to recommend the west wing thing to general audiences because i don't always agree with the hosts or their guests but as an analysis of the surprisingly right-leaning politics of the show it's a worthwhile listen.

It's honestly something i could rant about for way too long because I had early warning signs about it. My sister *loves* this show and its politics. She's got a "my president is Jed Bartlett" sticker that she keeps next to her signed copy of one of Ann Coulter's books. If my sister thinks your liberal character is reasonable and level headed and has good policy positions, your liberal character isn't all that liberal.

The show is steeped in American exceptionalism and imperialist apologia but it's got a tearjerker soundtrack and maybe the best and most charming cast ever assembled so you ignore it when CJ wants to brush off constitutional protections against illegal search and seizure or cruel and unusual punishment (she's a huge fan of cops and intelligence agencies and not a fan of oversight) or when she shits on affirmative action (she believes her father lost his dream job to a less qualified candidate who was selected due to minority status, and that that job loss led to his mental decline - CJ Craig thinks that DEI hiring practices killed her father) because Allison Janney is an incredibly talented and charismatic actress who is elevating the hell out of her character.

But, you know, it would be kind of fucked up if a Democrat president's chief of staff was cheerfully on-record about the fact that she thinks intelligence agencies are more effective when nobody knows what they're doing so we should leave them to their own devices.

Thank you for the opportunity to rant i cannot fucking stand this show and i kind of want to do an episode-by-episode breakdown of various flavors of bullshit but there are much better things to do with my time so i don't but it's nice to have a chance to yell about the stuff that makes me crazy off the top of my head.

That said: if you want a podcast that is less vitriolic but does actually get into how parts of the US political system work, check out 5 to 4, which is a podcast by 3 lefty lawyers talking about Supreme Court decisions. It's great!

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liliacamethyst · 2 years ago

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just curious if there's an extra angsty alternative drabbles because i love ur work ! like in a scenario where sun-spider isn't able to care for herself because the pregnancy is taking a toll on her or she got extremely ill OR EVEN GETTING EXTREMELY injured during a mission and lets say the gang is too caught up with spider society business to check on her, how would miguel react then?

ill leave the actual state of sun-spider in your hands 🤭

A LETTER FROM THE SUN

Thank you so much for your request, I really liked your idea- So here's an extra , extra ANGSTY (trigger warning) alternative universe Drabble. I got a little bit carried away I really hope you still enjoy it 💚:

You can barely see through the spots dancing before your eyes as you stagger back to your apartment on Earth 586. You don't remember the walk home from the doctor's office but somehow, you made it back. The weight of the doctor's words still echo in your ears, "The childbirth... It's too dangerous. You won't survive."

It's not that you're not scared; you are, very much so. But more than that, you're filled with a fierce determination - for your child and for the world you've sworn to protect. And so, you put your mask, pull on your suit, and step into the battle once more, fighting harder than you ever have before.

But behind the brave facade, you're struggling. You're tired, your energy gone by the demands of your pregnancy and your duty as Spider-Sun. You're having to deal with the pains and discomforts that come with carrying a child, exacerbated by the unrelenting strain of your battles.

You retreat to Earth 586, hoping to find some solace and respite in your own universe. But instead, your responsibilities there seem to compound your exhaustion. There are still threats to confront, villains to vanquish, innocents to save. You're fighting two wars at the same time - one for your world, and one for your life.

The spider society is oblivious to your struggles. They are wrapped up in their own missions and agendas, too absorbed in saving the multiverse to notice your quiet battle for survival. The absence of concern from the team feels like a sting, a bitter pill to swallow, yet you say nothing, because you understand. So you hide your pain behind your bright smile and valiant spirit, because that's what you do best.

Still, as the days pass, your condition worsens. Your constant fatigue, the severe sickness and the frequent fainting spells- all signs that are hard to ignore. You're well aware that your body is pushing its limits but the love you have for your child growing inside of you keeps you from giving up. You've always fought against the odds, and you're not about to stop now - not when the stakes are that. Higher than they've ever been before.

You're fighting for two now, and that's all the motivation you need to keep going. You're ready to make the ultimate sacrifice for your child. And you'll face it with all the courage and determination that make you Spider-Sun.

Miguel, Gwen, Peter B, and Jess are on a mission in your Earth - Earth 586. It's been months since they've seen you, and Gwen and Peter are buzzing with excitement. Even Miguel, who maintains his stoic façade as always, has a glint in his eyes that hints at anticipation and excitement of the prospect of seeing his love again.

As they land, Gwen looks around, taking in the familiar surroundings of your world. "I can't believe it's been so long," she remarks, a hint of guilt in her voice. "We got so caught up in everything..."

Peter B chimes in, "Yeah, Sunny is gonna give us an earful for sure. I'm surprised she hasn't come to give us a welcome smack yet." His playful remark hangs in the air and everybody silently agrees.

They're here to deal with an anomaly, a Lizard-like opponent. Yet, as the fight breaks out, Peter can't help but wonder why you aren't here. This is your world, your neighborhood, your people. You're always there, ready to protect and serve. So where are you?

"Miguel!" Peter B shouts over the sounds of the fight. "Why isn't Sunny here? This is her world! Where is she?"

The fight ends sucessfully, with Jess instructed by Miguel to take the captive Lizard back to HQ. There's a tension in Miguel's voice, a sharpness that wasn't there before. He announces that he's going to look for you, his eyes flicking briefly towards the city, towards your home. “You guys go back and secure the ugly lizard. I will look where the hell Sunny is hiding.”

"We're coming with you," Gwen says firmly, Peter B nodding in agreement beside her. There's no room for argument in her voice. Miguel gives them a curt nod and so they swinf through Nea Yorkey searcing for their sun.

Gwen’s search for you leads her to knock on the doors of the neighbors in your building. Most people either shake their heads, claiming they haven't seen you, or slam the door in her face without a word. Gwen's worry deepens with each door she knocks on.

Finally, she finds a woman with a bunch of children screaming in the background. The woman looks frazzled, but she stops and listens to Gwen's questions. "Haven't seen her in days," the woman says, wiping her hands on her apron. "There was an ambulance here the other day, took her away. Ain't seen no light in her place since then."

Gwen feels as if the air has been sucked out of her lungs. She thanks the woman and rushes off to find Miguel and Peter B. Her words spill out in a rush, detailing what she found out. "Miguel," she gasps out. "Peter. Ambulance. Sunny's place."

Miguel's face goes deathly pale, and before Gwen or Peter B can react, he swings into the air, shooting webs and flying through the city with a speed and urgency that leaves them behind.

Gwen and Peter B look at each other and immediately follow, but Miguel is like a man possessed, a force of nature.

He reaches the hospital, and without a second thought, he barges through the doors. His heart is pounding in his chest, his breaths are short and ragged.

The reception desk nurses look up in surprise as Miguel, still in his Spider-Man 2099 suit, demands to know if you are in the hospital. There is a desperation as he speaks your name.

After a tense conversation with the hospital staff and almost being escorted out, Miguel is finally given the room number.

The world seems to stand still around Miguel as he enters the room, only to find it empty. The nurse, busy tidying the space and remaking the bed, looks up in surprise at the sudden intrusion.

He's staring at the closed door when a nurse brushes past him, mumbling an apology. A sudden rush of fear and confusion go through him as he turns to see the empty hospital bed. His heart feels as if it's been ripped out from his chest. The room spins around him. Where are you?

"Excuse me, are you Miguel O'Hara?" A voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he turns to see another nurse, her face kind but weary. He can only nod, words failing him at the moment.

"Mr. O'Hara, she's not here anymore. She... she's not with us," the nurse says gently, her eyes filled with sympathy. She hands him an envelope. "She asked me to give this to you if you ever came looking for her."

"I am sorry," she adds quietly, before turning to leave. "I'll be right back with little Gabe."

Miguel doesnt register her words. His entire world feels as though it's come crashing down around him. He sinks onto the nearby chair, clutching the envelope tightly, his eyes staring blankly at it. He's too numb to even attempt to open it or even move.

Gwen and Peter B burst into the room then, worry clearly visible on their faces. "Miguel, what's going on?" Gwen asks urgently, rushing to his side. Peter B follows her but Miguel barely hears them, his blood rushing in his ears.

The world is blurry around him, sounds are muffled and distant. The room is empty, and you are not there. ‘No es real’ and ‘por favor vuelve a mi mi sol’ are the only things he can mumble over and over again tirelessly. The reality of it feels like a crushing weight on his chest and all he can do is sit there, holding onto the last piece of you he has left.

Dear Miguel,

If you're reading this, then I am no longer in this world.

I just wanted to let you know that it’s not your fault and no you couldn’t have saved me. I know how you are, Miguel. You always have been the man who would try to save the world single-handedly, even if it meant sacrificing yourself in the process. But this wasn't on you. This was my choice, my decision and I stand by it. I knew the risks and I am sorry I hurt you.

But here's the thing, I have no regrets. Our child...our Gabriel, he's my most cherished gift to you, Miguel. And I know you, with your awkward, nerdy charm and those terrible dad jokes you think are hilarious, will be an amazing father. You were born to be a dad - it's like your destiny. And guess what? This is your second chance to be the best dad you were always supposed to be.

I know you will protect our baby with every fiber of your being. That's just who you are. My last wish is that you give Gabriel the life he deserves. Raise him, love him, be there for him. That's all I want, Miguel.

And if you ever miss me, just look up to the sky, and I'll be there. Even if you can't see me, know that I'm probably hiding behind a cloud, always watching over and protecting you and our Gabriel.

P.S. Please let Gwen, Peter, Jess, Hobie, Miles, Pav and the rest of the squad know how thankful I am for them. They’ve been family, and I know they will rock as godparents.

Forever shining for you,

Tu sol

The door opens again, and the nurse walks in, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. A baby. A newborn.

As soon as Miguel held the newborn,his son, securely in his arms, he makes a silent promise to you, wherever you are, that he will honor your last wish. He will be the father Gabriel deserves and he will make sure that your sacrifice and love will never be forgotten.

After all, how could anyone possibly forget about the sun?

#miguel ohara #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara imagine #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar issac x reader #oscar isaac imagine #oscar isaac #spider man x reader #spider man

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barrenclan · 5 months ago

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I hope its okay to ask- what motivated you to keep the body count so low? With how often it was reinforced that this was a tragedy, that no one was safe, etc, I'm in an odd spot in which I think, logically, that it makes perfect sense that it happened this way (straight up think its brilliant, actually!! The thematic relevance of Pinepaw accepting the meaninglessness of his life being what stops Deepdark? Poetry, even) but not being able to reconcile that with being somewhat emotionally let down that only two minor characters died aside from Rainhaze (which was a given imo). This isnt a criticism, the more I digest it the more I enjoy it/I realize what a great choice it was - I actually wouldnt want any of it to change- I'm just very very curious about your thought process on this. You already spoke of Asphodel and Rainhaze, but how did you decide who and how many were going to die? Is it more about the *after*, the picking of the pieces after its over? I am so very excited for the picking of the pieces after its over, actually lol.

Real answer: I have far too much I want to explore thematically with nearly all of the characters, and the vast majority of it only happens if a lot of them remain alive.

When I wrote the ending of the comic, I actually struggled to find another character to kill in the attack besides Mallowstar and Rainhaze - like I said when talking about Cypressfoot's death. There were absolutely no more characters beyond her that I was willing to sacrifice, in terms of what they would give me narratively alive versus dead. This was never a story about everything ending in total destruction, anyways - it's a story about learning how to grow after grief and deal with random acts of misery that seem to leave nearly everything unchanged except for the enormous effects they have on you. You often don't get to choose what is going to happen to you and it's up to forces beyond your control if you and your loved ones live or die.

This is a worldview I hold, anyways - the future is entirely fluid and loose, and just as much as terrible things can happen, everything can turn out fine, too. Misery is not the natural state of the world (that's entropy, haha), and the other side of the coin is always possible. But once events happen, they are locked into an unchangeable permanence and you simply have no choice but to try and grapple with how they will affect your unknowable future. You have infinite branching paths, but you'll only follow one once you look behind you... not to get too much into personal philosophy.

Joke answer: SNIFFLE, SNIFFLE, SOB, I DON'T WANNA KILL MY LITTLE GUYS

#ask #anon #chatter

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cordeliasdarling · 6 months ago

Text

Staring is Rude — Larissa Weems x Reader

——

A/N: Took a while to get motivation to write again, but here I am. I hope it’s alright, I just love the thought of Larissa being a stalker. A bit darker than my usual few stuff but hey. If someone likes this I may make it into a lil series. Any interactions will be appreciated!!

— Beta read by the wonderful @poulengp — idk what I’d do without your support :))

Warnings: Larissa being a bit creepy but in a soft way????

——

You always look good in the morning.

At least that's what Larissa thinks. The way you comb your hair with a green brush despite blue being your favourite colour. The way you do your makeup but always try the eyeliner a few times before you're happy with the results. All of this makes her smile. It's a part of her morning routine now— parking outside your apartment block and using those trusty binoculars to spy on you. Well, she doesn't see it as spying, merely observing. That's not a crime, is it?

One particular Tuesday, Larissa sits in her expensive looking car, one she could easily afford with the salary she earns at Nevermore mixed with her savings. Why not splash out for once? She sits there, humming a tune she heard on the radio as she was getting ready for the day. But you don't appear in the window. She checks, and checks again, and you don't appear. The window is empty, just showing the cream wall of your bedroom.

Worry sinks into Larissa like a bite. Are you okay? Did you need help? All those panicked thoughts flood her mind, starting to feel nauseous. Where were you? Her eyes scan the road, searching for your car, and it isn't there. She swallows thickly, suddenly nervous. At the same time, her phone pings, and she hastily picks it up, seeing it's her alarm, notifying her that it's time to go back to Nevermore and start the school day. She sighs. You are okay, she tells herself, you are okay. Probably just crashing at a friend's house after a long night. It wouldn't be the first time

After one last look, Larissa tucks her binoculars in the glove compartment and drives off.

—

"I'm at the end of my tether." Larissa booms, pinching the bridge of her nose. It didn't help but it is always something she does out of habit. A habit that is growing increasingly more common.

The young girl lets no emotion show on her face. Her foot simply taps against the hardwood floor rhythmically, almost as if she was bored— the cheek she had!

Principal Weems bites her tongue, because she is very close to cursing under her breath, something she would never do in front of a student but Wednesday evokes a lot of feelings like that. She simply takes a deep breath, the air filling her lungs as she rises from her leather lined chair. Her deep crimson heels clacks against the varnished wood, though she stops in her tracks when she hears a small 'ping'. She knows what it is, a personalised tone for the tracking app she uses for you. She had paid for the customization, wanting it to be different to the default tone in case someone were to hear and recognise it somehow. Stupid technology, she briefly thinks to herself. It is very tempting to retrieve her phone from the bag she had placed beside her desk, though looking at Wednesday's curious expression, she fights the urge.

"You have one more chance in this academy. One more toe out of line and you're out of here. I don't care what your mother says. Do you understand me?" The undertone in her voice is deep, letting the young girl know she truly means it.

"Fine." Wednesday stands up and Larissa sits down. Once the girl is gone, Larissa picks up her bag, fishing around and finding the phone. Her hands are almost shaky as she unlocks the thing and opens the app.

According to it, your car is on the move, heading from downtown to your home. Relief settles in Larissa like never before.

—

"One hot chocolate please."

Larissa Weems announces as she locks eyes with the usual barista in the Weathervane. He nods with a smile which she returns. She scans the small café, breathing in the warm scent of coffee beans. She's never been a fan of coffee but she can appreciate the warmth it gives. Eventually she sees you. It takes a great deal of strength not to grin and walk over.

"Here you go, Ms Weems." The man calls out, handing over the steaming cup. She thanks him and sits down at the table behind you. Her eyes lay on the back of your head, staring intently. She's struck by the memory of when she first met you. When you wore those loose fitting jeans, lilac sweater, scruffy shoes, not caring about what anyone thought. You'd walked into this café with your laptop, typing away, utterly unaware of what was going on around you. Perhaps if you had looked up, you would have noticed the way Larissa's eyes widened, almost dropping her drink and scolding herself. Your beauty was beyond anything she'd ever seen before. Had you just moved into town? Surely, because she'd never seen you before.

And that's when it all started. The following home, the tracker planted under your car, the sussing out of your house and working out your routine. It had never occurred to Larissa that it might have been creepy. She used the excuse that she was just interested.

"Staring is rude, you know."

Larissa jumps out of her daydream and is shocked to find that you have swivelled around in your chair and are now looking at her directly. There is a lump in her throat. She has heard you speak before, that soft tone like a lullaby, but never directed at her.

"Sorry—" She utters, hands clenching around her cardboard cup. This is new, out of what she had planned for the day. It feels uneasy, breaking the routine.

"No worries. I just felt someone's eyes on the back of my head." Your head tilts back as you laugh quietly. Butterflies erupt in Larissa's stomach. She feels so special, to be the object of your focus.

Larissa smiles faintly, "Just thought I recognised you." Her voice is a little strained.

"You must recognise me very often." Your tone is nonchalant but it shows what you mean. That you have noticed her staring over the last few months. A blush rises to Weems' cheeks, luckily not too visibly, due to the makeup she applies every morning.

Just in time to save her, Larissa's phone rings. She looks at you apologetically, picking it up. It is the mayor, asking to arrange a time to meet. She takes her time talking, as part of her mind wants to think of something normal to say to you. But by the time she's finished, you've already slipped on your coat and left, continuing with your evening. Larissa exhales, letting go of the breath she doesn't know she's been holding.

"Damnit—" She mutters to herself as she shoves her phone in her bag. Her mind drifts back to the morning, wondering what on earth you had been up to. Being at a friend's house was the only possible solution, unless you had been up to no good. Terrible scenarios of you hanging out with dangerous people cross her mind, but she shakes them off before she can get too carried away.

She pulls out her phone again.

She opens the app she probably opens at least sixteen times a day, noting that your location is moving swiftly down the main road, indicating that you are driving home. This gives Larissa some comfort, knowing you're going to be safely inside with the doors locked.

She finds her way home fifteen minutes later, settling on the couch with a generous glass of red wine, something that always sooths her. Perhaps some would say she drinks too much, but to that Larissa would say to mind your own business.

She thinks of the small interaction you two have now shared, and it is like a drug. Now she craves to be the centre of your attention again.

So she plans for the next afternoon, when she knows you'll be in the local library choosing a book.

——

#stalker alert :)#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #gwendoline christie #gwendoline universe #Wednesday #principal weems #stalker #fanfic #lesbian #lgbtq

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chaeyoei · 5 months ago

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Hello :3 ,I had an idea while staying up late (it's 3am) and I was remembering school and so on, so I'm curious if you could write about HSR characters in school (as usual I want Blade and Aventurine;) and other characters if they're male or female (Kafka pls..) And how they act with the reader

All in all, have a good day/night (Any time.)

👀 we'll settle some things down then. Gender Neutral. These are personal opinions and my creative juices aren't flowing well.

Blade

Blade borderlines between Class delinquent and Bunker.

Blade was an A grade student but something happened and he lost all motivation and became who is he now.

You can expect school bully traits from him. He and his group are always in detention. It's become a daily basis.

His interaction with you would really just be him not acknowledging you or if you're close to him, he'll share his lunch with you.

Sliver Wolf

Sliver Wolf is the Kid who's going to be developing obbies in Roblox and just be a champion in digital games.

She's going to bunk classes and just grafiti the school wall.

If you ever see the username ChampionSliverWolf_0 in your game, just know that you're losing your one game streak.

She'd call you loser if you're really bad at games (me), and if you make for a good opponents, just expect from her to come up to you and go "Game night at 5 pal" And then leave.

Kafka

Makima Charm with Monkia's manipulation.

You know this woman is going to make you question your sexuality. She just has that charm. The one girl who's locker would be filled with love letters and roses.

If you ask anyone what they think she'd be in the future, 99 out of 100, you're going to hear model.

I think that her and Blade would be friends which nobody expected to happen but she would give her notes to Blade and in return Blade would protect her from the creeps. (No ship.)

Kafka would either be that one girl you can ask on how to charm your crush and she'll give you tips for some credits ofc.

Firefly

That one silent and shy girl that can kick ass and give you nasty looks if you bully her or her friends.

She's a goodey two shoes but she'd break rules for her friends.

I'd like to think she has a condition that limits her to have a few friends.

But I think she and Silver Wolf would get along pretty well. Silver Wolf would host a slumber party and invite Firefly, they play Mario kart and monopoly, munch on Cheetos and fall asleep.

Firefly, if you're a good friend would remain lighthearted and shy infront of you but boy if anyone ever bullies you, she's going to kick some ass.

Aventurine

That one kid who already has a business running. Need a pen? That'd be 10 credits, a new notebook? 25 credits. Gum? 5 credits.

He's really popular too. Heck he's somehow friends with the topper Ratio.

i think he'd be a shameless flirt. He'd have those right lines and rizz you up like it's nobody's business.

Herta

The Academic weapon. Doesn't even attend the class, shows up in the finals and scores the best with full marks and nobody knows who she even is.

honestly, nothing. She's not even attending. You either don't know her or do.

Robin

The popular girl who'd help you do your make up and is just nice. There's a chance that my Seele can crit more than the chance of anyone disliking her on planet Earth.

The most active and the lead of the choir.

She'd help you in everything, whether it'd be studies or getting you into a group.

Drabble and no long paragraph because my creative spirits have betrayed me like Dan Heng IL not coming home after I spent everything on him.

#hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #blade x reader #aventurine x reader #kafka x reader #silver wolf x reader #herta x reader #robin x reader #Firefly x reader

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ahsxual · 1 year ago

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Hi! Your writing is wonderful, and I wanted to wish you the best of luck on your exams in advance 🥰 could you imagine the stoic Sang-woo proposing to his girlfriend? Idk the idea of him being in a relationship and coming to terms with his emotions fascinates me. Thanks!

Sweet Proposal

Pairing: Cho Sang-woo x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2,2k

A/N: Awww thank you, dear anon! I truly appreciate your kind words, it means the world to me 🥺💓 I have to say that I agree with you and I absolutely loved your idea for this request! I hope you enjoy my writing and I wish you the best <33 I wrote this request a long time ago and never posted it idk why, but here goes (my apologies🥺)

You and Sang-woo have been dating a few years now: you met him through his mother, the woman who you visited everytime you passed by her store and who you always bought something fresh to eat. Her products were of great quality, besides the fact that she was the kindest woman you have ever met in your entire life. She treated you like her own daughter/son, and since you lived by yourself in south korea, you really appreciated having someone who you could count on. Whenever you had a bad day, you would tell her and she would help you by giving you the best advices from her life experience, so your relationship was pretty close. Until one day, her son visited her, and that's when you met the love of your life.

"Good morning, miss Cho!" you greeted your second mother as you liked to call her, only for her to turn to you with the biggest smile and bright eyes on her face, as always. However, this time she had company.

"Oh, my sweet Y/N! Come here sweetie, please let me introduce you my wonderful son, Cho Sang-woo!" she seemed so excited, in contrast to her son who seemed pretty serious and uncomfortable with the whole situation.

"Hey." he simply said with a low, yet neutral tone, making you realize that he was quite the opposite from his mother: she shined even in the darkest days, while he somehow brings darkness wherever he goes to. But the fact that he had such a hard personality to deal with and understand, instead of pushing you away, only made you even more curious about that mysterious man. Besides the fact that he is incredibly handsome, but that's another story.

"Hey there! I'm L/N Y/N, nice to meet you." you put your hand in front of him so you wouldn't be just standing there looking awkwardly at each other. He looked at it for a second, before taking it and shaking it gently, like he was afraid to break your way smaller hand.

"I'm so happy you finally met my son! I'm sure you two will get along just perfectly!" her joy was contagious, yet her own son didn't seem to let his mother's charm get to him. You heard her talking about her amazing son so many times, saying how he was a kind man, and extremely intelligent and responsible. Yet, here he is, looking like his life was a complete chaos.

"Yeah, I'm sure we will." you answered shyly, only for him to look at you with a surprised expression. You simply smiled at him, making him blush slightly at your cuteness.

Now you are in bed with your soulmate by your side, watching him sleep peacefully: who would have known you two would get here? Together?? You didn't know the right answer for that as well, but the truth is that life can really surprise you.

You were Sang-woo’s first love: the only person who stood with him no matter how many problems he had, both professionally and psychologically. You would never give up on him, and that's what made him realize you were the love of his life, the soulmate he was unconsciously looking for so desperately. No one would ever guessed, but one of Sang-woo’s main goals in his life is creating a family who loved and supported him until the end, to feel the happiness and comfort of waking up every day next to his significant other. However, before meeting you, his problem was that he never had the patience or motivation to find love or to continue to please his possible partner until they fell for him. No, he wanted to focus on his professional career first, the rest just being mere details. What made him fall for you, was your dedication to be with him and build a promising life by his side, supporting him and helping him whenever he needed: you were also the first and only person who he told about his fears, insecurities and feelings about certain topics, but only after a few, long months of building trust and courage. And you did the same: you considered him your best friend, because he always helped you with the most racional advices, which were the best in your opinion.

After a few minutes of analyzing lovingly every feature that you knew so well of your loved one, you noticed him moving slightly and groaning from waking up from his precious sleep.

"Good morning, tough guy." you joked, only to receive a confused expression from him just before he rolled his reddish eyes and laugh at the nickname.

"Good morning, babe." his voice was so deep that it made you have inappropriate thoughts, however you knew he was too tired for it right now. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I actually did. As for you, I think I don't even have to ask." you laughed at his still sleepy state, before putting your legs over him and hug his long torso. He pulled you closer, closing the space that separated your hungry lips before kissing you slowly, yet with the perfect amount of passion and love.

"Yeah, I really needed to rest my mind and body from yesterday." you shyly laughed at him before hitting his arm when he reminded you from your passionate love session from the night before.

"You silly!" the moment you called him that, he rolled you over so he could be on top.

"Call me that again and see what happens." he warned you with a serious face, yet you knew him better. He was obviously messing with you, and you would be lying if you said you didn't like his demanding behavior.

"Can you join me in the shower, babe? Please?" you decided to change the subject, giving him the pleading look that you knew he couldn't resist.

"Yeah, sure." he smiled before giving you a quick kiss on the lips. "Just wait for me, I'll be right back."

"Ok, I'll wait for you." you gave him a last peck on his lips, before making your way to the bathroom, unconscious of what was coming for you.

That day your boyfriend invited you to dinner at a fancy restaurant, so you thought it would be a simple date like the many you've had before. But this time, he had promising plans for you and your future together, something you weren't expecting to happen so soon. It was already 7:30 pm, so he called you to hurry so you could be on time at the restaurant.

"I'm coming!" you warned your handsome boyfriend, before you appeared in front of him dressing your favorite date outfit that he bought you a few days ago.

"You look gorgeous, sweetheart." his eyes were full of love, admiration and pride for you, making your heart melt with happiness. You felt so loved at that moment... you still couldn't believe you were dating that man.

"Thank you, love. Let's go." you thanked him, before leaving your house and walk to get into his expensive black car.

You and Sang-woo arrived at the restaurant 15 minutes earlier, so you took your time to sit at your reserved table. The restaurant was outstanding: everyone was dressed nicely and the environment was peaceful and romantic; it was an expensive and well known restaurant from your city, which made you feel important. You also felt really happy to know that your boyfriend took you on a date at a very welcoming and beautiful place: it meant that he really loved you and makes a real effort to build up your relationship by changing your routine from time to time, which was healthy for both of you.

A few hours passed and you talked about everything and anything: your plans for your future together, funny stories that happened in your childhood that you didn't know about, how work was going and who are the people you like or dislike... it was a really nice, yet nostalgic and interesting conversation. After that, he insisted to pay your dinner. You felt bad, so he promised next time you could pay, which you knew he was lying.

When you left the restaurant, hand in hand, he told you that his plans for that night weren't done yet.

"I need you to do something for me, honey." your future husband said as soon as you entered the car. You looked at him suspiciously, waiting for whatever was coming. "Close your eyes." he simply said.

"What? Why would you-"

"Just trust me, ok? It's not like I'll kidnap you or something." he made sure to use his sarcasm to relax you a little bit, indirectly telling you that he wasn't going to do anything bad.

"I wouldn't mind if you did so." your sassy comment made him laugh quietly, before you closed your eyes and heard his car running.

Minutes passed and you were starting to get bored with having your eyes closed for so long. At least his strong grip on your inner thigh kept you entertained during the car trip. Suddenly, you felt the car stop slowly, and that's when you realized you had finally arrived at your destination. You were about to open your eyes, when you felt a smack on your thigh.

"Ah! I didn't say you could open your eyes already, did I?" his demanding tone made you internally scream and blush hard, but you needed to remain calm to not lead things to another way, since you didn't want to ruin the plans he made for you.

He helped you getting out of the car, before putting his hand on your waist to guide you to the place where he would make the big proposal.

"Open your eyes, love." he whispered into your ear. The moment you opened your eyes, tears instantly made their way to your warm cheeks: you could watch and admire each star on the sky, shining in your direction; it was full moon night, which made you think that Sang-woo chose this specific night for that reason; in front of you, you could also see and hear the calm and relaxing dark-blue sea moving at a slow and therapeutical pace. It was the most romantic moment you ever had and even imagined. You were too focus on the ocean and the brilliant stars above you, that you didn't even notice what was written on the sand: "Will you marry me, Y/N?" was written in huge and well marked letters. This made your heart beat at an incredibly fast pace and your vision to go blurry due to the emotional warm tears that wanted to escape from your eyes.

"Baby, what's all of thi-" when you turned around in hope that the man of your life would explain what was happening at that moment, even tho you knew already, you saw him kneeling instead, looking at you nervously with a small black box on his hands which contained a shining ring inside.

"L/n Y/n, I know I'm not the best lover sometimes due to my emotionless personality, however you liberate a more loving, caring and passionate side of me that I never knew I could have until I met you. I never thought I could be so in love with someone... and to be honest, I didn't even know what was love before I kissed you for the first time. I'm sorry for all the times I made you upset, but I promise I'll be a better person for you. So... will you marry me, my love?" you never saw your boyfriend being so open with his feelings, not even towards you, so you knew this was extremely hard for him and that all what he was saying was the pure truth. Also for the first time you noticed Sang-woo cry in front of you, even though he remained with a neutral facial expression.

Deep inside, you knew he feels a lot, he just used this "mask" to hide his vulnerability and pretend he is emotionless. But with you, he doesn't feel the need to pretend to be strong all the time. And that's when he realized it was you who he was going to marry and spend the rest of his life with.

You couldn't help but cry in front of him, his action caughting you by surprise, in a good sense.

"Of course my love, of course I will marry you!! There is nothing I desire more than to have you as my husband." he smiled until his cheeks started to get sore: this moment was unique and special for both of you. You always made him forget any pain he might feel. He quickly stood up and picked up into his arms, spinning you over and over again until you both felt almost dizzy.

That night was unforgettable for both of you, and now that you had a wedding ring on your finger, you couldn't think about anything else than stepping onto the altar and marry the man of your dreams.

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