#only my family members greeted me because no one else even knows how old I am lol

[padviejj]

Yayy happy birthday to me

My beautiful ladies and a stinky rat

Let's all just pretend it's not obvious who my faves are

[one-idea]

Shanks raising ASL part 7

First - Previous - Next

One they get back to the Red force Shanks finds Benn waiting on the deck. Ace had passed out on the way back and was sleeping in Shanks arms. Benn looked the two over smirking at his captain. “Finally got through to the little fighter eh.” He whispered to his Captain. He knew how much the boys had come to mean to his captain, knew that they were part of the crew now. Part of their family. But he wasn’t going to pass up the chance to tease Shanks over his grumpiest son.

Shanks looked down at the little boy he was carrying in his arms. “In more ways than you can imagine.” He whispered back. Then he turned his attention back to Benn. “Where-”

“Where else.” Benn cut him off jerking his head towards the captain’s quarters. He knew exactly who his captain was asking after.

Shanks smiles at his first mate before making his way to his cabin, leaving Benn behind on watch. It was a bit of a juggle to get the door open and not let go of Ace but he managed. Once inside he was greeted by the sight of Mihawk sitting up on a chair next to the bed. In his bed lay Luffy and Sabo all tangled up in the blankets and each other. Mihawk turned to met his eye as he came in, nodding his head down to Ace in a silent question. ‘Is everything taken care of?’

“He’ll be okay for now.” Shanks reassured the unsaid worries. He walked over and gently laid Ace down next to Luffy. Watching as the three boys rearranged themselves subconsciously. Sabo throwing an arm over Luffy to grab hold of Ace, while Luffy snuggled into his returned brother. Ace turned to meet them. Wrapping himself around Luffy and fisting a hand into Sabo’s shirt. “But there’s a lot I need to tell you.”

The two men talked quietly, carful not to wake the boys. Mihawk tried to remain impassive but even he was shocked by the reveal of Ace’s parents.

“How can we protect them Mi? Luffy being Garp’s grandson was already going to take some maneuvering, but Ace? If this gets out the Marines will never leave him alone.” Shanks was sitting on the edge of the bed looking down at his boys, his hand gently running trough Ace’s hair. How could the world be so cruel? That Ace would be hunted down for no actions of his own.

“Then we never let them know.” Mihawk stated smoothly. “We keep the circle small. Only those we trust completely will know. The problem will be once he’s out there on his own, will he keep it a secret?” Mihawk paused. Thinking over an idea. One he loathed but might protect his family.

“I don’t want him to have to lie about who he is. Especially not from his Namaka. I don’t want to make him feel ashamed of who he is, or that he’s worth less because of his parents.” Shanks turned to face his partner. “They were good people Mi. My captain was a great man, Ace shouldn’t have to hide.”

“But he does.” Mihawk knew Shanks had a soft spot for his old Captain. His loyalty ran deep, and Shanks couldn’t stand the lies the Marines had spread about his old crew. But sentiment wasn’t going to keep Ace and his brother safe. It was fine to let the boy know the truth of his parents. On this boat he could be Gol D. Ace and know the man his father was. But the rest of the world couldn’t know.

“To the rest of the world he needs to be Portagas D. Ace adopted son of Red Hair Shanks. Nothing else. Even that last name would be a risk if so many of the Rodger pirates weren’t already wiped out.” He saw the small flinch his lover gave at the reminder of his lost family members. Mihawk didn’t want to hurt him, but for now they to be pragmatic. “We hide him by tying him to you. He’s just some kid you picked up in the East Blue. Nothing more.”

There was silence between them as they both thought over the future. Shanks turned his head to look back down at the boys.

“You said me.” Shanks voice was soft, grabbing Mihawk’s attention.

“Clarify.” He requested, he wasn’t sure where Shanks’ head was at right now.

“You said ‘we hid him by tying him to me’ so I take it you’re not staying.” Shanks had always know that this would come to an end. But Mihawks extended stay with the crew in the East Blue. The time they had spent on Dawn Island with the boys. Seeing Mihawk with his boys, it had allowed Shanks to deceive himself into thinking that maybe this time Mihawk would stay.

He had offered a place on the crew to Mihawk many times, but he understood the call of the sea, the need for freedom. And it had never stopped him from loving Mihawk, as long as Mihawk returned to him, it would never stop him. But that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt every time Mihawk left. It didn’t mean he wanted Mihawk to leave.

Mihawk sighed. It was an old conversation. Shanks always gave him the option to stay but had long stopped out right asking for him to stay. He was always welcomed on the Red force but it was never home. When he was working his way to the top he had to be able to travel quickly. To hunt down his next opponent. To win his title. Now that he had it, challengers need to be able to find him. Constantly moving was counterproductive to that. Plus he would only hinder Shanks’s own goals. If people kept coming to challenge him, then Shanks and the crew, and now the boys, would be put in the cross fire. And that’s not to mention the influx of marines that would hunt them if they were publicly together. No better to keep them separate.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. That he doesn’t want to keep Shanks and the boys safe. That he doesn’t love them….. He’s going to take that stupid offer.

“No. I won’t be.” Mihawk replied keeping a carful watch of his partners movement. How Shanks’s shoulders dropped just a bit and how he wasn’t looking at him. “In fact there’s another offer I’ll be taking.”

Shanks whipped around to look at him. “And just who else’s crew will you be joining?” This was a slap to the face. He thought Mihawk didn’t join his crew because he didn’t want a captain, but maybe he just didn’t want him.

“I’m not joining any crew.” Mihawk dismissed the concern. He never wanted a captain but if he were to have one, he’d pick Shanks. His lover should have no doubts or worries over that. “The Marines have made me an offer.”

“You can’t trust them.” Shanks felt his heart drop. It was his captain all over again. Mihawk would put his trust in the Marines and they would stab him in the back instantly. He couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t lose someone else he loved to the marines. “Whatever they promised you, whatever deal they offer is a lie. You can’t trust them.”

“I know that.” Mihawk would be more irritated with Shanks if there wasn’t a breathing reminder of everything Shanks lost sleeping on their bed right now. His lover had had a long stressful night already and he probably should have saved this conversation for another night. But oh well. “They’re creating a ‘Warlord’ system. A group of pirates who can operate however they please without interference from the marines. In exchange we have to help them deal with certain problems.”

He watched as several emotion flicker over Shanks face. “I don’t like it. And I can’t imagine you enjoying being under their thumb.” Shanks couldn’t understand why Mihawk would even consider agreeing to this proposal.

“Oh I won’t. I wasn’t originally planning on taking up the offer. But I can refuse to help them. If they ever sent me after you or the boys I would refuse, or a least fake my efforts, depending on the situation.” Mihawk agreed with Shanks explaining his reasoning.

“Won’t they come after you if you refuse them.” Shanks questioned his lover’s logic.

“Of course but I’m not taking this position for my own safety.” Mihawk explained. Though his explanation left more questions than it answered for Shanks.

“Then why take it in the first place?” Shanks questioned. Starting to get frustrated. He did not want any of his loved ones near the Marines.

“Come now Shanks, you’re smarter than this.” Mihawk waited for his lover to put all the pieces together. He wasn’t good at expressing emotions. He far preferred actions than words. Luckily Shanks always seemed to know his true intentions behind his actions. He had no doubt Shanks would understand him once he thought it over.

Shanks paused thinking things through. “If you take this they won’t hunt you, and you can do what you please….”

“Meaning they won’t be paying to close of attention to who I’m around. They also are giving us the option of making our own home based on islands in the Grandline.” Mihawk expanded in the privileges given to him by the world government if he took up their offer.

“You hate staying in one place for to long so why…” Shanks was still putting the pieces together.

“Because it would give you a safe place for the boys.” Mihawk finally laid the last card on the table. “You’re a big name Red Hair, but you’re no emperor yet.” Mihawk had no doubt that Shanks would reach that level. He was well on his way there. “But until you make yourself and your crew untouchable….”

“The marines could come after us and the boys.” Shanks finished looking between the sleeping children and his lover.

“So if there was an island the marines couldn’t touch where you and your crew could restock or stay out of sight.” Mihawk continues the thought his lover started.

Shanks bit his lip as he thought over his lovers plan. “That would be helpful. But not at the cost of-”

“My freedom?” Mihawk went right to the heart of the issue. “You’re right if that was the only benefit it wouldn’t be worth it. Which is why I wasn’t going to take it. Until tonight.” Mihawk turned his attention from Shanks for the first time in this conversation. His eyes locking on Ace. “After all, if the world government ever learned about the existence of the pirate king’s son who would they send after him? Marines or Pirates?” He locked his eyes back on Shanks’ wide ones. Understanding finally filling his lover’s gaze. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a heads up on what they know?”

Shanks couldn’t believe was Mihawk was offering. This was an advantage they wouldn’t get again. But still. “I can’t ask you to do this Mi.”

“You’re not.” Mihawk cut him off firmly. “It’s my decision. Besides it’s not forever. You’re close to being an emperor. You and the boys will be untouchable then. The government won’t send me after you. That gives me 7-8 years to build up trust with the fools. By then Ace and Sabo will probably set sail, and I’ll be in a position to make sure the government isn’t giving Ace any attention he doesn’t earn.” Mihawk smirked at the end. Sure that all three boys will create quite the stir when they leave the nest.

Shanks thought about it. He still hated the idea. The idea of Mihawk being so close to the government, the people who killed his captain, put him on edge. “I still don’t like it.”

“I know.” The two made eye contact once more. Mihawk held out his hand and Shanks reached out to hold it. Mihawk used his grip to pull Shanks over to him, Shanks willingly followed moving from the bed to his lovers lap.

“Can it wait? I’m close to being an emperor. Maybe that will be enough protection on its own?” Shanks knew it was a good plan but he just couldn’t agree to it.

Mihawk sighed wrapping his arms around Shanks. “It can wait for a little while longer. But I’ll have to answer soon. The offer won’t be there forever.” Mihawk already knew his choice. If it would give him an advantage at protecting those he cared for he could deal with being the Marines delivery boy. A few years were nothing in the grand scheme of things. But he would concede tonight. Shanks wasn’t ready to agree, he’s had a long and emotional night. They had time to talk about it again. Once the boys were more settled and Shanks had time to think over the offer. He was a brilliant strategist after all. Mihawk had no doubts he would come to the same conclusion Mihawk had.

But for now he held his lover close as they watched over their sleeping boys.

They had time.

Or the did until a bandit decided to show up at Party bar the next morning.

This kinda got away from me. I’ve always been fascinated over why Mihawk decided to become a Warlord. So here are some of his thoughts behind it in this Au.

[pterodactylterrace]

Unapologetically Team Green Take:

Alicent

Ok, I’m going to call it now. They decided Maelor being Aegon and Helaena’s child was green propaganda. In F&B Helaena couldn’t even care for herself, let alone her remaining children.

Aegon allegedly gives Maelor to his mother to raise as her own. No mention of the surviving twin being given the same treatment. They will likely decide to give Alicent at least one bastard just to drive home the feeling of “see? Evil hypocrite!” Even though Alicent is a widow and not putting her illegitimate son in the succession.

It was rumored that Daeron would be an Alicole bastard, but then how in the fuck did he hatch his dragon? I’m getting the vibe that Tessarion was hatched to Daeron, which wouldn’t be possible unless Viserys was his father. I can already hear Condal now “everyone kind of forgot that only Targaryens can hatch a dragon egg” “it’s green propaganda that only Targaryens can claim dragons”

Just waiting for all the “Alicent is a hypocrite and a slut!” Hate to start rolling in. The only issue is that her paramour is a member of the kingsguard. And he is willingly breaking his vow. A vow Aegon doesn’t seem to even really care about that much. It sounded more like a suggestion when he told his kingsguard pal that he was supposed to be celibate. Plus, isn’t the vow that they would father no children, not that they wouldn’t get their freak on? I mean, maybe it’s splitting hairs, but the point of the vow is that they won’t have anyone or anything else they would put before their duty. Isn’t it kind of null and void if the resulting child would be a member of the royal family? Not to mention, Alicent took Ye Olde Morning After, so they are actively preventing him from fathering children.

Aemond

Speak High Valaryian between my legs to me

That smooth, cool voice just effortlessly tearing into Aegon. That had no business being THAT hot.

It’s nice to know Aegon wasn’t planned on being there. At least they have some sort of brain in their heads.

My take is that Aemond gave Aegon a chance, and came to his aid when it was clear he couldn’t win on his own. I also prefer to think that he didn’t mean to roast his brother.

We see Aemond walking around the crash site with his sword out. He is in the process of sheathing his sword when Cole approaches.

He exchanges no words, just points to where his brother and Sunfyre are.

My guess is they will try to frame it as “Aegon was a big dumb dummy and we needed him out of the way”

Aegon

He is so upset no one is listening to him. Can’t say I blame him.

His broken HV 😭 especially in comparison to Aemond’s easy grasp of the language.

“Mom, why are you in my room?”

Alicent has no idea the morning her son has had and her words are most certainly what pushes him over the edge.

The little kitty cat bapping of the pitcher off the table 😭

OH MY STARS AND GARTERS, THE SUNFYRE BOND!!!

Just a happy golden boi giving his rider a chest boop with his snoot. I may never recover from this. This is how I imagine TGC greets his dog when he gets home.

Sunfyre doesn’t need HV commands, he knows what Aegon wants. (Lemme guess Condal, Sunfyre just kind of forgot dragons only understand HV, it’s not because of their bond)

Golden Boi doing his absolute bestest!!! Poor baby has 0 battle experience. What he does have is a drunk rider and a can do attitude!

Maybe drunken dragon fighting was a bad idea?

The golden flames tho!!!!

Cole

Finally using his head for more than something to put his helm on.

It was a good plan. Kudos for the thought that went into it. Unfortunately, no one accounted for Aegon drinking and flying.

Not Gwayne instantly thinking Cole planned on Aegon showing up at the exact worst possible time.

Riding hard to get to Aegon, even as Aemond and Rhaenys fight overhead.

First thing he does when he regains consciousness is resume his search for Aegon.

Falling to his knees when he sees his eldest surrogate son burned and broken after his first taste of battle. He may not fully respect Aegon’s authority, but he still cares for him as a person. As his son.

Sunfyre:

WE WERE ROBBED

We needed more Sunfyre! He has been on screen for like two minutes, but in those two minutes he showed so much personality. The boop! THE BOOP!!!!

He throws up a wing against Vhagar’s flame to protect Aegon.

When they fall, sunfyre curls around Aegon to protect him.

Vhagar

How TF did they manage to hide a mountain of a dragon in the woods?

She is a real one for that nap, though 😂

Aemond said “wait” and she was like “thank FUCK!” And just flopped back down for a snooze.

How is this giant somehow also a master of stealth?

I understand Meyles being able to sneak up on Sunfyre, she is a very fast dragon, but Vhagar is noted to be slow.

But somehow she just manages to pop out of nowhere and snack on other dragons no problem.

Grabbing Meyles by the leg and roasting her. Grandma knows how to handle these hatchlings!

Conclusion:

Can we please have more focus on the dragons in a show about war between dragon riders? They are more than just transportation devices. They have personalities. I WANT TO SEE MORE OF THAT. Not more Syrax and Caraxes. Syrax is less of a dragon and more of a chicken pony, and we have seen the noodle boi so much. Show us the Green dragons FFS. They have less. It should be easier to show all of theirs, but instead we are constantly shown the dragons being used to patrol or transport the blacks. The one other time we see Vhagar it’s from miles away while she is patrolling KL. Also, why are none of these riders practicing evasive tactics? That seems really important. Instead they just fly at one another, clash, lock and bunny kick the shit out of their opponent.

I would just love to see them actually doing something with their dragons other than just using them as horses.

[jesse-cosay]

Kiss in grief

Amelia and Alrick

She had to attend.

Alrick was her fiance. Not quite married, but that had never mattered. He was her childhood best friends. Her partner in crime.

Her everything.

So she had to be there.

She had to attend.

If not for Alrick, then maybe for herself. She'd felt so alone in her grief up until now. Maybe- maybe seeing people- everyone who loved him-

Well. She was willing to try. He would want her to try.

Except this fucking sucked.

Amelia was never the type for formal events. She'd always pull Alrick aside- or he would tell her jokes the whole time. Anything to lighten the tension.  But nothing could lift the weight of this room. Not when there was no Alrick to curl his finger around hers. To mutter about the ridiculous old lady with a hat far too big for her head. Or the children, so clearly excited to see one another. Chattering in the back, completely oblivious to the gaping hole that swallowed all happiness sitting in the front of the room. Right next to Amelia. She only wished she could be so lucky as to ignore it.

"My condolences." He offered his hand to Amelia, shaking it firmly before turning to Alrick's mother beside her.

It was a never-ending line. People greeted Alrick. Greeted Amelia. Apologized for something- something they had nothing to do with. And then they left just as easily.

But the feeling in her heart wasn't something she could walk away from. She couldn't turn from the pain in her chest the way everyone else seemed to.

She leaned over, resting a hand gently on Mrs. Timmens's back. "Excuse me, I just- I need a moment."

Realistically she knew the line would die down. Eventually. But it felt so overwhelming.

All these people who loved Alrick. And not a single one of them was like her. Of course none of them had cared for him the way she had. How could they? Amelia would have known. Would have noticed if Alrick had been that close with someone.

Even Mrs. Timmens- she was his mother. Of course, she was sad. But she'd lost her husband the previous year. Ever since she'd heard the news it was like- it was like she went back to that moment. Losing her husband all over again. Not- not Alrick.

The sadness she felt was for someone else, it was like a repeating nightmare. But Amelia was completely cognizant. Painstakingly aware of her surroundings.

She only wished she could be as blissfully numb.

It was easy to slip away. The crowd that had gathered for Alrick's wake- Amelia didn't even recognize half of them. They didn't recognize her, either. Just friends of the family. Or friends of friends. No one important. No one that could see her and know that this loss was her's to bear.

It was a bit more cathartic to watch from a distance. With every person that had apologized and given her their condolences- she'd realized there was no real comfort in the words or the action. It wasn't for Amelia to feel better. It was Amelia comforting everyone else.

Tiring was the only word to describe it.

Just because she'd known him best- now she had to- to what? Relieve everyone else of that grief? Carry all of it herself? It made her feel sick.

"Excuse me," a woman stood next to her. Face bright red and her eyes glassy. It was the most bent out of shape of anyone Amelia had seen so far. Aside from herself.

"I just- I knew Alrick really well. He'd be so proud of you." Her voice wobbled as she spoke. Straining to get the words out.

"I'm so sorry, I just, could I-?" Without finishing her sentence she pulled Amelia into a tight hug. Squeezing her as if she could pull her inside her heart. Share the swirling emotion inside their hearts.

She sighed as she pulled away. Catching Amelia's eyes in hers. "You're amazing. Never forget how much he loves you, Amanda."

Without a moment to spare, she turned, heading off to some of Alrick's other family members.

This had to be a joke. Some cosmic entity was torturing Amelia. Testing her. What the fuck else could this be?

She could still feel the weight of the hug. The tackiness clinging to her skin, making her itchy. Amelia hissed as she marched off. Determined to put as much distance between her and everything. All of it.

A fat lot of good it did her. Leaving the service early to hide in her apartment the way she'd originally planned.

Her living room floor was just as unforgiving as the relentless apologies. As cold-hearted as the world that has stripped her of all reason and will. And told her to keep on going.

There was a picture frame beside her. She used to keep it on the end table, but there was no point now. Not when it hurt so much to look at.

That didn't stop her from clutching it now. Pressing a kiss to the smiling face in the portrait.

"I never got to say my vows," she sighed. "It was supposed to be you and me forever. Not just me."

"I can't do it if it's just me."

Alrick wouldn't want this for her. He hadn't wanted to die and leave her behind. It was never supposed to be like this.

He'd hate to see what a mess she'd become without him.

[silver-heller]

Hi again! I hope you don't mind me rambling. Also thanks for answering my questions! ^^ (Warning this is really long cause infodump, also a suprise at the end.):

I just dreamed a random dreamed where Wick confronts his sister aka Maristella. And then they reunited after a bit of a talking only of Maristella to syringe over the back his neck in sudden force. Shocking him as he look over to her eyes, they were filled with remorse, something that Wick rarely ever seen. He felt she embraced him tigthly whispering to his ears.

"I am very sorry my dear brother.." She softly whispering. His eyes submerged into to the pit of darkness, sleeping.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Maristella or Maire in my 'au' called Orchids jewelries.(A temporary name)

A sister of Wick who has been gone for a while, she once wrote a letter to Wick and Susannah (another younger sister of Wick)  that she only been out for a 'vacation' to take a break at her job, however stopped sending letters to them causing her relationship to Wick and Susannah to drift away. (She works as a dressmaker. Credits to my moot who helped me.)

In reality she may have half lied about it. The reason why Maristella haven't came back for like who knows how long, it's because she doesn't want to be involved with the family's drama. And yes she's could've have got married and live somewhere else but she didn't have any interest of those.

Lawrence (Wick's twin) asked Maristella for help as he unintentionally got framed, being accused of it. Hence Maristella helped him in a exchange for a deal.

One is keep the secret to prevent anyone knowing especially the family. Lawrence knows the true reason why Maristella left in the first place because they had been kept contact discreetly. (They used code names, and often go to private places, however since Maire doesn't really wanna go back, Lawrence just wrote a letter or chat her over a telephone.)

So basically I just spoiled my old au that needed some reworking to do, and is the family a bit mess up? Yes. Now infodumping for my oc's aka Wick's hc sibblings:

Lawrence Sable:

He is the eldest twin. His personality is stoic, strict and harsh twisted with arrogance since. His father raised him as the 'perfect man' so Lawrence once a young lad done several things what his father had told him just to get the approval, even it's meant breaking his bones. Until Wick came in part. because he think Wick wouldn't go ruined over his way to become a 'perfect' since Wick is too timid. Only for that to demolish when his father chose Wick over him. Hence he grew a resentment towards the family, moreso gaining a rocky relationship towards his own twin. Summary he is the more colder version of Wick.

While he deeply cares for his family, it's no longer the family he once knew or wanted.

(He's fur color is sliver but with brown undertones, blueish sliver eyes. And has more different markings than Wick usually has.)

(He also feel guilty for almost physically hurting Wick in the past due to releasing his anger, but again he kept his feelings locked. Not really having the courage to say sorry, hence Wick felt intimidated around him.)

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Susannah 'Sookie' Sable:

She is based on the Lackadaisy wiki I just read so this is like my hc of her, unlike Lawrence she's much generous and kind to her family even she knew the heinous side of it. She even comforted Wick once in childhood, after he was forced to shoot a duck, the two buried it to somewhere in the garden together. She visits Wick's mansion often to check him up making sure he has good sleep or have eaten foo. She also greets Lacy too. A mother hen type, she simply refuse to leave until Wick takes a break, that goes same for Lawrence.

I like to headcannon Wick called Susannah 'Sookie' is because for her passion at baking, and that some of the family members loves eating one of her pastries, especially cookies. She and Maristella also used to be really close but grew distant.

(Her design is still not decided, but I want to make her a brunnette, she dyed it over her giner hair. Her fur is much warmer brown color.)

She lives separately from her family, she doesn't really want her daugther to witness the ugly side of it really. Yes Sookie has a daugther named Lumi, Sookie used to be married but soon got divorced because of her husband, who was caught having a affair with another woman leaving her heartbroken.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Maristella 'Maire' Sable:

Maristella lastly is the youngest but more older than Charlotte (and probably as tall as Wick lol) She's was a former ballerina but soon retired for reasons, which is pure boredom. Maire soon took interest in outfits that were made by her aunt. So she participate on learning historical fashion and soon became a dressmaker. She's more closer to her auntie instead of her own mother, because she felt pressured or irritated whenever their mother is around.

She's seen as a mischievous lady towards her family mainly her 'mother'  because of her "rebellious" personality but she didn't care. She's the person would do whatever she please, sassy and cunning, willing to use her brains in situations. Their father loved her for her fierceness personality, though wished she was a boy instead.

(As the design, shes a lilac point siamese, her outfit would be elegant. Yet she won't hesitate to show off different types of outfit for experimenting, a bold kind of lady whether you like it or not.)

Relationship wise: Lawrence and her aren't best term of getting along well as usually the tend to insult each other's face, the good thing is they didn't killed each other. Which a lot of people questioned but brush it off as they only see it as normal sibblings bickering. After Maire left for a vacation, she and Lawrence had been in contact for a year dealing with well... Not good matters. (The two both wanted to deny the fact they care eachother, and that the reason why they are helping eachother is for business only.)

Sookie or Susannah, Maire thinks she's a decent woman, a kind one. In the past She felt much pride when her older sister admired her performance as a ballerina, they are close, but not as close as Wicks. Sadly she had to cut her connections to Sookie.

Next is Wick, her relationship with him is close really close. She finds Wick humorous and intelligent, at the flip side she finds Wick too.. Gullible for his own good. (Thus her being overprotective of Wick whenever a woman was flirting at him.) Shame again she distant herself towards her family.

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Questions:

1. I wonder how would Charlotte react to Lawrence, Susannah, and Maristella? Especially if Sookie had told her she's a aunt now. (Aka Lumi is now her neice.)

2. Not a question but here are scenarios what I think would happened if Charlotte meets them:

•If Lawrence meet Charlotte, let's say he'll treat her as the same he treat his family, distant. Unless if she get herself in secrets Lawrence has been hiding then sadly he'll won't spare her life, besides he had to finish what needs to be done. (He already dislike her.)

•If Susannah meets Charlotte she would try her best to be nice to her like she always does. But that doesn't mean won't call out the things Charlotte done, she just wish Charlotte learn good values like being humble, instead whatever their father did. If Charlotte misbehave towards her daugther then she will be mad at her. (Threatening "You hurt my daugther, and I'll make sure you'll never see the day of the light again." Kind of.)

•If Maire ever meets Charlotte after or before she disappeared, then she would absolutely teases and annoy the ever life out of her. Will 100% use her as a bait, revenge for stealing one of her dressing she made.

•••••

Edit: man writing this makes me think they have the most deadly silent akward family meetings or dinners (more akward when Maire left for no reason). They may look like a perfect family in outside, but inside you get a whole mess of a flood.

Also the suprise, I drew some fanart btw. A interpretation of Charlotte, the one in the right (I tried my best so feel free to do some changes.) And featuring Maire, the tall lady wearing a bun is in the left.:

Charlotte if she attempt to talk over Maire:

Eve if she did tried intimidating or insult Maire, it wont work otherwise the result wont be pretty, cause Maire is someone you don't just mess around with. And she's definitely going to use Charlotte weakness as her weapon. (Unless half of the sable sibblings minus Wick and Sookie, declare a war- Not really.)

That's all, thanks for listening my rambling, have a good Day/Night! (Feel free to give feedbacks or anything.)

Oooo, I found them all so interesting! Definitely an intriguing and chaotic collective for sure. I enjoy what you did with each of them to really flesh out the family dynamic.

I imagine Charlotte would be distant with the others, I could see her disliking how cold Lawrence is and Marie's rebellious side. I think she'd be jealous of Sookie though, wanting a family of her own.

Thank you so much for drawing Charlotte, I love it! Charlotte definitely deserves to be put in her place a little.

[ryqoshay]

Tri-Arame Side Story - What Hurts More?

Primary Pairing: N/A Starring: Scythryn, Quentin, Index Secondary Pairing: ShizuKasu Words: 630 Rating: T Fandom: Love Live Nijigasaki, D&D Time Frame: D&D, ??? / Niji, sometime during their 3rd year of HS Prompt: Memory Content Warning: mild reference to battle and other fantasy stuff

---------

Author's Note: Bonus 3rd entry for the 4th.

Also, Scythryn is the callsign used by Anita, Executor is used by Quentin, and nobody in this chapter knows Index's given name.

Summary: Shizuku writes some character stuff for the D&D world she and Setsuna created

---------

“Mama…” The girl whimpered.

The child clutched her favorite stuffed animal as she searched the area.

“Mama…”

She didn’t know what was going on, but she knew something was wrong. Bright, orange, hot light flickered from some of the houses. People the girl knew shuffled around, but all ignored her, despite her asking them for help. Their movements were strange and occasionally some would make scary sounds.

And she couldn’t find her mom.

Suddenly, loud noises came from nearby. Many of the wandering people began to move in the direction of the clammer. And the girl decided to follow.

Around the corner, the girl saw several individuals she didn’t know. They wore heavy armor and were fighting the people of the girl’s town. The girl didn’t understand.

Then, she spotted someone else. Their armor was unique from the others and their weapon bore a long, curved blade. She could not see their face, but something about them made the girl believe things would now be alright.

“Mama…” She stepped toward the group.

---------

“Anita.”

The girl opened her eyes.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Quentin asked.

“Mm…” Anita sniffled before snuggling closer.

“Another bad dream?”

“Mm…”

“Well, you’re alright now. I’m here.” Quentin tilted his head down to plant a kiss atop his daughter’s head.

“…”

It seemed the girl had already fallen back asleep.

---------

“Executor.”

“Hey, Index.” Quentin greeted the psion approaching him.

“How goes Ms. Ani… Scythryn’s training?”

Quentin chuckled. “I thought you remembered everything, yet you’re already forgetting her callsign?”

“Forgive me, sir, but I have known of her for mellenia, yet she has only just recently joined the guild.”

Quentin shrugged and turned his attention back to the young warlock flying around the training area, giggling joyously as though she hadn’t awakened several times the prior night with nightmares.

Heh… young girl… Index theorized she was nearly as old as this world. But this incarnation… was that the right word? appeared young. Young enough in fact that Quentin had adopted her to avoid her appearance might cause. It wasn’t the first time he had taken a long-lived individual under his wing for such purposes, so he was a natural choice among the guild members.

“Say, Dex, a question.”

Index nodded.

“You’re an immortal.”

“As long as I desire to be, yes.”

“And you remember everything, including everything you have lost.”

“Yes.”

“And Anita is an immortal.”

“In a different manner, but yes.”

“And she forgets everything each time she… resets, including everything she has ever loved.”

“Yes, although she seems to remember an attachment to scythes.”

“Which do you believe hurts more?”

Index raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking about her and I, or yourself?”

The recently revived man scoffed and went back to watching.

---------

“Shizuko.”

“Mm?”

“Why do you always do this?”

“What do you mean, Kasumi-chan?”

“Immortality is one of the more popular fantasies. People love reading it because they love imaginig living forever.”

“Yes…”

“So why dose Shizuko have to ruin it by making her reader choose between forgetting loved ones or remembering losing them?”

“It’s a logical consequence of immortality.”

“I don’t want logic, I wanna fantasy about living forever and being happy!”

“Index and Scythryn are happy. They even have a found family with the guild.”

“And this Quentin, Executor guy?”

“He’s not immortal, he was just dead for a century and a half before being revived.”

Kasumi pursed her lips. “I’ll never understand why you gotta torture your characters.”

“Tragedy builds character.”

Kasumi sighed.

“I’ll be sure to write some cuter stuff for Scythryn later. I think you’ll like her. She’s a lot like Ryqo, the character Yuu-sempai played in our D&D game.”

That got Kasumi’s attention. “Ooo, let me know when you’re done.”

Shizuku giggled. “Of course.”

---------

Author's Note Continued: Anita and Quentin are two of my favorite OCs from the D&D themed story I've been writing for years, and never really stopped thinking about even when I started writing LL fanfic instead. Readers of my AUs involving Yohane may have recognized daggers of condensed magic and a fondness for scythes, as I pulled from Anita to create Yohane's fallen angel power set. Quentin is the father of Ryqoshay, whose callsign I've used as my screen name for years, and he is the reason for the Q in the mispelling of Ricochet; her mother, Yuri, is the Y.

I've already written and posted about several of my D&D OCs as I had several of the Niji girls play them in a game DM'ed by Setsuna. And just as my story expanded beyond the game that inspired it, I can see Shizuku and Setsuna continuing to create characters and worldbuild after their game as well. As such, this may be a way for me to slowly introduce my cast of OCs. And if some are received well enough, perhaps I will post some of my original works about them.

In any case, writing this brought back memories; interesting coincidence considering the prompt. And it was fun.

[fff777]

wayv new year's family roleplay season 3 let's gooooo

Did they decide to make this vampire themed beforehand? On account of Xiaojun's obsession with Twilight?

I wonder if 家有威神V is supposed to reference 家有喜事

Wait they got the family names wrong and I got confused lol. Ten was called 叔叔 and Yangyang was called 奶奶 but the introduction cards are saying that Ten is actually 舅舅 and Yangyang is actually 外婆 so they're both related to Dejun and not to Kun.

Dejun is so committed to the bit XD He's ready to bite on Kun's neck any time of day >3

OH RIGHT that means Hendery is half human half vampire X'D

Ten saying the TRUTH when no one else will acknowledge it X'D He's the kid calling out the Emperor for being naked X'D

Ok so everybody in this family is some percent vampire except for Kun lol.

...Dejun always ready for a bite

Yangyang: dudududu....dudududu....

Sicheng: Hey guys!! What are y'all weirdos doin?!

I feel like the guys recorded their parts first and then Sicheng was asked to film his own part to fit whatever they were saying.

Ok so the skull is clarified to be 叔叔 lol

Sicheng: I hope people older give me red envelopes

Kissu X'D

Wait now Yangyang is calling himself 奶奶 I'm so confused y'all

Hendery's lightning fast speed looking like having spasms X'D

They're really just improvising this entire thing X'D What is this fight

I had to look this up but Twilight's Chinese name is 暮光之城 (City of Dusk I guess?) and Kun's coming is 暮光之神 (God of Dusk, where God is coming from Weishen)

It took them 10.5 minutes to get to the actual topic of this video which is LUNAR NEW YEAR

Hendery: Aren't we catching werewolves these days? Yangyang: Werewolves are our neighbours :< Hendery: Oh right, we're in an equal society now Good save

Dejun is going so hard on this wife cosplay and Kun has no choice but to respond in kind lmao

Kun getting so antsy about putting on the eye mask because he's surrounded by vampires XD

The way they cut right to commercial card after this lol

This is a really tough game ^^;;

Dejun: It won't help even if i put the envelope right back on top of your spatula Hendery: *Immediately scoops one* Dejun:

世上只有媽媽好 party ver.

Kun: What about me :<

Yangyang telling Dejun to watch his posture lmfao

LMAO the editors played Dejun and didn't give him fun eye colours

Guys complaining about how Ten wins every game lmfao

They gave Hendery a best of three chance and he still lost X'D

Hendery: Kore wa destiny desu ka

LMFAO all of them overreacting to the garlic fried chicken XD Dejun and Yangyang and Ten are all omg nooooo garlic *o* and Hendery's all split because his vampire side can't handle it but his human side likes it.

Kun debating with Dejun about whether Dejun would still suck his blood if he ate garlic fried chicken. Dejun was like yeah I could wait and then suck your blood and Kun was like do you have to suck my blood? And Hendery was like what use do we have for you if we can't suck your blood? and Kun started singing 這就是愛

According to Dejun lore, kisses mean nothing to vampires and sucking blood is the highest form of affection and romance X'D Dejun vampire lore

Kun's human greeting of waving being ridiculed by the vampires

Hendery said he was 35 years old but he's wearing a school uniform lmfao

Dejun being like "I thought we talked about the fact that I would remarry after you died?" Poor Kun lol.

Dejun casually dropping that he only loves Kun for his blood and not for him X'D Casually breaking up during new year's, what an omen

Yangyang realizing that Hendery is still in school uniform lmao

Yangyang casually dropping that Dejun isn't his daughter and that she was adopted?!?!?!

Kun going "來~爸爸幫你"...I feel like the fans who are into Kun husband/baby dad will LOVE this lmfao

Vampire mom Dejun is a WayV fanwoman lmfao

Vampire uncle Ten sucked the blood of all of the WayV members when they visited his restaurant and he liked human Ten's blood the most XD

Doing a little twirl

Dejun: 我忍了好久 Ok whenever anyone says that you know shit's going down XD

LMFAO as they're going out to Uncle Ten's restaurant to eat, Dejun reminded Hendery to only shake/jerk one time so that he doesn't spasm X'D The way he says this as they're going out so casually and normally XD They love the roleplay don't they

Ah yes roleplay draw again >3

LOL so they didn't bring up the vampire roleplay out of nowhere, it was decided

Ok yeah there were some details that only came up once or twice in the roleplay because naturally you can't fit everything in

Ten thinks it's sexy that when the mom is hungry, she'll bite the dad >3 >3 >3 he absolutely knows what's up

Ten: How do vampires die... Yangyang: ...By sunlight? idk dude

[unfoundhoney]

a sister’s sacrifice ; part three ↠

↠ platonic!c!sleepy bois inc x fem!reader , platonic!c!tubbo x fem!reader ; angst just angst

↠ masterlist

↠ part one ; part two ; part three ;

↠ @leafyturtle @basheverythingyesterday @terribletoothbat @bestioe @junoblad3 @machiebach @ok-honey

when considering the deaths of the people on the dream smp server, yours is the hardest

schlatt was detested by all when he’d died

few people still truly cared for wilbur when he met his end; the man he once was was long gone by then

but you

you never changed

you were a constant for so many & immovably kind to the rest

selfless, giving, caring

even when you just wanted an escape, you came to the aid of your brothers

you gave the ultimate sacrifice & paid the price

everyone mourns you

when the battle is won & dream locked away indefinitely

once everyone has come down from the high of freeing themselves from dream’s reign, the server goes into a state of grieving

there’s no denying your death

they all saw the message in chat

you’re dead

those that were close to you took it hard

niki was narrowly stopped from burning down the bakery you encouraged her to open and helped build

eret put her emotions into work on a memorial in their museum for you

even under the egg’s control, bad & ant put the eggpire aside for you

of course, those who took it the hardest is your family

when ghostbur learns of your death, he’s distraught

he doesn’t quite know how to handle the information

he protects your home & only allows people to enter when he supervises them

tommy took a while to move past his anger & deal with the fact that you’re gone

tubbo ran off to start snowchester

he chose to distract himself rather than truly process his emotions, even if you’d always done your best to break that habit of his

now that you’re not around, who’s to stop him from letting himself be numb to it all?

techno is another one of your family members who chose to barely acknowledge your passing

he became somehow more monotonous & emotionless

and phil

...

there’s no word for a parent who loses a child

wilbur was gone & of course it messed phil up to be the one to take will’s last life but by that point his son was gone

but you

you’d always been such a genuinely good person

phil did so little for you as a father

he was so absent

he never apologized to you for that

he never told you how much he loves & appreciates you & everything you’ve done to keep their family together when he couldn’t be bothered

it’s a few hours after he received the news from ranboo that all the guilt for everything he had ever put you through hit him

he broke down in his kitchen while trying to distract himself by organizing his cupboards

but all he could think about was you

you & your never ending kindness & compassion

he was never a father to you

yet you never hated him

why couldn’t you have hated him?

it would hurt less to lose you if you hated him; it’s what he deserves

he’s unworthy of your love

but he can only dwell so long on you

you are given a proper funeral

you’re buried by the seashore, somewhere between l’manberg and tommy’s abandoned vacation homes in an open field

the sever members plant so many flowers, your gravesite becomes a flower field

but soon, life goes on

it will only hurt for longer to draw out the mourning period

it would do no good for anyone

besides, you wouldn’t want the server to be sad for your sake

techno supposes it’s for the best that you died

he does his best to move on, filling his days with resource gathering and upgrading his tools, weapons, and armor while trying to think through his emotions logically

as much as he liked you

as much as everyone liked you, you were too good

you were the best of them

fate is not kind to heroes

“hello!”

technoblade is not an easy man to sneak up on, let alone scare

the greeting itself isn’t want startles him

it’s turning toward the voice to lock eyes with you

you who is dead

techno is not proud of the sound he made when he saw you but you of all people wouldn’t make fun of him for it

he just stares at you, slowly realizing what’s happened

you look desaturated, the color drained from your clothes

your skin is grey & almost translucent

you’re a ghost

“y/n.”

“hello! who are you?”

techno tells no on one of your ghost form

he even keeps the rest of the server a secret from you

he leads you to your old home & leaves you there w/ ghostbur

he hopes your and ghostbur’s combined amnesia will keep you out of harm’s way i.e. the rest of the server

he visits you occasionally but mostly leaves you be

you live happily with ghostbur for a while

he is very glad to have you back

his memory is nearly as bad as yours, so the story of the server & what happened to you when you were alive is only given to you in bits & pieces that are near impossible to fit together

it was only a matter of time before someone came to visit your house

“...y/n?”

it’s tubbo who finds you first

or he finds your ghost

(tubbo) y/n! oh my god! you’re a ghost! you’ve come back!

(you) hello! *whispers* ghostbur, who is this?

(ghostbur, whispering obviously) that’s tubbo, one of your other brothers i’ve told you about

(you, whispering) oh, right

(tubbo) how long have you- oh, this is incredible! i have to tell tommy! he’s been so sad since you died; he’ll be so glad to see you!

tubbo messages tommy, who is skeptical but reluctantly comes to your house anyway

but there you are

your ghost anyway

which is good enough, honestly

(tommy) y/n!

you catch him in a hug easily, even if you’ve never met him before

(tommy) you’re alive!

(you) no i’m not. i’m a ghost!

techno happens to check in on you when tubbo & tommy are there

bad news for technoblade: you’d told them about techno leading you here

meaning: tommy knows techno hid you from him & everyone else

needless to say, he is not too happy about that

(tommy) you hid her! you kept her away from us!

(techno) tommy, you have to understand-

(tommy) i don’t have to understand shit! you hid her from us! you lied to us!

(techno) tommy-

(tommy) you kept her from everyone! you’re selfish and you’re a liar and you’re horrible and-

(techno) i did it to protect her! she’s been hurt enough protecting others; it’s our turn to protect her. the only way we can do that is by leaving her alone

(tommy) she’s my sister

(techno) your sister is dead, tommy. for once in her life, let her have peace

tommy gives up on techno & goes to you instead

(tommy) y/n! y/n, we can bring you back. we can revive you. well, dream can revive you but he’s in prison so he has to do what we say so we can bring you back. we can be a family again. don’t you want to come back?

(you) ...no

that

...

that isn’t what tommy was expecting

(tommy) what?

(you) if alive y/n comes back, i won’t exist anymore. and i’ve only just got here. i don’t want to go yet

(tommy) don’t you understand how much y/n means to me? y/n has to come back. she has to. she’s so important. not just to me but to, um... tubbo as well! right, tubbo? don’t you want y/n back?

tommy looks to tubbo for some backup but the shorter boy looks away

(tubbo) i think we need to let y/n go, tommy

the betrayal that fills tommy’s chest is soon gone as he locks eyes with techno

tommy knows techno is right

you’re too much of a good person

you’re too willing to sacrifice yourself for others

even as a ghost your kindness is blinding

this server will only drain you of everything you have yet again

he will drain you of everything you are

he’s just tried to convince you to cease to exist to bring back the former version of yourself

(you) i’m sorry. it’s just- i’ve heard there are these really pretty blue flowers in the swamp biome that i haven’t got to see yet-

(tommy) no. it’s fine. i’m sorry. i-... i should go.

tommy leaves your house & tubbo goes with him

even if tubbo caught on a bit sooner to techno’s reasoning, he’s still concerned at his friend’s sudden change in character

(tubbo) tommy... are you alright?

(tommy) ...i really want her back

(tubbo) i do, too. but she’s gone

(tommy) she doesn’t have to be

tubbo can’t argue with that

(tommy) but... maybe it’s for the best

(tubbo) really?

(tommy) yeah.

(tubbo) but just earlier you were telling me about your plan to get the revive book from dream

(tommy) techno’s right, tubbo. all everyone- myself included- has ever done to y/n is take. and she’s given everything

(tubbo) because she loved us

(tommy) as much as she loved us and as much as we loved her... the only thing we’ve ever brought her is pain. i think now... now is her time to rest.

(tubbo) ...that’s very pog champ of you, big man

tommy had planned to visit dream as many times as it took to get the revive book location off of him so he could revive you, but now he’s accepted that he needs to move on

he needs to move on from you & dream & everything dream has put him through

he decides to pay one last visit to dream, put him behind him, & never look back

he’s ready to start a new chapter in his life, one without dream

and the first one without you

but then he’s locked in the prison

two weeks pass

nearing three weeks & tommy still isn’t allowed out of dream’s cell

he’s irritated and annoyed and most of all he’s scared

but he can’t let dream know he’s still afraid of him, that’s why he pisses dream off enough to the point of being beat to death

tommy begs him to stop

but then he’s gone

everything is dark

black

empty

nothing

is this what death is?

conscious in absolute nothingness?

tommy’s feet feel the ground beneath him

his senses come back to him

it’s still dark but he feels as though he can see again

where is he?

heaven?

no, probably hell

or maybe neither?

both...?

what the hell happened?

the first thing to break the silence is the voice tommy has known since he was an infant

the voice of the person who raised him

the voice of the person who has always been there for him

the voice of the person who he has finally let go of

your voice

saying one simple word

“tommy?”

[carlisles-girl]

OMG UR CAIUS FIC WAS SO GOOD COULD YOU DO SOMETHING AB ARO PLEASE

a/n: Thank you so much! I’m very excited to write for Aro, he’s one of my favourite characters, more so because of Michael Sheen’s performance. I put a slight reference to something in this, you might catch it if you know other projects Michael Sheen has been in, but you might not, and that’s alright. Hope you enjoy <3

another a/n: I did put one or two feminine terms in this work, such as ‘mia regina’ which is ‘my queen’ in Italian, so do skip over it or replace it with something else if you’d like. I love writing this type of material in the middle of my classes, it adds so much adrenaline to not get caught.

-

Aro Volturi With A Human Mate

-

Instead of being angry and frustrated like Caius, Aro was more excited.

Like as if he was getting ready for a big party.

A human for a mate was inevitable for some vampires, of course, but Aro didn’t expect to be included in the some.

He was excited since it was rare for such high profile vampires to socialize with humans.

Aro often gushed to his brothers, excited to meet you, but also for them to meet you.

He wanted to host a ball for your welcome.

But Marcus noted that it would probably be slightly frightening for you to be in a room full of vampires.

Most of the vampires would look at you as if you were some sort of a snack.

Because it Marcus’ comment, Aro assumed it would be a greater choice to send an invitation to a tour of the castle.

Free of cost, of course.

When you had received the invitation, you were beyond excited.

An invitation to a tour of an ancient castle with endless legends, for free?

Absolutely.

The tour was the next day, so of course you were slightly nervous.

When the tour commenced, a very pretty woman named Heidi lead the tour group.

She began to speak of secrets of the castle, as well as secret corridors and legends.

Some things a normal tour guide would most likely have no idea about.

Heidi then looked in your direction, and smiled brightly at you.

“It’s very lovely here. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Just when she had finished her sentence, she opened the doors where there were three men sitting in thrones, and what seemed to be 4 guards.

The man who sat in the middle, greeted everyone and began speaking greatly of the castle.

He had only stopped when he motioned for your tour guide, Heidi, to come forward.

She did as told, and held her hand out towards him.

You would have thought it was to greet him, but it seemed like he was concentrated, or zoned out.

“Magnifico! I will get Demetri to escort them.” (Translation: “Magnificent! I will get Demetri to escort them.”

A man who you assumed was Demetri, walked in your direction.

“Come with me, all will be alright, rest assured. However, do not look behind you.”

You went with him, doing as he said, but immediately turned around when the rest of the tour began screaming.

“What the hell was that?!”

Demetri just grabbed your wrist and brought you upstairs.

“Just stay in here, I’ve been instructed to keep you under my eye. Aro will explain everything to you.”

“Aro?”

“The man who sat in the middle throne.”

You nodded, and decided to sit on one of the window seats.

You wanted to ask Demetri as many questions as you wanted to, but you didn’t want to bother him, or disrupt him from his job.

When the door had opened and Demetri bid his farewells, you had turned around and saw Aro.

“You must be Y/n, correct?”

“Yeah, and you’re Aro?”

“I am, I assume you have a good amount of questions?”

You nodded, and Aro moved swiftly but smoothly towards the opposite side of the window seat.

“May I?”

“Of course.”

He sat opposite to you, and smiled slightly at you.

“There’s no need to be afraid of me, or the others. You’re the most safe you could ever be in the castle. I promise you, I will keep you safe.”

“May I ask why the rest of the tourists were screaming when I left?”

“I sense that that question should be answered later, appropriately.”

You were slightly frightened as to what the final answer would be, it could be anything.

Perhaps there was a reenactment of the past after you had been escorted, one of the tourists got pushed and the rest screamed since one of them fell, or the worst:

They were murdered.

“I feel like I already know what happened.”

“I sense that you do know, too. I will tell you everything in a moment. But for now, would you care to lend me your hand?”

You trusted Aro, though you were positive your ancestors were screaming from above or below not to trust him.

You held your hand out in front of him, and before he held your hand in his own, he asked for permission or something else.

“I want you to think of the happiest memory you have stored in your mind, I will describe it to you. I will not see anything else besides the things you want to show me, unless I have your permission.”

You thought of a memory, and then placed your hand in Aro’s palm.

He covered the back of your hand with the palm of his other hand, then he began telling you small details of your chosen memories you had even forgotten about.

When he was finished, he brought his head up from looking down, and smiled at your face of bewilderment.

“That is so cool! Is that like your superhero power?”

Aro smiled widely at your interest in his gift, and began explaining what his was.

“I have a gift, it’s called tactile telepathy. I can read everyone’s thoughts and memories with a single touch. The others in this coven have multiple different gifts, they help keep us safe.”

“So you’re all like superheroes?”

“Vampires, darling.”

After that, Aro enjoyed seeing your memories whenever you two were apart for some sort of time.

Especially say you were having a difficult time attempting to explain something to him, he would hold your hand and immediately understand what you were trying to say.

“I understand you, cara mia. I always will.”

And he was right, he understands you in every way possible.

Aro memorized your body language on how you react to different things, as well as your facial expressions.

When you’re uncomfortable with something, he will do absolutely everything in his power to make you comfortable.

Aro will burn down the entire world for you.

When it’s time for you to go to sleep, you best believe that Aro set up the most lavish and comfortable room for you.

The best and most comfortable bed, of course.

You lay down on his chest, and he brushes the hair out of your face, admiring your tired eyes looking back at him.

“Would you like for me to read to you, dearest?”

You nodded your head, and Aro would get up from wherever he was seated, swiftly retrieve a book, lay back down next to you, and begin reading.

He loved having you hold his hand while he read, it lets him see what you’re imagining the scene that he’s reading to you.

And when you fell asleep while he was reading, he would be so very content.

You curled up next to him, sound asleep on his chest.

Aro adored seeing what you were dreaming.

He loved how humans brains worked while they were sleeping, keeping your mind entertained with multiple little scenarios.

When you woke up, however, Aro would prefer to have you describe your dreams, if you remembered them.

He loved to learn more about humans, especially in the modern age.

And you loved to learn more about vampires, especially in the ancient times.

Aro would often tell you stories of each coven he encountered, his old family and friends, and his past human life.

As much as he wants you to be changed into a vampire like the rest, he can’t help but smile whenever you got slightly nervous around him, stuttering over your words, and hiding your face with your hands out of embarrassment.

He pays attention to little details about you.

Especially your eyes.

Even the shade of your eyes stops him from changing you. Your eyes wouldn’t be as unique anymore, they’d be the same red as everyone else’s.

“You have the most magnificent shade of colour in your eyes, mia regina. I simply cannot get enough of them.”

Being absolute best friends with Demetri.

But wherever Demetri was, Felix wasn’t too far behind.

You three are like a troublemaker trio, always causing trouble and pulling pranks on different members of the guard.

Never Jane or Alec, though. Unless it was a scheduled board game night or something along the lines.

Which Alec loved to take away different players senses, allowing him to cheat in the games you’d play.

He doesn’t do it all the time, though.

Marcus was a lot more welcoming towards you, perhaps more than anyone else.

Whenever Aro couldn’t, he’d show you different areas of the castle you hadn’t seen yet, and would give you wonderful pieces of advice along the way.

“Remember to stay true to yourself, never let anyone think for you.”

Aro will spoil you insanely.

If you mention a specific piece of clothing even once, you better expect that when you wake up the next morning, Aro has an elegantly wrapped package placed at the foot of your bed with a note written in fine handwriting.

“Mia amato, I have seen you speak of this article of fabric, and I have gone out of my way to make sure you have every little thing you admire. I need you to be the happiest you can possibly be. Please accept my gift, and meet me by the gardens by noon. I’ll see you then. Cordialmente, Aro.”

You two have annual walks throughout the garden, usually during golden hour. The sun still above, but setting at the same time, making it seem like Aro was made of a trillion Tiffany Yellow Diamonds.

He loved finding a flower that suited your mood for the day, and putting it behind your ear.

“My beautiful.”

You two often walked either arm in arm, or hand in hand, but sometimes you would hold him closer with your arm wrapped around his waist, your head leaning on his side or shoulder.

Often times, when the moon is visible, you would slow dance together, looking at each other with smiles on your faces, just appreciating each other’s presence.

Usually, Aro would come back into the castle around 2 in the morning, carrying your sleeping self up to your shared room, after you had fallen asleep on his shoulder while sitting in the garden.

The rest of the kings and guards would be predominantly more happy than from before you had arrived.

You had given Aro something to look forward to after trials and mountains of work, something he didn’t have for hundreds of years.

Though, Caius was still slightly jealous of you.

You had practically stolen one, if the not the most, needed member of the vampire world. Aro was nearly as focused on you than he was on trials and legislature.

He’d warm up to you eventually.

At least, you hoped.

Speaking of trials, you wanted to sit in and watch the trials, to see what it was about, and how it worked.

You knew the most of it, of course, Aro had already told you. But you wanted to see it live.

Aro was quick to say no, he didn’t want you to get hurt, or worse, killed.

He understood what would happen to him if his mate was killed, Marcus was the example. He couldn’t even bear the thought of you not being by his side.

Though, you owning the key to his heart, convinced him to let you watch, letting both Jane and Alec stay on either side of you, protecting you if anything were to go wrong.

You would usually sit on Aro’s lap, and then the throne when he had to see what was truly going on by using his gift.

Jane usually stood on the left of the throne, and Alec on the right.

Mainly since Caius sat on the throne in the left, and Jane loved to torture the criminals.

He loved the front seat view.

Constant look backs of reassurance to make sure that you’re alright.

Nearly always having your hand in his.

Forehead kisses.

Constantly bringing the back of your hand up to his lips.

Getting the absolute best care in the world, health wise especially.

When Aro proposed, it was in the bedroom the both of you share, and he was reading some poetry to you.

All was going swell, and then he got to one page.

“I can write no stately poem

As a prelude to my lay;

From a poet to a poem

I would dare to say.

For if of these fallen petals

One to you seem fair

Love will waft it till it settles

On your hair.

And when wind and winter harden

All the loveless land.

It will whisper of the garden,

You will understand.”

At the end, you were leaned up closer to him, looking at him in awe.

He closed the book, and placed it aside gracefully, before leaning slightly closer to you. Placing his hands overs yours.

“Do you remember who wrote that, cara mia?”

“I do. That’s Oscar Wilde, right?”

“That’s right. There’s so much I want to say to you, especially in this particular moment, but I don’t think there’s enough words to express my love and affection towards you. I’ve known you for a little while, and I can feel the bond between us, and I know you can feel it, too. The universe has guided us together, and I am so very thankful for every second we have spent together, and I’m even more thankful for the rest of eternity we have. However, I am the most thankful of the fact that I have the most gorgeous human as a mate. I love you so much, anima mia. Will you do me the best thing that could ever happen to me in my thousands of years, and marry me?”

You said yes, obviously, who wouldn’t?

You leaned over to press your lips against his, as he held one side of your face with one hand, and the other hand slid a ring on your ring finger.

While Aro wanted an extremely lavish wedding, with all the diamonds in the world, you wanted something more of a homely essence.

So you compromised, and had a bit of both.

Aro invited nearly every vampire to the wedding, wanting to show you off in every way he could.

The Denali’s, Cullens, Irish coven, everyone was invited.

Except for the Romanian coven, Vladimir and Stefan. Not trusting them to be in your presence.

The wedding was held in the garden, the arch where Aro stood had your favourite flowers intertwining around it, with diamonds pressed in the centre of each individual flower.

Demetri walked you down the isle, smiling proudly when he handed you over to Aro.

Proud that his leader had finally found true love, and that one of his best friends is finally where they need to be.

After the official wedding ceremony, the rest of the night and day were spent smiling and showing off each other to the guests.

When the night ended, it was finally time for you to be changed to a vampire.

Aro sat by the bed were sitting on, making sure that you were absolutely ready to be converted to a vampire for the rest of eternity.

“Are you ready, my darling?”

You nodded your head, and Aro took one final look into your coloured eyes, attempting to remember every small detail of them.

Aro then moved your hair away from your neck, before placing his lips over where he would finally bite down and turn you immortal.

“Just say when, and I’ll see you after.”

[lady-literature]

Found Family

holy shit did this one get way out of hand. Don’t expect them all to be this long because hot damn this is a monster compared to literally everything else but it just wouldn’t stop

(should I have expected this? probably. we all know how I am about found family.)

anyway enjoy 4.5k words ig

based on this post | @maribatmarch-2k21 | find more here

***

When Marinette had been chosen to intern with Monsieur Wayne’s PA, she hadn’t been expecting anything special. Sure, the Waynes were an odd breed and generally considered strange, but Marinette hadn’t actually expected to have much contact with them—if any at all.

She was here to earn credit for her business degree.

Instead, she has… well. She thinks she’s been somehow inducted into the Wayne family, mostly on accident and kind of as a joke.

That is, until it very much wasn’t.

***

Her first mistake, she supposes, was being too good at her job.

Marinette is an old hand at keeping track of multiple moving parts and riding herd on stubborn people who’d otherwise be too distracted or goofing off. (She was the Court’s leader for more than just being the latest in a long line of Ladybugs, after all.)

After the first two days shadowing Selina—“please, darling. Ms Kyle is so formal”—and learning the broad strokes of the job, Marinette felt confident enough to dig her nails in and get to work. Selina spent most of her time dedicated to international tasks and arranging Monsieur Waynes’ private affairs—all of which was highly classified and not discussed with Marinette—so she turned her attention to inter-company affairs.

Her first order of business was personally meeting with as many people in managerial positions as she could get. Not a requirement for the job per se, but these were people she’d have to interact with often and Maman had always stressed the importance of building connections in the workplace.

“People,” she would say, “are far more willing to do what you want them to when you’ve endeared yourself to them.”

So Marinette takes that advice and spends her breaks and lunches charming employees and giving baked goods to security guards and learning the names of the cleaning crew. She doesn’t speak to the department heads, because Selina handles their correspondences, but everyone else is free game as far as she’s concerned.

She becomes a well-recognized face astoundingly quickly.

***

Marinette probably should’ve seen the rumors coming.

It’s common practice in not only the Wayne family, but in most business conglomerates, for the children to quickly rise through the ranks of their company—if not just handed a high position right off the bat.

It took barely a month before the eldest was all but running Human Resources, and the second was placed as Head of Security practically out of nowhere. Monsieur Drake is the youngest (and most terrifyingly calculated) CEO to ever hold Wayne Enterprises, even if he does share the title with his father.

The other three are still too young or have yet to express an interest in the company, but people say it’s only a matter of time.

The track record speaks for itself, even if Marinette wishes it didn’t.

As a girl who’d come mostly out of nowhere and found herself with far more divisive sway in the company than she had any right to, it’s no wonder everyone thinks she’s some sort of secret Wayne finally coming out of hiding.

Marinette had nearly choked on her coffee when Selina dropped the bomb of that particular tidbit of company gossip.

“Most think you’ve been unofficially adopted,” Selina tells her, looking far too amused for Marinette’s liking. “Seeing as you’re too old for official avenues now.”

Marinette looks up warily from the schedule she’s rearranging. Selina had all but shoved the thing at her a month ago when she started suggesting more efficient ways of managing the CEOs’ valuable time.

“Only most? Does that mean the rest have common sense?”

Selina’s grin widens even further, if that’s possible, and Marinette regrets her question even before the older woman starts speaking.

“Oh, of course not!” she laughs delightedly. “The rest are hoping to hear news of wedding bells. It’s high time someone swept a Wayne off the market, don’t you think?”

***

“So you’re the new little sister I keep hearing about.”

Marinette stares up through narrowed eyes at the brightly smiling Dick Grayson. In her stomach, there are already the beginnings of resignation starting to form. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you!”

This man is going to bring her nothing but trouble. She can tell.

***

Dick takes a liking to her. And she, against her better judgment, finds herself doing the same to him.

It’s a little hard not to, if she’s being honest. He’s bright and bubbly and brings her bagels during his morning break without her ever having asked.

It takes practically no time at all before Marinette considers him a friend, relaxing when he’s near and laughing openly at his ridiculous jokes. Despite being the head of HR, he’s not great at the whole ‘professional’ thing and often employees will walk by to find him draped across a chair or balancing precariously on the edge of her desk while she tries and fails to get some work done while he’s around.

It really doesn't help all of the ‘Marinette is a Wayne’ rumors running around. Especially when Dick starts pointedly calling her every variation of ‘little sister’ that he can think of just to annoy her (and, she knows, because he thinks the entire situation hilarious).

***

Three weeks after befriending Dick, Selina all but shoves her into Monsieur Drake’s office and, in no uncertain words, says, “He’s your problem now.”

Marinette blinks at what she can describe as nothing other than a disaster area and just… sighs.

Tim blinks back at her.

The motion is somehow both completely blank and filled with an uncomfortable amount of knowing at the same time. There is also, she notices, a frankly ludicrous amount of concealer caked beneath his eyes and more coffee cups scattered on every flat surface than Marinette has ever seen in her life.

She knows his schedule like the back of her hand seeing as she spends hours of her day pouring over it to make sure everything runs smoothly. He has no prior engagements for the next three hours.

“You’re not going to take a nap just because I ask, are you?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

She nods, having expected the answer; her phone was already at her ear before he even finished speaking. “Hey, Dick!” she greets, sounding brighter than she feels at the moment, and watches as Tim stiffens in front of her. “Yeah, no. I was just wondering if you’re busy right now.” She pauses. “Oh, good! Can you come up to Tim’s office for me? Yeah, I need you to knock him out so I can fix his dumpster fire of an office.”

Tim has since started waving his hands frantically at her, panic setting in behind his eyes.

Marinette stares at him, unmoved. “Thanks, Dick! You’re the best!”

The silence after she hangs up is deafening.

“I don’t know if I should be impressed by the ease you’re manipulating me or pissed off that you’re doing it in the first place.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Does your decision have any bearing on my future employment?”

His eyes squint. “…No.”

Marinette shrugs, mind already whirling with what she’ll need to get done first and calculating how long she’ll likely have to get it done. “Then I think you should skip right over both of those and land on resignation as quickly as possible, Monsieur, because you’re going to have to get used to it regardless.”

It’s silent for a long moment, and she worries for just a second that she’s severely crossed some sort of line. Then Tim bursts out laughing instead of, you know, firing her like he probably should have.

“Oh, yeah. You’re going to fit right in here.”

Marinette doesn’t ask where the ‘here’ is. She’s pretty sure she already knows.

***

It takes ten days for Marinette to wrangle Tim’s life into something resembling order. His office is clean and organized to his liking. She’s developed a system of filing so that all paperwork goes through her and is quickly sorted into ‘can be handled by Marinette’, ‘forge his signature and tell him about it later’, and ‘actually important enough to have Tim read through’.

His schedule is the most efficient it’s ever been and Marinette is quickly honing the skill of getting him properly dressed and out of his office in under thirty minutes. (Dick is, thankfully, a great teacher and has little to no qualms about giving her the key to all his little brother’s weaknesses.)

Selina stares at her when Marinette all but drags Tim from his office, a folder tucked neatly under his arm and the sugary monstrosity of a caffeinated beverage she’s bribed him with in her own, with a whole ten minutes to spare before his meeting with the Board.

“My dear,” she says solemnly, “you are positively magic.”

She doesn’t even look up from where she’s simultaneously wrangling Tim’s hair into submission and laying his tie down flat. “You have no idea.”

***

She knows Tim is capable of professionality. She’s seen the cool facade he pulls up in front of the Board members and the kind but impersonal smile he uses on the employees of Wayne Enterprises. (He is not the Ice Prince of the Wayne family, but Marinette believes he should have some equally ruthless sounding title.) He is aloof and sharp and every inch the businessman people praise him to be.

She’s seen it. And yet… 

“Monsieur. Why are all the Lexcorp contracts I gave you done in crayon?”

Tim doesn’t stop messing with his Rubix cube or even look up at her when he says, “Cause deadbeat fathers don’t deserve the respect of a pen.”

Marinette is very tired. She does not have time for this. “What are you talking about?”

“Lex is a bitchass absentee dad and I live to inconvenience him.”

“What about inconveniencing me?” she all but whines. “I can’t hand him these!”

That does make Tim look up at her, eyes wide with false innocence and mouth pouting up at her. “But sister dearest, I’m your little brother. It’s my job to inconvenience you.”

Growling in frustration is probably an inappropriate reaction to the situation.

But, Marinette thinks, so is the fact that both of the Waynes she associates with regularly seem hellbent on convincing the world that she too, is a Wayne, so.

(Is this how Alya felt dealing with the twins? Cause if so, Marinette takes back every joke she ever made—little siblings are a bitch.)

***

She meets Damian without warning.

Honestly, she never really expected to meet him at all but, well.

She finds him in Monsieur Wayne’s office, sitting at his father’s desk and doing something that she thinks is vaguely illegal, but she’s not about to tell her Boss a dozen times over how to parent his children.

Damian is a near-perfect copy of his father with darker skin and calculating green eyes. There’s also a more potent aura of danger around the child than there is around his father, like Damian hasn’t yet learned how to hide behind his public persona as his father had.

Or, Marinette looks at the teen thoughtfully, perhaps he just chooses not to.

“Monsieur Wayne,” she greets. Children like to be treated like adults, she knows, and Marinette doesn’t think this one is any different. “Selina hadn’t told me you’d be in the office today.”

“I don’t run my schedule by her,” he says flatly. A response she expected considering Dick’s stories.

“Of course not,” she agrees.

He finally deigns to look up at her and something flits across his expression, too fast for her to pick up on it. “Are those for Father? Bring them here, I’ll deal with them in his absence.”

Marinette raises her eyebrow. “I’m not sure that’s wise Monsieur.”

Damian scowls and sticks his hand out. “I’m perfectly capable of forging Father’s signature. Give them here.”

She does not move and, instead, lets her lips quirk up into the smile she’s been fighting since she stepped in here.

“I don’t doubt it,” she tells him, and she doesn't. Forgery seems exactly like the kind of skill a child who broke into the CEO’s office of a multi-billion dollar company would have. “But you’ll find that all forging of signatures has been finished for the day and that these,” she shakes the sheaf of papers lightly, “actually require your father’s attention.”

He snorts disbelievingly and it says a lot about Marinette’s life up until now that the blatant display of disrespect doesn’t piss her off but instead reminds her of Chloé and of the fact that she still needs to reschedule their spa day. It's been too long since they spent time together in person.

“Well,” she pauses and eyes the papers thoughtfully. “‘Requires’ in the sense that its information needed to trounce the Board when they start spouting off greedy bullshit about cutting corners on our humanitarian efforts. I’m not sure how much of it is actually useful for anything besides that.” She shrugs. “But homework is homework, yes?”

That gets her a thoughtful once-over. His hand lowers and he then turns back to whatever he’s messing with on his father’s computers.

“Very well,” he concedes. “Father will be back in approximately thirteen minutes. You can leave the papers and I’ll inform him of their… importance.” He smirks, but it’s more like he’s letting her in on a joke than anything else.

Marinette smiles back as she sets the folder on the desk, feeling, oddly, like she’s passed some sort of test.

***

The day after, both Dick and Tim are waiting for her with what looks like an entire bakery laid out in her workspace.

“Uh,” she says eloquently, setting her purse down on her chair because there’s not a single open space on her desk not filled with some kind of pastry. “What’s all this?”

She looks up to find neither Dick nor Tim has stopped staring at her since she walked in. “We heard you met Damian yesterday,” Dick starts warily, like he’s scared of her reaction.

The response does not abate her confusion. 

“Yes, I did,” she says slowly. “That does not explain all… this.” She waves a hand, trying to encompass them as well as the state her desk is in.

The two brothers share a look.

“It’s a bribe,” Tim tells her simply and Marinette is taken aback for all of a second before her eyes suddenly narrow.

Dick cuts in hastily before she can say anything. “It’s more of an apology, really. For Damian’s behavior.”

But Marinette is confused and frustrated and just a bit offended by the apparent not-bribe at this point. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, but it only does so much.

“Damain’s behavior was fine,” she tells them with measured neutrality. “You two, on the other hand, are being weird and it’s freaking me out.” She crosses her arms expectantly. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

Appearing from out of nowhere, Selina drapes herself along Marinette’s shoulders and snags a raspberry scone. “I do believe,” she says as if sharing a secret, “That they are trying to keep you from quitting, kitten.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Why would I quit? I like this job.”

She also likes the Waynes (in general, if not right then) and she likes Selina. The woman was a good mentor who didn’t shy away from the dirtier parts of the job and taught Marinette all she knew. (Even the bits, she noticed, that had little to nothing to do with being a personal assistant and were more likely to be found in the repertoire of a thief.

But, Marinette is in possession of her own sticky fingers and knows how to not ask questions, so. You know—curiosity killed the cat and all.)

She doesn’t voice any of that, but Selina, at least, knows it anyway. Marinette isn’t quiet about her gratitude after all.

“First meetings with the youngest Wayne don’t often go well,” Selina tells her. “In fact, I think he has a habit of making the interns cry.”

Dick makes some kind of offended noise. “Hey! He hasn’t done that since he was twelve!”

Tim elbows him in the ribs and Marinette makes a vaguely skeptical face at all three of them before deciding it wasn’t worth it. She has actual work to get done today and pastries to get rid of before she can even start.

She pats affectionately at Selina’s hand before grabbing as many boxes as she can hold. “Come on you two,” she says to the brothers. “You’re going to help me hand these out to the rest of the company.”

Dick immediately starts doing as told but Tim hesitates, humming thoughtfully. “You know that’s not going to help your whole ‘I’m not actually a Wayne’ thing, right?”

She glares at him. It doesn’t stop Tim from grinning like the utterly unrepentant little shit he is.

***

Things are quiet after the Damian Incident for a whole two weeks. It’s the longest lull Marinette has had since she first started and became somehow involved with the Waynes.

It ends because Dick finds out about the crush Marinette has been nursing on the Head of Security for three months now.

The Head of Security who is Jason Todd: second eldest Wayne sibling and Dick’s brother.

He takes it better than expected.

(Almost, she thinks later, a little too well.)

***

Despite her friendship with Dick and Tim—or perhaps because of it?—Jason had never seemed very interested in her. At first, Marinette had shrugged and counted it as a win; there was one Wayne, at least, who neither found her situation funny nor used it to poke fun at her.

They were on friendly terms, she supposed. Security has always been one of her more regular stops in the building, so she’d spoken to him often enough. He liked complaining that she spoiled his team rotten with all her treats.

But she also noticed that he likes her cherry danishes, so.

And then she noticed how crooked his grin was when he smiled. And how he seemed to have an arsenal of nicknames for everyone he knew. And the small collection of classic romance novels filled with sticky notes he tries and fails to hide in his desk. And, and, and.

It was around the time she began unconsciously memorizing his schedule based on when he was and was not there for her pastry deliveries, that she realized she may have made a misstep somewhere.

Jason was stubborn and passionate and flipped between overly proper and crass light a damn light switch. He was also, as stated, very much not interested in her.

Not that she would’ve pursued him anyway. He was a coworker as well as her friends’ brother.

Now if only one of said brothers could understand that.

“You should ask him out,” Dick suggests not for the first time and Marinette sighs, also not for the first time.

She loves Dick—she truly does—but he has been an aggravating level of unhelpful since he found out about Marinette’s latest romantic disaster.

“I’m definitely not doing that.”

Dick groans, like she’s being the unreasonable one. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Because I don’t like embarrassing myself?” she asks rhetorically. “Not everyone can have a fairy tale romance like you and Wally.”

He throws his coffee stirrer at her. “We are not a fairy tale.”

She shoots him a flat look. She’s heard Dick talk about Wally and Tim’s told her all the stories and she was there when he and Wally finally got their shit together. Dick was unbearable for an entire week with his gooey, lovestruck new lease on life.

“You two are the definition of fairy tale. You two make fairy tales look like trashy romance novels.”

He opens his mouth to argue the point before forcibly cutting himself off. “No. Stop distracting me. We’re not talking about that; we’re talking about you and Jason.”

“There is no ‘me and Jason’,” she reminds him through her clenched teeth.

“Not yet,” he says optimistically. Like it’s a fact, like he knows something she doesn’t.

He makes her want to slam her face into a wall. Truly, he does.

***

Dick stops running his HR papers up to her office. Instead, he’s somehow convinced Jason to play errand boy for him even though he literally never looks happy about it. What used to be a flimsy excuse for Dick to slack off for a few minutes and gossip with her has now turned into awkward silence as Jason drops off the papers and leaves without even a ‘hello’.

During their shared breaks, Dick takes to orchestrating ‘chance encounters’ between her and Jason, all but shoving them into each other (and even actually shoving that one time).  She catches Jason shooting dark looks at Dick every time he does it, and if she’d been holding any iota of hope at this point, it’s been smashed to dust. Jason obviously knows of his brother’s meddling and isn’t happy about it.

But Dick just can’t take the hint.

Every failed plan of his makes him steadily worse about it all—more frantic and frustrated and like he wants to strangle her for her stubbornness. (The last feeling being more than mutual.)

Dick’s meddling starts to make her and Jason’s previously friendly, if distant, relationship awkward and embarrassing. With every pointed comment, she gets closer to just punching Dick in the face. Or, maybe, she’ll just tell Wally who really ate all the chocolate strawberry macaroons she made; it’d certainly be more devastating.

***

It all comes to head on a Thursday, after most employees have left for the day. 

They run into each other in a breakroom, and she watches as Jason suddenly goes stiff, eyes flicking over her shoulder to no doubt scan for Dick. That single action makes her expression sour and she slams her empty mug down with more force than was necessary.

For Kwamis sake, he looks like a cornered animal. An image not helped by the way he jumps a foot in the air and stares at her like he’s worried she’ll suddenly lunge at him.

“Can we agree this is ridiculous?” she says abruptly. “I don’t know what Dick is trying to accomplish with his wingman schtick, but we both know it’s not going to work. Can we just… agree that he’s an idiot?”

A complicated look crosses Jason’s face before he snorts wryly. “Yeah, we can agree on that. Dickie-boy has always been a few sandwiches short a picnic.”

“I know things have been awkward between us lately, and I’m sorry about that, but I hope we can keep being friends?” she says hopefully.

“What in the world do you have to be sorry about?” he asks before she can start catastrophizing about the bewildered expression he makes at her words. “It’s not your fault.”

The smile she shoots him is rueful and she shakes her hand in an ‘ehh’ type gesture. “Kinda is. And I understand if the-” she makes a vague gesture between them that she hopes properly conveys ‘my giant, stupid crush on you’, “you know, is too much for you. Just say the word I’ll try and keep out of your way.”

She’s trying to be comforting or understanding or something like that, but all her words seem to do is make him upset. “Absolutely not,” he insists. “Sunshine, you are not going to change your routine just to make me feel better.”

Marinette crosses her arms, frowning up at him. “Why shouldn’t I? If I’m making you uncomfortable-”

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Uncomfort- Marinette. ” She jolts a bit at the use of her name. She doesn’t think he’s used it since her second week at W.E. “I’m not sure who made you think otherwise—and if it was Dick just tell me cause I’ll kick his ass —but barring the fact that I still enjoy your friendship regardless of any… feelings-” Marinette concentrates very hard on not showing emotion when he says that, “-it’s not your responsibility to deal with it.”

Okay, but… that makes no sense. Of course her feelings were her responsibility, that’s the whole point of them being hers.

“If it’s not mine, then whose responsibility is it then?” she asks, wondering where the hell his train of thought is running.

“Mine, obviously.”

She gives him a look, complete with narrowed eyes and thinly veiled judgment. “What? Is this some kind of gentleman’s martyr complex? Is that what’s happening right now?”

Jason huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “If me taking responsibility for my own damn feelings is a martyr complex then sure,” he snarks, not unkindly. More like he’s trying to protect himself by retreating behind a sour attitude.

Her mouth is halfway around a retort when his words catch up to her brain and she freezes.

“Your feelings?” she repeats. “Your feelings for… me?”

His voice is carefully neutral when he says, “Those would be the ones.”

Her mouth opens and closes and opens again. “You like me? Seriously?”

His face spasms at the question, starting at anger before he properly looks at her and the surprised expression on her face. He pales.

“You didn’t know?”

“No!” she squeaks, something she hasn’t done since she was fifteen. “Well Dick said but I didn’t believe him!”

And fuck, she thinks. This means Dick knew the whole damn time, didn’t he? Oh, she is so going to kill him the second she gets the chance.

Jason runs a hand down his face, covering his mouth as he gathers his bearings. Suddenly, his eyes shoot back open and land on her. “Wait. If you didn't know, then what the hell were you talking about just now?”

She blushes to the tips of her ears and buries her face in her hands so she doesn’t have to look at him. It was easy when she thought he’d figured it out himself. It’s harder now that she has to tell him. “I- I was talking about my crush on you.”

He’s quiet for so long that she gets antsy and peeks out from behind her fingers to see his expression. He’s still looking at her, but now there’s a wide, crooked smile on his face. The expression softens something in her chest and she lowers her hands.

“Really?” he asks, leaning closer.

Marinette nods, feeling a small smile spread across her lips.

He jolts forward, hands reaching for her before suddenly stopping just shy of touching. She startles a bit at the motion but doesn’t move away.

Jason licks his lips, smile smaller but no less bright. “I- can I?”

She blinks. “Can you what?”

“Kiss you.”

The blush returns full force, but with it also comes a smile, giddy and bright. She nods and no sooner than she does, is he swooping down to pull her into a toe-curling kiss. His hands cup her face with a tenderness that makes her smile, makes her giddy, and it’s not long before they’re both smiling too wide to actually kiss and are forced to break apart.

His hands fall to her back, practically engulfing her, and his chin drops onto her head. It’s warm and cozy and she thinks she could so very easily get used to this.

Later, they’re going to have to deal with Dick and Tim and Selina and the teasing they’ll no doubt have to endure—not to mention how much worse the rumors are going to get—but right now? Right now Marinette pulls Jason back down for another kiss and very pointedly doesn’t think about it.

[roscgcld]

HEADCANON + GOJO SATORU || the gojo twins

request: HELLO^^ so I’ve been wondering this so long but do you think it would even be possible if Gojo had a twin sister that also has the sixth eye ? Probably not but, I’d kinda want to know what the clans higher ups and curses react to 2 sixth eye user.

note: I am glad I am not the only one thinking about this lol. like what if they were two gojos? absolute chaos the world has ever seen. i love it, this entire prompt lives in my head rent free lol

pronouns: she/her

gojotwins!au masterlist

imagine the other clan’s reactions when they learn that not one, but two of the gojo clan’s newest heirs were born with the highly coveted Six Eyes?

gojo satoru and y/n - the newest members of the gojo clan, twins that are born with the Six Eyes. a first case that has ever happened in the family’s history. it was this monumental moment when the higher ups realise that things are going to be interesting

by the way - you’re the older twin lol. just so you can poke jabs at gojo for the rest of your life by using the line. “i’m the older sibling here!”

“only by like, two minutes!”

that being said though, over-protective twin brother who will scare all your boyfriends/girlfriends the first time they meet because of his height and overly nice personality that scares people even more

you’re just as bad though - if any girl or guy walks out of his room after a night of fun you will probably be a little bitch and make them feel awkward until gojo wakes up

“can’t you be a little nicer to them?” gojo groans after the person he slept with last night quickly left after an awkward cup of morning coffee with you. “I actually liked them a lot.”

but it’s all done with love, and if the other realise their significant other makes them happy, they will back off

the moment you two entered jujutsu tech, then yaga-sensei was about to hand in his retirement slip early with the sheer chaos that his year of students were bringing him 

ieiri was delighted that she wasn’t going to be the only girl at school; geto was amused how you two were basically copy and paste of each other, just in different genders

surprisingly enough, think you’d be the one who’d be the more studious and definitely more interesting in learning how to hone your skills better - gojo probably still has this ‘i am the strongest’ mentality that the elders planted in him because ✨misogyny✨

but he loves to compete with you - and you’re the only one who’d he ever admit defeat to, and will defend your honour whenever the elders talk down on you because you’re a girl. and to them, girls are just meant to be ‘a pretty face with strong genes to bring a strong generation into the world’

he’s probably the one who talked your elders out of arranging a marriage between you and an heir to another important family like the kamo clan - because there is no way in hell is he going to let some random ass man take you away from him

probably joking told you that if all else fails, to marry geto on the spot - and let’s be honest here, who wouldn’t? Geto looks so damn fine both the anime and especially in the Gojo Past Arch. rail me daddy-

*cough cough*

anyway - ever since that comment, geto and you might pretend to flirt with each other to get gojo riled up. playfully brushing your hand along his arm, playing with his hair between your fingers whenever you two talk, geto leaning close to you to whisper something in your ear with a smirk, or him resting his hand around your waist whenever he leads you about

it always gets gojo riled up, and he’d get in between the both of you; whining for you to give him attention instead

you probably sneak into his room, even as you got older, to hide in his arms whenever you have a nightmare - and he’d wordlessly just hold you close and cuddle you to sleep again no matter how old you two are

both of you share the same braincell - same reactions, expressions, and sometimes even finishing each other’s sentences. sometimes you two even say the same thing at the same time, to which you two just high five each other with a laugh 

freaks everyone out a little, since it’s just so random and natural for the both of you to do it 

nanami hates it whenever he has to accompany you two - as his senpais, he can’t complain much. he does learn a lot, yet at the same time, he can’t stand it when the both of you are sent on a mission together 

with you he’s fine; but he barely tolerates gojo 

ijichi loves you, since you compliment him on the smallest of things, or smile at him warmly whenever he does something right; may have a crush on you that he refuses to reveal to anyone

both of you probably have shopping trips every weekend; don’t tell me you two don’t splurge on clothing when you two can charge whatever it is you want to the gojo clan account 

you two probably got a lot of those roadside modelling offers - and sometimes you’d probably even joke about leaving the whole jujutsu world behind to become a model instead

“i mean - it pays. and all i need to do is sit and look pretty.”

a lot of ‘did not!’ and ‘did too!’ arguments all day long 

you two love to taunt the Curses together before you kill them - it makes them only more scared, but the ‘chase more fun’

“say, toru - it looks so weak for a semi-first, no?”

“must be a new born - how pathetic.”

bags of candies all over the place - somehow he got you addicted to candy as well, so whenever you two travel, you always buy different candies and different treats 

when geto betrayed you all in your third year, gojo turned to you as his pillar of familiarity; even more so when he was force to kill his best friend a few years later. the both of you leaned on each other as you start to pick the pieces of yourselves once more

both you and your brother share the same idea of changing the jujutsu world from the inside out, so you two decided to take up teaching together under the command of now principal yaga

poor man is deciding if he now regrets accepting both of your applications 

you took in megumi as your own by the way - so megumi respects you a lot since you’re like the mother he never had. but at the same time, he wouldn’t be surprise if he heard that you do something stupid with your twin brother

feel like gojo and you will spend your free time probably trying to unlock more secrets of the Limitless and how to use your Six Eyes better - and Gojo will teach you how to probably use Hallow Purple and how to use Reverse Cursed Techniques with the held of ieiri as well

you took in maki, inumaki and even panda as your own kids as well - teaching them whenever gojo is forced to go and solve some issue the higher ups throw at him; making the kids super protective of you

even when yuta came, you didn’t care about the special grade curse that was stuck inside of him; treating him like an actual person and training him up and build his confidence once more

when you heard what happened to the special-grade cursed object that megumi was tasked on taking the following year, you laughed your ass off for 10 minutes while megumi tried not to show his annoyance

“y/n-sensei, i almost died. it is not funny.”

but you still took yuji in as your own child, and when you were giving him a tour around campus, you raised an eyebrow when a pair of lips appeared on the side of his cheek

“even though i want to kill that white haired bastard, i might spare your pretty little face.” 

“hello to you too, sukuna.” you greeted with a smile while yuji slapped a hand over the mouth, apologising to you with a wild blush on his face. you just laughed and reassured the poor boy it was alright

when nobara came, you adopted her as well; and she loves you, and loves how in tune with the trends you are. you two even have a girl’s night where you talk about everything that happens and have a few rants about boys

all in all - highkey chaotic, but with more common sense then your younger twin brother gojo and knows how to act professional whenever you need to. you also tend to adopt all the students that walks through your doors, and they view you as a parental figure as well. you and your brother are a menace together, but you two get things done and no one can really complain

gojo is protective, but when it comes to you it’s worse lol. but you’re just as bad when it comes to making sure ‘your baby brother’ is safe. you two tend to be super sassy and throw shade at each other, but when it comes down to the basics, you two love each other a lot and will go the extra mile to make sure that each other are safe

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[queenshelby]

THE SECRET - part one of three

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Virgin!Reader

Summary: You are a new cast member, playing Tommy Shelby’s love interest. During filming, you fall for your co-star Cillian Murphy.

Words: 6,556

Warning: Smut, Age Gap

Notes: For the purpose of this fic, Cillian is single.

Tag List: @lilymurphy03 @deefigs

@chrisevanshoeeee @desperate-and-broken

@weepingstudentfishhorse  @fookingshelby  @livinginfantaxy

@atomicsoulcollecto  @datewithgianni @mariapaiva13

The Scene

You were nervous. This was your first role in a popular TV show.

You had been on small production TV shows in your home country of France. But this was different. The show had international success and you couldn’t believe that the producers of the show had chosen you for the role of 27-year-old Yvette L’mare for the series’ final Season.

You spoke fluent French and English and had experience in scenes with extensive dialogue due to your theatrical experience since you were 12.

But, you were by no means as experienced as some of the other candidates they had casted. After all, you were only 19.

You read the scripts over and over again after your successful audition and made yourself small rehearsal cards for each scene. The dialogue heavy scenes didn’t concern you. But, there were some scenes which were out of your comfort zone.

Your script included two intimate scenes with the actor who played the main character of the show, Thomas Shelby.

The first scene was simple enough, not much more than a kiss. The second scene, however, was to be filmed under closed set. Neither of you were going to be clothed in more than underpants, which meant that only the director, one assistant and the camara man would be present.

Before the audition, you watched the last two seasons of Peaky Blinders and you re-watched them just a week ago as part of your preparation and to give you an idea what the director will look for when filming these kinds of scenes.

Before that, you hadn’t paid much attention to the show.

From watching some of the series, it was obvious to you that your co-star was experienced. He portrayed Thomas Shelby impressively well which was something that made you even more nervous.

Will you live up to the standards of the director? Or will you fail miserably with these challenging scenes?

It didn’t matter. It was all too late now. You signed the Contract and were on your way to England.

You arrived a day before filming started in order to settle into your apartment.

The apartment was located within a hotel residence that was booked out for the cast for the entire period of production.

You shared a small two-bedroom apartment with another new cast member named Emma. Emma was from France as well and, ironically, portrayed your sister in the show. Emma was 24, slightly older than you and quite attractive. You immediately got along. She was focused, didn’t care much about partying and was down to earth.

For the first evening, after everyone arrived, the producers organised a dinner to introduce the new cast and crew members to everyone. This was when you first got to meet your co-star, Cillian.

Since you had several scenes together, the director of the show took the time to personally introduce you to Cillian.

Cillian greeted you with a big smile and you knew immediately why so many women were smitten by him. You recalled that, when you told friends and family about your audition, they wouldn’t stop talking about Thomas Shelby and how insanely attractive he was.

They were not wrong. But, what impressed you the most about Cillian was that he was so easy going and funny.

You talked to him for a while, about the most random topics, ignoring everyone else for at least 20 minutes until it was time for you to meet the other cast members.

‘Looks like you two have a lot to talk about?’ Anthony said jokingly.

‘Talking about wine’ you smiled, rather shyly.

‘Yeah, I got carried away talking about the wine production in the province. Did you know that Y/N’s parents own Bessiux Wines?’ Cillian asked, catching Anthony by surprise. ‘His sister got married at your parents’ estate last August’ Cillian added, causing Anthony to nod.

You talked about your parents’ winery for a little longer before Anthony asked you to meet the other cast members.

‘I am looking forward to working with you Cillian’ you said as you walked away and he responded with a smile and comforting ‘Likewise’.

After your encounter with Cillian you were introduced to Finn Cole and Natasha O’Keefe. You heard about Finn from your new roommate but only just then realised that he portrays Michael Grey.

You talked to both Finn and Natasha for a while and, whilst you enjoyed their company, you wished that you had some more time to talk to Cillian. Unfortunately for you, he left rather early that evening.

The next day, you picked up your schedule for the week and noticed that the scenes you prepared for were to be shot completely out of order.

In fact, your most intimate scene was scheduled for 10am on Day 2 of Production. You couldn’t believe it. You were by no means prepared for that.

Your first day on set went well and the director of the show complimented your work on several occasions. But, when filming was finished for the day, your nervousness sat in.

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ Emma asked as you were picking on your salad and looked at tomorrow’s scripts.

‘Yeah, just a bit nervous’ you sighed.

Emma looked over your shoulder to read your script.

‘Wow, they are throwing you right into the deep end’ she giggled.

‘Yes, they are’ you said with a shy smile before listening to some advice from Emma, who had more experience than you acting on screen.

That night, after reading your scripts at least ten more times and letting it play out in your head, you could not sleep and your lack of sleep was evident on set the next day.

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ Cillian asked concerned, noticing your yawning and your hands shivering slightly.

‘Yes, I am fine. I am just trying to think how to act the next scene. From reading this, it isn’t very clear to me what exactly I need to do’ you said concerned.

‘These scenes are scripted in a way to allow for improvisation. From experience, actors often fail to act these kinds of scenes directly to script, that’s why’ Cillian laughed.

‘Right, so the script is lacking the details on purpose?’ you asked.

‘Correct’ Cillian said. ‘John and Anthony will tell us what to do and in which direction to face so that you are covered. You don’t need to worry’ Cillian said reassuringly, causing you to giggle.

‘I am not worried about anyone seeing my breasts or something. I just don’t know what do, where to put my hands, my face, any of that’ you explained with total embarrassment.

‘Well, I suppose you just pretend to do what you would normally do when you are getting down to business’ Cillian said with a chuckle, not knowing how else to explain it.

‘Well, my experience in this department is limited. So, I apologise in advance for any awkwardness’ you said, your cheeks flushing even through the dense make up.

‘Y/N, these scenes are awkward even for the most experienced actors. If it gets too uncomfortable, we can postpone it, alright’ Cillian said, keeping a relaxed approach.

‘Alright. Thanks Cillian’ you said just before it was time for you to get changed into your gown.

The next time you would see Cillian was on the closed set, pretending to make love to him on the large cedar bed.

Just as you were getting undressed in the change room and put on the skin-coloured panties and robe you were given by the set assistant, you topped up your perfume.

You were going to be so close to each other, at least you wanted to smell nice.

After you were done, the set assistant applied some more lipstick and fixed up your hair before you sat down on the large bed. You were nervous, your heart pounding.

Cillian was much more relaxed sitting next to you in black Clavin Klein briefs. There was no need for a robe, his intimate parts were well covered, unlike yours.

His freckled skin was highlighted by the light which had not yet been adjusted and you couldn’t help but look at him while you made an effort to keep your small breasts covered from him at this point.

The cameraman was angling the camera while the director discussed the scene with you and Cillian.

You knew that this was going to be a disaster. The issue wasn’t so much that you were naked in front of the camera and the director, but more the fac that, as part of the scene, another man who you felt somewhat attracted to was about to see you like this, completely vulnerable. He was about to touch your naked skin and kiss you, but not out of his own accord. It felt absurd to you, yet you knew this was part of the job.

Finally, after the director gave his instructions, you got yourself into position.

With some embarrassment you handed the set assistant your robe and lied down on the bed.

You were waiting for some kind of joke from Cillian to lighten up the mood, but Cillian was very professional.

He sat down right next to you and you could tell that he was trying very hard to look away from your breasts.

Before he climbed over you to get into position, he gave you a warning. Regardless of the warning, you stopped breathing for a minute as he positioned himself on top of you.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked as he could see the nervousness on your face.

‘Yes’ you nodded, taking in a deep breath. He was so close that you could smell his skin and the scent of his aftershave.

‘Sink down a bit on the left forearm Cillian, we want to keep the rating below R18’ the director said with a laugh because your breasts were fully visible on camera.

‘We do?’ Cillian chuckled, causing you to laugh just before Cillian adjusted his position as instructed. For a short moment, his chest brushed against your left breast.

‘I am sorry’ he said politely.

‘It’s alright Cilly’ you said.

‘I think we are good now guys, I will count to three and we start the first part of the scene’ the director said.

It felt like an eternity with Cillian on top of you by the time the director called action.

In this scene, Tommy and Yvette were having sex. It was to start with a kiss followed by the obvious act.

There was no practice for a scene like this and, as soon as you heard the word action, Cillian’s lips slowly met yours. You closed your eyes and caressed his face with your hands as you let him take the lead. The kiss lasted for what felt like an eternity until he pulled away from you.

His body was soon grinding against yours, but without your most intimate parts touching. He made sure of that. Regardless of this, you could feel his legs in between yours and his chest brushing against your breasts. The sensation sent shivers down your body and small little goosebumps began to cover your chest. How embarrassing you thought and, unfortunately for you, your embarrassment was evident on your face and the cut was called.

You attempted the scene again several times. You kissed over and over again and your hands moved from his face to his arms and chest, exploring his skin while his body was grinding against you.

But, this wasn’t enough for the director who picked up that the movement of your hands and the expressions on your face weren’t giving the viewers the impression that this was real. Your biggest problem was that you were attracted to Cillian and you realised this more than ever during this scene and tried very hard to hide it, making you look nervous and embarrassed.

After a few more takes, the director suggested a break.

‘I am so sorry Cillian’ you said as you sat next to him in your dressing gown.

‘Don’t be. You are doing fine. These scenes can be tricky and really shouldn’t be scheduled for the second day of filming’ he said with a warm smile before excusing himself.

He was gone for about ten minutes while you had some water and waited for further instructions from the team.

When he returned, he informed you that he agreed with the director that the scene be postponed.

‘Cillian, I can do this, really’ you said upset about the postponement.

‘I know you can, but like I said, it’s the second day of filming and it would probably be easier once we had a few more scenes together’ Cillian suggested.

‘Is that not going to be a problem with the set up?’ you asked.

‘No, the prop can stay here for another month and one of the perks of being a producer is that I get a say in this stuff’ Cillian smiled.

‘I feel like such a failure’ you said embarrassed.

‘You are not Y/N, you are doing great, really’ Cillian said, his hands touching your arms.

‘Common, time to get ready for more scenes’ he said with a warm smile and you followed him to get changed, separately of course.

Mr Matchmaker

Later that night, some of the cast members were heading to the pub for dinner and you sat down next to Natasha and Emma when you arrived.

You told Natasha and Emma about what happened on set. You were still upset about it.

‘Oh gosh, don’t worry Y/N. Cillian is very easy going and Anthony is very impressed with your scenes from the first day so you have nothing to worry about. I remember my first sex scene with Cillian and it took nine takes and a lot of laughter to get it right’ Natasha said.

‘How do you know when it’s right though? It’s extremely awkward’ you said.

‘If it looks like you are having sex then it’s right’ Natasha laughed. ‘I actually think about the man in my life and just switch off throughout the scene. So, if you have a boyfriend, think about him. That might help with the comfort level’ Natasha said.

‘I am happily single’ you said with a smile just as Cillian arrived at the table.

‘You are late’ Natasha said, noticing the frustration on his face.

‘Sorry’ Cillian said as he sat down next to you.

‘Still dramas with Nadine?’ Natasha asked, causing you to wonder who Nadine was.

‘Yes’ he responded just before he ordered himself a drink.

Throughout the conversation you learned that Nadine was Cillian’s ex-girlfriend with whom he broke up as little as six weeks ago. Him and Nadine were together for three years and shared a house in Dublin until recently.

Your group was soon joined by some more cast members, including Finn Cole and everyone seemed in a pretty good mood.

You talked to Finn for a while until you excused yourself to get another drink.  

As you walked to the bar, you noticed Cillian following you and engaged in a conversation with him.

‘Just in case you haven’t noticed, Finn seems to like you’ Cillian said as he stood next to you at the bar.

‘Oh, what makes you say that?’ you asked.

‘I just know. My matchmaking abilities are impeccable’ he joked.

Whilst you felt flattered, you weren’t interested in Finn and little did Cillian know that he was the one you had your eye on.

‘Really?’ you asked.

‘Yes, really. You should probably consider him. He is a nice guy, down to earth, good looking, the right age’ Cillian said cheekily.

‘I have my eyes on someone else Cillian, but thank you for your efforts’ you said with slight embarrassment and a hint of humour.

‘Now I am intrigued. Who is it? Someone on set?’ Cillian asked.

‘None of your business Mr Matchmaker’ you laughed.

‘Well, if you ever require my services, you know where to find me’ Cillian said, causing you to raise your eyebrows.

‘Services as in setting you up with someone from the crew, discreetly of course’ Cillian laughed, realising that his comment may have been received by you in the wrong way.

‘Right, you got me excited there for a moment’ you said jokingly.

‘Did I?’ Cillian joked. ‘Now that makes me feel good at my age’ Cillian added.

You knew how old he was. You googled him, just before you came to the pub, because you were curious about him, his background, things he doesn’t talk about. But, to your surprise, the fact that he was nearing 45, didn’t bother you the slightest and it certainly didn’t dampen the attraction you felt towards him.

You also knew that, being 19 years old, you would have no chance with him. He wasn’t the type of actor who was chasing young models like many other celebrities his age.

You and Cillian talked and joked for another 20 minutes before he excused himself. He had a busy day filming ahead of him and needed to get some rest.

Over the next few days, Cillian and you had several scenes together and spent some of your breaks together. You enjoyed his company and he clearly also enjoyed yours.

On Day 9 of Production, you even went as far and asked Cillian whether he wanted to watch the Liverpool game with you and Emma.

He accepted your invitation and you were quite excited. Emma was confused as to why you invited him over but didn’t think much about it until there was a knock on the door and she opened it.

To both of your surprise, Cillian had invited Finn along. Was he really so oblivious to the fact that you were attracted to him that he had to bring a sidekick, you thought?

The evening went rather slow and with you sitting in between Finn and Emma, you felt somewhat uncomfortable.

The next day, on Day 10 of Production, you had another somewhat intimate scene with Cillian. It wasn’t more than a kiss and some touching. Regardless, you were nervous but not nervous enough to first ask him why he invited Finn.

‘He invited himself when I told him about it’ Cillian chuckled. ‘I told you, he likes you’ he added.

‘That’s just great because now Emma thinks that I have a thing for him’ you said laughing.

‘These Rumours. You got to love them. Sometimes I seriously feel like I am back at school working here’ Cillian laughed.

This conversation led to an interesting question from Cillian. After you had time to talk about your days at school, he brought up your upcoming birthday. You seemed to have referred to school as a recent event, so he couldn’t help but ask how old you were turning.

‘I am turning 20’ you responded, causing Cillian to look at you almost like he had seen a ghost.

‘You are 19?’ he asked.

‘You seem surprised. How old did you think I was?’ you asked.

‘Not sure, mid or late twenties maybe?’ Cillian said just as the set assistant called you both to the scene.

Your nervousness set back in as you took your position in Thomas Shelby’s office.

The scene started of with a dialogue between Thomas Shelby and Yvette which went smoothly, as expected. The next part of the scene involved Thomas lifting Yvette onto his desk and kiss her passionately while running his hands over the back of her body.

The first attempt resulted in Cillian and you both laughing as he lifted you up. It was awkward and it didn’t help that you were ticklish.

The next take went smoothly. Cillian lifted you on to the desk gently before his hands ran down your back while he kissed you. Your hands caressed his face as he did and the director had to call the cut on the kiss.

You enjoyed it, and to his surprise, so did Cillian. He felt uncomfortable about enjoying kissing you or even spending time with you outside of work. Not only were you a co-worker but you were also much younger than him.

A sense of guilt ran through his mind right after the scene now that he knew your age. Kissing you shouldn’t feel good, it was wrong.

The director was happy with the scene and you hopped back off the table before asking Cillian whether he wanted to have lunch with you.

Little did you know that your lunch date was going to be your last with him for while as Cillian was trying hard to keep his distance from you thereafter.

Birthday Surprise

But this all changed another week later, on your birthday, which was Day 17 of Production.

By that point, filming was getting to you and you were tired and, therefore, declined the offer from Natasha to organise a birthday party for you.

Instead, you and some of the crew and cast went for dinner at a nearby restaurant.

The food was amazing and you spent two hours at the restaurant after a rather long day of filming. By about 8.30pm half of the crew and cast had left and it was only you, Cillian, Emma, Sam and Finn who stayed.

Finn was going to meet some friends at a nearby pub at 9pm and invited you all to join him. Whilst Emma and Sam agreed, you and Cillian weren’t keen and made your way back to the apartment complex.

‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ you blurted out all of a sudden just as you were both getting into the elevator. This question took all of your courage after Cillian had been avoiding to spend time with you.

‘I think the hotel bar is closed already’ Cillian said.

‘Well, as it happens, I am holding a bottle of red wine in my hand’ you said cheekily holding up the birthday present from Natasha.

‘I am not sure Y/N, we have to be up early’ Cillian said.

‘Common, it’s my birthday’ you said convincingly, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘Alright, I suppose why not’ Cillian said as followed you down the hallway.

‘Your place. Emma is determined to pick up a date at the pub’ you laughed.

‘Yeah, I don’t want to be there for that’ Cillian joked as you walked further down the hallway. Your apartments were on the same floor.

You walked into Cillian’s apartment and took off your jacket before sitting down on the small lounge.

Just after Cillian poured two glasses of red wine and sat down next to you, his phone rang.

The display showed ‘Incoming Call from Nadine’ and he turned his phone to silent.

‘You should let me pick it up, it might solve all your problems’ you joked.

‘It just might’ Cillian laughed as he pressed the ‘Ignore’ button and put the phone down.

Just after the short interruption, Cillian and you began to talk about your work, travelling and some other things until he brought up an uncomfortable topic.

‘Do you remember two weeks ago when I tried to talk you into going out with Finn?’ Cillian asked.

‘Yes, Mr Matchmaker, I remember. Why?’ you said.

‘You said that you had your eyes on someone else…who is it?’ Cillian asked with a laugh, causing you to take a deep breath.

‘Oh god, are you still going on with this?’ you said with a laugh. This was the fourth time Cillian had asked you this question since you mentioned it to him.

‘Common, I have been pondering about this for weeks now. Tell me’ Cillian said.

‘No’ you giggled.

‘I promise I won’t tell anyone’ Cillian said.

‘Stop it’ you responded.

‘Alright, I will take a guess’ Cillian said before taking a pause. ‘Harry?’ Cillian asked, causing you to shake your head.

‘Daryl?’ he asked, causing you to shake your head again.

‘I don’t know then. That’s literally everyone who is around your age’ Cillian laughed.

‘Who said he’s around my age?’ you asked, causing Cillian to raise his eyebrow.

‘Paul?’ he then asked, causing you to shake your head again. Was he really that oblivious?

‘Everyone else is married, I think’ Cillian said.

‘You are not’ you said shyly after taking in a deep breath.

‘Me?’ he asked after taking a deep breath while his blue eyes looked at you, full of questions.

Your heart was pounding, your hand shaking again. There was no turning back now.

‘Yes, you’ you said nervously, looking at him almost fearful about his response.

He drew another deep breath while, in his mind, he was thinking about what to say.

‘Y/N, I feel humbled and it’s not that you aren’t a beautiful and smart woman, but I am more than twice your age’ he said.

‘Ignore the age difference for a minute and tell me that you don’t feel the same, that you don’t want me’ you said.

‘It is irrelevant what I feel and what I want, it still doesn’t make it right’ he responded.

‘But, are you attracted to me? It’s a simple question’ you asked nervously and, after drawing another deep breath, Cillian responded.

‘I’ve been trying very hard not to be...unsuccessfully so’ he sighed, causing you to smile.

‘Alright’ you said with the biggest grin on your face.

‘Alright?’ Cillian asked surprised by your response. This didn’t mean that he was going to give into you just like this and ignore his concerns, or did it?

‘So, what do you propose we do now? This will make things very awkward on set’ he said concerned.  

‘This’ you said as you leaned in and pressed your lips onto his. His lips were just as soft as the last time you kissed on set, but this time there was an intensity and urgency between you.

He gave into the kiss as if there had never been any doubt and, unlike previous kisses you shared in a professional capacity, this time, when his lips parted, you could feel his tongue slip in between your lips and it wasn’t long until your tongues moved in sync with each other.

The kiss lasted for what felt like an eternity and you wanted so much more than taste his lips.

‘This is wrong Y/N’ Cillian said as your lips finally drifted apart.

‘Do you want me to leave?’ you asked, caressing his face, staring at all of the freckles which covered him.

‘No’ he said, earning him a smile from you just as he reached beneath your shirt and pressed his lips back onto yours.

His warm hands ran over the sides of your abdomen, up and down, until he lifted your t-shirt over your head.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen you like this before, but it felt different. His eyes didn’t have to shy away from your breasts and the rest of your body this time.

With his hands cupping your breasts, which were still covered by your black lace bra, the kiss intensified. It became more urgent and more passionate.

Your hands soon found their way beneath Cillian’s t-shirt also and, this time, touching his skin didn’t feel awkward or inappropriate.

Within seconds, his t-shirt landed on the floor next to yours just before Cillian’s fingers had found the clip of your bra.

It didn’t take his skilled fingers long to unclip it and let it join the rest of the clothes which you had already gotten rid of.

He took a moment to look at your breasts, right there in front of him yet again.

‘What’s wrong?’ you asked concerned as you noticed him stare at them.

‘Nothing, just taking in the beautiful view without feeling guilty about it’ Cillian smirked.

‘You checked out my breasts when we were filming, didn’t you?’ you said sheepishly.

‘Of course not’ he said with a laugh before he guided you backwards and down onto your bed.

You both were quick to remove your jeans and, moments later, there you were again, on the bed together wearing nothing but underpants. Just this time, there were no cameras. You were free to touch and kiss each other the way you pleased. It didn’t feel awkward. To the contrary. It felt right.

Hoovering over you again Cillian began to gently kiss your neck while one of his hands ran over your firm breasts. Finally, he was able to touch them, feel every inch of them.

Cillian soon worked his way to the lobe of your ear, playing with it using his tongue. Lightly sucking on it as his hand moved to your other breast, squeezing your nipple gently.

You didn't want this to end, and with a soft moan, you signaled Cillian to continue exploring your body. And so he did. You had never been with a man before, but in the moment, this felt comfortable, felt right.

As he continued to cast his spell on you and work his magic, your body responded. Your lace panties were soaking and your muscles began to vibrate with an unfamiliar feeling.

As Cillian’s lips moved back to your mouth for another passionate kiss, one of his hands wandered further down your body. But he was in no hurry, taking his time explore all of your body.

Cillian’s tongue began to gently drift between your lips and you responded with yours. Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him even closer to you as his hand reached the top of your lace panties.

Pushing your panties aside slightly, he ran his fingers over your wet entrance, slowly and gently while his lips never left yours.

You moaned into the kiss just as the tip of one of his fingers dipped into you slightly.

You took in a deep breath and broke the kiss for a brief moment.

‘Cillian, I never had sex with anyone’ you said, causing him to remove his hand from your wet mound.

‘It’s alright. We won’t go that far until you are ready’ he said reassuringly.

‘That’s so embarrassing, I am sorry’ you said.

‘What is?’ Cillian asked, slightly confused.

‘I am 20, it’s weird don’t you think?’ you said shyly, your face flushed.

‘Don’t be silly Y/N. There is no rush’ Cillian said as he ran his hand over your cheek. ‘If it is any consolation to you, I didn’t expect any of this, tonight, with you and I am enjoying every moment of it even if we don’t have sex’ he added.

‘So am I Cillian’ you smiled.

‘Good’ Cillian said before kissing you again gently.

The kiss soon became heated again but Cillian wasn’t taking it further, giving you the chance to set the pace at which you were willing to move.

But, you enjoyed him playing with you, teasing your most intimate parts and, after several more minutes of passionate kisses, you guided his hand back in between your legs.

Your actions earned you a chuckle from him as his lips moved from your lips down to your breasts slowly.

As Cillian was gently trailing kisses over your breasts, your hand made it’s way in between your bodies where it found the elastic of his Calvin Klein briefs.

Cillian moaned briefly against your breasts as you slipped your hand beneath the elastic, gently taking hold of his erection.

His cock was warm and firm and his tip slightly lubricated from the precum that had pooled there.

You moved your hand up and down his shaft, stroking him gently while his fingers began to circle over your clit, making you moan loudly.

Your panties were getting wetter and wetter with each stroke of his fingers and you were grinding against his hand, wanting more.

You were panting and moaning in pleasure as he kept stimulating you with his fingers, until, all of a sudden, me removed his hand making you squirm in protest.

His mouth soon wandered from your breasts down to your stomach, forcing you to let go of his hard cock.

But, as your body responded beneath his, your mind couldn't catch up to the events unfolding between the two of you.

You surrendered and let him take control and it wasn’t long until his lips had reached the top of your panties.

‘Oh god’ you moaned in anticipation just as Cillian took hold of both sides of your panties before slipping them down.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ he asked, unsure about your reaction.

‘No, please don’t’ you said, your hands falling onto the top of your head.

Admiring the view, Cillian let his fingers run up and down your slit slowly and gently, taking the juices leaking from it and spreading them up to the hood over your clit.

You moaned loudly at the sensation as, suddenly, you could feel Cillian’s tongue join his fingers, playfully darting closer to your opening, but not quite getting there.

‘Cillian, fuck’ you moaned as energy was coursing through your body, wanting to release, but not quite getting there. He apparently had received a masters degree in how to play your body.

Suddenly his tongue was there, licking up the sides of each of your lips. Inspecting the crevices.

Your head began to thrash, your hands flew out and grabbed the bedding.

‘Let me know if I hurt you’ was the next thing you heard but didn’t pay much attention to as you felt one of his fingers enter you.

With the mildest of discomfort, you arched your back while moan after moan left your mouth.

For several minutes, his finger went in and out of you gently while his tongue was licking you, circling over your clit.

He wasn’t sure whether or not to add another finger, but he decided to try his luck after reminding you to tell him if he hurts you in any way.

Moments later, he inserted a second finger while continuing to circle your clit with his tongue.

‘Oh fuck’ you moaned. There was a slight discomfort but it didn’t last very long before you felt nothing but pure pleasure.

Cillian’s fingers began rubbing inside of you as he placed his mouth around the hood of your clit and began to suck.

‘Holy Shit Cillian’ you moaned. You could feel him smile against your mound.

You began to squirm but he would not let up and your body began its final ascent.

Waves of electricity were crashing through you and your hips were grinding and bucking under his direct tutelage as your orgasm washed over you.

You were a shaking mess by the time he was done and, when you finally came down from your high, Cillian moved up and gave you a passionate kiss.

You could taste your juices on his lips and it was possibly the most erotic moment you had ever experienced.

‘Your turn’ you smirked before pushing Cillian onto his back against the stash of pillows.

You comment caused Cillian to chuckle just before you leaned over him to kiss him.

‘You know you don’t have to Y/N. There is no rush’ he said, running his hand over your cheek as your lips drifted apart.

‘But I want to’ you said with determination. ‘I might just need a little guidance’ you said shyly before descending down on his body, trailing gentle kisses over his chest and all the way down to his stomach.

You adored his body, it was perfect. He was the most attractive man you ever met.

As you were gently kissing his stomach, your hands moved beneath the rim of his briefs before pulling them down.

His erection sprung up almost instantly as soon as the briefs cam down and you couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment.

‘I think I will just go for it and you tell me if I do something wrong’ you said with a smile as you pinned back your hair into a bun with the hairband that was wrapped around your wrist.

Your comment made Cillian laugh for a moment until he could feel your warm lips on the tip of his cock, at which point the word ‘fuck’ was all that left his mouth.

Moans soon began to escape him as you used your hands to stroke him, up and down, while the head of his cock lolled uneasily on the top of your tongue.

You took him deeper into your mouth with every stroke and, as the third inch made its way into your mouth, your lips were being stretched.

You soon managed to take him in all the way, although it was a struggle.

‘Fuck, Y/N’ Cillian moaned as his length disappeared in your mouth.

His comment made you stop and ask whether something was wrong.

‘No, you are doing it perfectly’ Cillian reassured you just before you returned your attention to his very hard cock.

By this time precum had pooled on the tip as you took him back into your mouth. It tasted sweet but yet salty at the same time.

Your tongue began circling around him and then up and down his shaft before returning to the bopping motions.

Cillian leaned back and relaxed as you improved your technique minute by minute.

Each stroke of your tongue was now driving him crazy.

Looking up at him occasionally, you could see that he was enjoying whatever you were doing.

Your tongue was moving like a snake, coating every inch of his velvety soft, yet hard cock with a fine patina of sweet, warm saliva.

It wasn’t long until you could feel Cillian’s cock throb inside your mouth and his breathing was becoming laboured.

His hand was tangled up inside your hair as you continued to bop your head up and down firmly.

‘Y/N, I am close, you might want to stop’ Cillian said, trying hard to hold back.

‘Come in my mouth’ you said confidently before you continued your movements.

Your comment caught Cillian by surprise but he didn’t dare to argue and let go.

Just as your mouth bopped down on his hard shaft again, you could feel him pulsate inside your mouth and, with one loud groan, his warm cum spurted on the back of your tongue.

You continued to bop your head and collect all of his cum until he began to relax.

‘Did you just?’ Cillian asked, and before he could finish his question, you interrupted.

‘Swallow? Yes, what else do you normally do with it?’ you asked with a smirk.

‘I hate sleeping on dirty sheets and I was planning to stay the night, so that seemed like the best option’ you laughed before laid beside Cillian, his arms gently wrapping around you.

‘Hey, I am not complaining’ he laughed as he ran his hands gently over your arms.

‘Didn’t think so’ you said before kissing him again gently.

You fell asleep pretty soon afterwards, curled up against Cillian’s chest.

You both slept well and deep until, at 6am, Cillian’s alarm went off.

‘Oh goddam, what’s the time?’ you asked.

‘6am, why?’ Cillian said as you jumped out of the bed and collected your clothes, trying to put them on as quickly as you can.

‘Y/N, we don’t have a scene until 7am. There is plenty of time’ he said.

‘Yes, but Emma starts at 6.30am. She will notice me not being there’ you explained.

[imagine-a-fangirl]

A/n: Welcome to my first bridgerton fanfic, which will eventually become an anthony bridgerton x female! reader fanfic. This is a bit of an introduction chapter, so it will get better I promise The ton, the high society of London. If you were someone who mattered you were a part of it. The young ladies that came out into society all had the same goal in mind, marry the one person who can give you the best live, with love only being a small part in those arrangements.

Your family had moved away from London after the passing of your mother. Your father couldn’t cope with the memories London held and decided to move towards the Netherlands. He went back every so often for business and travelled around a lot, giving you and your brothers all the freedom you would never have had in London. You had come out into society a couple years back already, your father needed to handle some business in London and took you with him. That way you could be presented at court and he could take you to the debutant ball before travelling back to the Netherlands. He wanted you to be out in society, just so you could have gotten married if there had been any eligible men. But there you were returning to London, joining society and the ton for real this time.

“It will be alright.” Thomas tried to calm your nerves while he helped you out of the carriage. Your father still had to arrive in London, meaning your brothers escorted you to your first ball of the season. You didn’t really mind, this way you could get used to the pressure of the ton again without your father constantly watching over you.

As the oldest Thomas always felt the urge to support and protect you, and he saw it as his duty to find you someone who suited you perfectly. Nicholas on the other hand was more easy going, he looked out for you as well but he was always open to let you try new things. Both of them were the reason you had been able to do things a lady would never be able to do otherwise.

The three of you walked into the ballroom, heads of many men turning your way. You knew they were mostly just curious, especially the slightly older men who had yet to marry. A new woman your age was rare but here you were. “You remember any of these men?” You asked Thomas

“Some of them, old friends. Not sure if they are the right suitors." He answered honestly

“We will figure out who is for you.” Nicholas

After an hour of introductions, catching up with old friends and even a dance you noticed no other than the Duke of Hastings joining the room. “Will you excuse me for a moment?” You excused yourself from your current company and quickly made your way through the crowd. “Your Grace!” you greeted your old friend before quickly making a small curtesy as was expected of you.

“Lady y/n, have they finally convinced you to join society?” Simon returned the curtesy “Convinced is a big word your Grace, forced me comes closer.” You tried to brush it off with a joke "Well I'm sure there are a lot of eligible gentlemen that are glad you did." He had already noticed multiple men looking your way. "How wonderful." You answered sarcastically. “To what does the ton owe the pleasure of a visit from its newest Duke?” “I was forced to be here as well.” “I didn’t know it was possible for a Duke to be forced into doing anything.” “Tell that to Lady Danbury, she doesn’t take no for answer.” “She can be very convincing.” You agreed. “At least we will be able to suffer together, shall we go for a walk around the room.” He suggested “It would be my pleasure, your Grace.” You said before linking your arm and walking with him. Your walk mostly consisted of him telling what he came to do and the fact that you were forced to search a husband. That was until your conversation was harshly interrupted by a man. “Basset? Basset!”

“Bridgerton!” Simon excitedly greeted his friend as he let go of you.

“Come here old friend, I heard news about your father.” It only then seemed to hit the man what that meant for Simons name “Hastings, for ever more known as the Duke of Hastings.”

You observed the gentleman as they continued their conversation, your mother had been friends with the viscountess when you were little, but your mother often kept you away from the boys. She felt like you were already influenced greatly by your brothers and didn’t want others to do the same. Because of that you couldn’t immediately point out if this was either the Viscount you were looking at or Benedict. The man’s eye fell on you and you made a small curtesy, which he returned with a bow of his head. Before turning back to Simon “I can see you are occupied right now. So we should properly get together, I expect to see you at our club then.”

“Indeed, evening Bridgerton.” Simon bid his goodbyes to his friend and continued his walk with you “Was that Benedict or the Viscount?” You asked Simon “That was The Viscount, Anthony. You know the Bridgertons?” “My mother was friends with the Viscountess, but I didn’t go as often as she or my brothers. To many men to influence me. “That certainly made a difference.” You shook your head “Is your father escorting you this evening?” “No Thomas and Nicholas are, father will arrive in London in three days.” “You don’t seem to excited for that?” Simon noticed your change in mood “It’s not that I’m not excited to see him, but I just hope he doesn’t expect me to be married at the end of the season.” “You know he probably will.” “That is what I am afraid of.” You agreed. “Let’s go the other way.” Simon suddenly said, softly pushing you in a different direction then you were walking.

“Lady y/n, how wonderful to see you finally joining society. Haven’t you grown in a beautiful young woman.” “To late.” Simon whispered, causing you to let a small chuckle escape. “Thank you, Lady Danbury.” You curtsied as you got your act together again “It’s so wonderful to see you, how have you been?" “I’ve been wonderful dear. I see you’ve already met the Duke.” Lady Danbury seemed a bit too happy with herself “The Duke and I have actually known each other for a couple years.” “Have you now?” It wasn’t often Lady Danbury wasn’t aware of everything that happened within society and it seemed she wasn’t too happy about it.

“We have, we met in France actually.” Simon told her.

“Very well, then is there a reason we haven’t seen the two of you on the dance floor yet?”

“Let’s not get to far ahead of ourselves.” Simon insisted. After some small talk you excused yourself to go find your brothers again “I’ll see you around Lady y/n.” Simon told you.

At one point during the evening you were caught in a dull conversation with Lord Berbrooke. Every time Lord Berbrooke came a little closer you took a small step back, keeping your distance until you bumped into the woman behind you. “I am so sorry.”

“That is quite alright, dear.” The woman smiled, she seemed very familiar but you couldn’t quite place her. Lord Berbrooke kept continuing his one sided conversation with you and you kept looking around the room for an escape. When you spotted Simon again in a corner, observing the room and you as well. “Ask me to dance.” You mouthed towards Simon to get him to save you. You were lucky enough he understood you and he paced towards the two of you.

“Lord Berbrooke may I interrupt?

“Your Grace, of course.” Lord Berbrooke seemed caught off guard that the duke wanted to join his conversation and Simon used the moment to turn his attention to you.

“Lady y/n would you care for a dance?

“Of course your Grace.” He held out his hand which you happily accepted “Thank you for saving me.” You whispered once out of hearing distance.

“You owe me one, a big one.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time you are distressed by a mother.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

As the music started the two of you moved across the room as if you had never done anything else. “For someone who doesn’t dance, you are quite skilled your Grace.” y/n grinned

“Do you want me to return you to Lord Berbrooke or will you stop the teasing.”

“I’ll be stopping the teasing at once your Grace.” You laughed

“Thank you.” When the set ended Simon guided you off the floor, the furthest away from Nigel and escorted you back to your brothers.

“I heard of the presence of the Duke of Hastings, I did not expect him to act on my sister so soon.” Thomas joked when he saw the two of you walking over.

“Only saving her from some unwanted suitor.” He held his hands up in defense before greeting Thomas.

“I didn’t expect anything else from her old friend. Was lord Berbrooke bothering you?”

“He was.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Thomas promised you.

“Thank you.”

“Before I forget I ran into Lady Bridgerton, she invited us for dinner with her family.” Thomas informed you “I already accepted her invitation, if that’s alright with you.”

“I’m sure we will have a lot of catching up to do with them.” You agreed The rest of the evening consisted of more dancing, conversations and introductions. Simon stayed close to the three of you most of the evening, as it gave him an easy excuse not to converse with other. And you caught the eye of many more men. You were even re introduced to three members of the Birdgerton family. As soon as Thomas had done that you knew the familiar woman you had bumped into earlier that night, had been Lady Bridgerton herself. You apologized once more for bumping into her earlier, but she played it off with a joke. Your re introduction to the Bridgerton family resulted in a dance with both Benedict and Colin. Where dancing with the other men made you slightly nervous, dancing with them felt familiar. Just as your dance with Simon had, it was as if you never done anything else. It had only been your first evening back into society, everything in you told you this could be an interesting season.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

winged cupid painted blind // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: I’d really love something based on love story by Taylor Swift. The lines “We keep quite cuz we’re dead if they knew” and “take me somewhere we can be alone” stick out to me //  I was thinking that the reader could be from a family that isn’t well off and her and Anthony meet at a ball somehow. They create a ruse that she’s from a well known family so that the gossips in the ton don’t attack her because Anthony has fallen in love with a “commoner.” All the Bridgertons are in on the ruse and at the end of the story Anthony proposes - @whovianwholikesgirls

A/N: Why is it that every Bridgerton fic I write, I end up writing thousands and thousands of words? This is long and I am sorry for that! As always, I hope I have done your request justice and that I hope you like!

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: she/her pronouns, female reader, class divides, pining, mutual pining, lots of fluff, dancing, kissing, happy ending, Anthony in love.

Word count: 7.7k

Madame Delacroix’s took up the central property on the most prosperous street coming just off of Grosvenor Square. The most popular modiste in London, many of society’s richest families flocked to her door in order to claim their own dress made by the talented seamstress.

Anthony sighs as he climbs down from the carriage. His mother must be in a particular benevolent mood to send him to pick up her newest dress from the modiste. Anthony would much rather be spending his day at his club, but he finds himself ringing the modiste’s bell for service.

“Monsieur Bridgerton!” Madame Delacroix smiles, delighted at the sight of the Viscount. “How can I help you?” She asks, her smile turning flirtatious.

Anthony responds with his own flirtatious smile. “I’m here to pick up a dress for my mother.”

“Of course, of course,” Madame Delacroix sings, “I have it over here. I finished it last night. It is divine!”

“My mother will surely thank you,” Anthony states earnestly, his gaze dancing around the room filled to the brim with fabrics and ribbons, models and hoops.

“No need,” Madame Delacroix, “The Bridgertons are my best customers.”

Anthony takes the offered box, marvelling at the lightness of its weight. For all the skirts, for all the numerous pieces of fabric that go into making a dress, Anthony will always remain shocked at the featherlight weight of it.

“Will Lady Bridgerton be wearing this to the Hastings’ ball tonight?” The modiste asks, her tone light as she tries her best to keep the burning curiosity out of her voice.

“Most likely,” Anthony smiles, tipping his head in goodbye.

The modiste calls out her goodbyes as Anthony walks out the door. He doesn’t pay much attention to where he is going; only knowing that he needs to turn left in order to reach his carriage. The very thought has him rushing, safe in the knowledge that the quicker he got his done, the quicker he would be at his club.

It’s that self-indulgent thought that had Anthony distracted enough to walk into something hard.

“Oh!” A feminine voice gasps as Anthony catches her elbow whilst keeping a tight hold on the dress box.

“My apologies,” Anthony offers, steadying the unknown woman.

“You’re forgiven,” She murmurs dryly, turning her attention back to the seamstresses window.

“You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine. Thank you for your concern, Lord Bridgerton.”

“My pleasure, Miss…”

“(Y/L/N).”

“My pleasure, Miss (Y/L/N),” Anthony repeats, adjusting the dress box in his hands. He goes to say something else but notices her slyly counting the money in her purse, watching her frown when she realises she cannot afford the prices set by Madame Delacroix.

“Have a nice day, Lord Bridgerton,” Miss (Y/L/N) remarks, stepping away from the Viscount to begin her walk home. She didn’t need a Viscount to be witness to her money troubles; she had thought she had enough, but the prices must have been increased since the last time she had wandered past the window. It would be another two weeks of saving before she could afford a new set of ribbons; it wasn’t worth it at this point, she sighed to herself.

“You too!” Anthony shouts to her retreating figure, feeling upset on her behalf that she could not afford the ribbons she was so dazedly admiring. Shaking off the uncomfortable feeling, Anthony climbs into the carriage, thinking of the young woman all the way home.

-----

“Jayne!” (Y/N) laughs, “Slow down! I’m going to lose a shoe.”

“Alright, Cinderella,” Jayne snickers, slowing her pace as she climbs the winding staircase to the home of the Duke and Duchess of Hastings.

“Have you ever seen such a home?” (Y/N) gasps; eyes widening as she takes in the grand structure. The brickwork is immaculate; many red bricks painted black to give the impression of a crosshatch pattern spreading across the building. This is only highlighted by the many windows; all seemingly lit by a countless number of candles and sconces.

“(Y/N)!” Jayne shouts, “Stop admiring the building! We have a dance to get to.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” (Y/N) laughs, hurrying after her friend who has already handed over their invitation.

Jayne grips (Y/N)’s hand tightly as they enter the ballroom together. The event is in full swing; the dancefloor already full with couples dancing a quadrille.

“Would you dance with me?” The handsome brunette asks of Jayne, staring at her hopefully. Jayne casts her gaze to (Y/N), not wanting to leave her friend, but wanting very much to dance with the handsome man.

(Y/N) nudges Jayne forward, answering for her. “She would be delighted.”

Jayne sends her a thankful smile as she joins more and more couples on the dancefloor.

The drinks table isn’t busy at all as (Y/N) wanders over. She makes sure to keep an eye on Jayne, watching her dance with what looks to be a Rokesby. (Y/N) shakes her head fondly at her friend; ten minutes into a ball and she’s already caught the attention of a member of one of the richest families in England.

Turning her attention away from her friend, (Y/N) reaches for a glass of lemonade when her hand brushes with a man clearly wanting the same glass. (Y/N) pulls her hand away, not wanting to cause any trouble at a ball she wasn’t even invited to.

“My apologies,” She murmurs, grabbing another glass from the many.

“You’re forgiven,” A voice drawls. (Y/N) glances upwards through her lashes to find Anthony Bridgerton watching her with a confused expression.

“Lord Bridgerton,” (Y/N) greets, curtseying lightly at the sight of her superior.

Anthony nods. He remains silent as he stands next to her; it’s not an awkward silence, rather, one where (Y/N) can practically hear the cogs and gears winding in Anthony’s mind, trying to figure out where he knows her from. If he knows her at all.

“I met you this morning,” Anthony recalls suddenly, snapping his fingers together when he remembers why he recognises the woman standing next to him.

“You almost knocked me over,” She states wryly, lifting her glass to her lips to take a tentative sip of the lukewarm lemonade.

“I believe I apologised for that, Miss (Y/L/N).”

“Call me (Y/N). And I forgave you,” She states simply, “But It doesn’t mean I’m going to let you forget it, however.”

“I’d be disappointed in you, if you did.”

(Y/N) laughs. The very sound music to Anthony’s ears and he briefly wonders whether he could have the sound imprinted on his brain; to hear her laughter for an eternity.

“What are you doing here?” Anthony asks, taking a pull of his lemonade before wrinkling his nose. Too sweet, not sour enough. “Are you here with your parents?”

“I wasn’t technically invited,” She confesses to the Viscount in a conspiratorial whisper. Anthony’s eyes widen when her words land, “What?”

“I came to chaperone my friend, Jayne. You may know her, she’s Lord Dorchester’s daughter.”

Anthony nods; he knew the man well, drank with him a few times at his club – dreadfully dull with a fascination for military history. Much like many of the men of his father’s generation.

“Anyway,” (Y/N) continues, “Jayne wanted to go, but needed a chaperone as her mother has taken ill – nothing serious thankfully. I was the next best option so here I am.”

“Here you are,” Anthony parrots, enunciating every syllable as his eyes pour over her figure. “If you weren’t invited, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a governess for Lord and Lady Saville,” She answers proudly; a happy smile on her face as she thinks of her students.

“I hated my governess,” Anthony confesses with a laugh. “I don’t care much for Latin which she knew so she would make me do double the work.”

(Y/N) snorts. “Latin is a very useful language; it’s a good skill to have.”

“I know that now,” Anthony gripes, “I just didn’t know that at ten years old.”

Silence descends between them. Again, not uncomfortable, but a natural stopping point in their conversation. After all, titled gentleman such as the man stood beside her didn’t speak to her occupation outside of a brief conversation about their child’s progress in their education.

(Y/N) places her finished glass of lemonade back on the table before smoothing out the deep blue skirts of her borrowed dress. She clears her throat, ready to make her excuses and check on Jayne when Anthony speaks first.

“Would you care to dance?”

“Pardon?”

“Would you like to dance with me?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why not?”

“I’m a governess, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Call me Anthony, please.”

“That still doesn’t change the fact that you’re supposed to dance with someone of your own class, Anthony.”

“I don’t want to dance with them. I want to dance with you.”

His argument is straight to the point; no beating around the bush that (Y/N) finds it hard to find fault with it. Instead, she sighs, “One dance.”

“One dance,” Anthony promises, holding out his hand for her to grasp.

She didn’t expect to find herself the centre of the Viscount’s attention, but she cannot bring herself to mind much. Not as he holds out a hand for her to take; not as he leads to her to the dancefloor and not as he settles a palm against her lower back. The feel of his hand feeling so right that she loses the power of speech.

The music begins and (Y/N) travels to a new place entirely. The room melts away; the couples, the families. They all disappear. The only two people in the room are her and Anthony; his blue eyes fixed on her as they start to circle the room in waltz. There’s no need for conversation; all words passed by looks alone.

When the music dies and the room fades back into view, (Y/N) only wonders whether she would feel like this again, whether they would be anyone to make her feel like this again. As Anthony bows and kisses her hand, (Y/N) has her answer.

----------

He doesn’t stop thinking about her. She left soon after they finished dancing; her friend finding her and asking whether she was ready to leave. Anthony wanted to argue; wanted to reach for (Y/N) and pull her back to his embrace where they could dance the night away.

Anthony returned home and went straight to his room. He undressed mechanically; still thinking of her as he slipped between his sheets and tried to fall asleep only to find that sleep was a fickle friend that would not be granting him a visit tonight.

He remains awake; thinking of every aspect of her. He didn’t think he would see her again after the modiste; it was a shock to find her at the ball, but he took the opportunity with both hands to find that he had quickly become infatuated with her.

Could this be called love? Anthony rolls over in bed; tangling himself up in the sheets as he runs a hand up and down his bare chest, thinking the question over and over.

He felt as if he had hit by the arrow of Cupid; as if he had handed himself over voluntarily to be pricked with one of the god’s arrows. He’s never felt like this; no woman had ever kept him awake at night in such a manner.

Groaning, Anthony reaches for the pillow on the other side of the bed, hugging it to his chest. All the while, he dreams it was her body he was pressing close to.

The day after the Ball, Anthony strides from his study to his mother’s drawing room. There, he sits next to his beloved mother, and asks her to gather his siblings for a family meeting.

They arrive one by one. The youngest arriving first; a simple call from the bottom of the stairs has Gregory and Hyacinth rushing to the drawing room, each one adamant that they didn’t do it, but rather their sibling. Anthony shakes his head in exasperation, not wanting to know what they were referring to and instead, asks them to take a seat on the pale blue couch in front of the window.

Over the course of an hour, Anthony’s family arrive. Each one just as curious as the last, each one just as questioning as the last. “Why have you gathered us here, Anthony?” Daphne sighs, her hand resting on Simon’s knee.

“I’ve met someone,” Anthony announces. He frowns at the shocked gasps from Daphne and Eloise; was he really so incapable of finding himself a wife? He ignores the jibes from them both, turning to face his dear mother.

Violet Bridgerton sits in her favourite chair; the one next to it empty as it has been for the last decade. Edmund Bridgerton died so suddenly, and their love was so strong, Anthony knew that there was no recovery from it. “Do we know her?” She asks; her face showing the happiness she feels for her eldest son.

“No,” Anthony sighs, settling down next to his youngest sister, Hyacinth. She offers him a sweet smile as he sits; Anthony cannot help but return the smile and ruffle her hair. When the moment is over, Anthony focuses his attention back onto his family who he finds is watching him intently. “She’s a governess,” He admits, straightening in his seat.

“A respectable profession,” Eloise states with a smile. Anthony feels a rush of affection for his sister; he had always been wary for her outspokenness, but right now, he could thank her heartily.

“What’s the problem, Anthony?” Eloise continues, crossing her ankles, leaning forward in interest.

“I think she may have feelings for me as well, but she’s hesitant to act on them because of our differences.”

“Differences?” Hyacinth questions curiously; unaware of such class differences at such a young age.

“(Y/N) is a governess. I am a Viscount,” Anthony explains, “It would be the subject of gossip for years to come should anything happen between us.”

“So we come up with another story,” Francesca suggests, shrugging her shoulders as if her suggestion was always the answer.

“Another story?” Daphne wonders, eyes glancing between her husband and her family.

“We create a ruse,” Francesca explains to her elder sister. “A story for (Y/N) and Anthony to follow when out in public.”

“Do you think she would go along with this?” Benedict asks; his tone wary as he thinks of the possible implications this could have for his family.

Anthony remains silent, tapping a finger against his cheek as he thinks of whether (Y/N) would follow such a ruse. “Why don’t we ask her? I can send a summons.”

Violet, who had been watching the whole exchange in silence, nods. “Send her a message asking her to come as quick as she can. Tell her it isn’t an emergency, but that you would like to talk to her.”

Anthony nods; rushing from the drawing room to his study to pen such a message. After that, he calls on one of the footmen, handing them the letter and the strict duty of delivering this to (Y/N) personally. The footman nods; his face serious as he takes the letter from his employer’s hand, all but sprinting out of the door.

Anthony returns to the drawing room; taking his seat next to Hyacinth.

“Did you send the missive?” Violet asks. Anthony nods; doing his best to keep his heart from beating right out of his chest. “I sent it with one of the footmen,” He answers, “It shouldn’t be long now.”

His family all nod, breaking off into separate conversations whilst Anthony remains stoic and silent. His leg bounces repeatedly; the only outward sign of his anxiety. Internally, he nerves were fraught. He couldn’t help but wonder whether this was all too much; he knew from their first meeting that Anthony would do anything for her, but if (Y/N) didn’t return such feelings then it was all for nothing.

Worries and thoughts continue to plague him as Anthony catches sight of Daphne leaning into Simon. It’s a small movement, almost imperceptible, but Anthony cannot miss the devoted smile that crosses Simon’s face when he feels his wife press against him.

Longing breaks within Anthony’s chest, spreading through his body, leaving behind an ache that he doesn’t know how to heal.

“Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” introduces the Butler, breaking Anthony’s longing in half.

He stands all too fast, appearing all too eager. Anthony shoots a glare in his brother’s direction when he hears their sniggering.

(Y/N) rushes into the room; her eyes filled with panic when she finds herself in front of the whole Bridgerton clan. “Anthony?” She whispers; her eyes finally meeting his from across the room.

“(Y/N),” He breathes, “Thank you for coming.”

“You told me not to worry, but you sounded so urgent.”

“We wanted to talk to you,” He explains, gesturing to his whole family. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

(Y/N) sits; her mind running a thousand miles a minute as she finds herself being watched by every Bridgerton/Basset in the room. The room is silent; too silent – no-one dares broach the subject first. They don’t want to anger Anthony or ruin his chances with (Y/N).

“Whatever is the matter?” (Y/N) finally asks, breaking the silence.

“We’ve come to understand that you and Anthony have feelings for each other,” Violet states quite plainly.

(Y/N) fidgets, somewhat uncomfortable with this line of questioning. “I guess you could say that,” She offers, smiling smally at the aforementioned man.

“We also know that you’re worried about the differences between Anthony and yourself,” Violet continues to which Eloise huffs, crossing her arms in anger at the state of the class differences within England.

“It’s not so much worried,” (Y/N) explains, “It’s more resigned to the fact.”

Violet nods, understanding where the young governess is coming from. “Francesca,” Violet starts, nodding to the brunette sitting by one of Anthony’s brothers, “Has come up with an idea that we would like to run by you.”

“Oh?”

“It would mean that you and Anthony would be able to begin a courtship.”

(Y/N) feels herself flush; her face heating with how open the Bridgerton family were about their emotions. Their family unit so healthy and happy that everyone felt at ease to talk about whatever was on their minds.

“What did you have in mind?” (Y/N) asks, turning to face Francesca who responds with a large smile.

“We’re going to create a backstory for you. Not something terribly complicated, but something that you and Anthony can follow whilst out in public.”

“Okay…” (Y/N) whispers hesitantly, “What’s the backstory you’ve created?”

Francesca begins to look sheepish. “I haven’t thought of that part yet… I didn’t think Anthony would go for the first part.”

(Y/N) laughs; a light and airy sound that has Anthony straightening in his seat, smiling automatically. “Why don’t we come up with it together?”

“So you’re willing to go along with it?” Anthony asks; his voice unwaveringly hopeful as he refuses to look at anyone but (Y/N).

Something in his face has her nodding. “For as long as you’ll have me,” She answers earnestly, almost breathless when Anthony smiles widely in return.

“This is what I’ve thought of so far,” Colin announces, breaking the moment between Anthony and (Y/N).

The family turn to Colin to find him sat forward on his seat, an eager look across his face as he begins to lay out his plans. Anthony smiles and nods; happy with every word leaving his brother’s mouth.

(Y/N) cannot help but feel an ounce of doubt; not so much at the plan, but for longevity of it. How long would it be before Anthony realised she was not worth it? How long would it before the class difference between them became too much? She dreaded the day but knew it would be upon her before she realised.

----------

The annual picnic in Hyde Park drew in every affable family in London. After all, it was another excuse for mother’s to parade their daughters to the many eligible gentleman. For the gentlemen, it was a free lunch with whichever gazebo they chose to throw themselves upon.

The Bridgertons had been attending this picnic for many years; their station in society meaning that they were personally invited by the monarch. Violet took pride in her set up, making sure her cook’s famous biscuits were on display and that there was plenty of tea to go around. She also ensured that her family had the perfect view of the Serpentine; not too close for her children to fall in, but not too far for it to be out of sight. It was not a sorry affair.

(Y/N) had joined the family happily; talking briefly with Colin and Eloise before Hyacinth monopolised her attention. (Y/N) didn’t mind; she had taught many young girls the same age as Hyacinth and found them all a delight to educate. Hyacinth would be no different.

It wasn’t long, however, before Anthony joined her side. His hand settled comfortably on the small of her back, liking the way that she stepped closer to him, as if wanting to be in his presence all the time.  

“Did you have fun the other night?” Anthony questions, thinking back to Daphne’s ball when (Y/N) had smiled at him as he lead her across the dancefloor.

(Y/N) smiles. “I did. I had a lot of fun.”

“How are you feeling about our ruse?” Anthony queries, catching sight of Lady Featherington marching across the many blankets in the direction of the Bridgerton patch.

“Confident,” (Y/N) answers, “Why do you ask?”

Anthony smiles; shifting his position slightly so he can hear every word of the conversation about to happen. He ducks his head, his mouth close to her ear as he answers, “Because it’s about to be put to the test.”

“Lady Bridgerton,” Lady Featherington calls; her gaudy green gown shimmering in the sunlight as she teeters her way to the matriarch of the fine family.

“Lady Featherington,” Violet greets, her voice as polite as ever. “How are you?”

Lady Featherington smiles at Violet; her gaze glancing around the colourful blankets and gazebo set out for the Bridgerton family to remain comfortable as the picnic progresses. Lady Featherington smiles when her eyes find the figure she was looking for. (Y/N) stands to the side, wrapped up in a conversation with Anthony that certainly looks to be a private one.

Lady Featherington nods towards (Y/N); the fascinator attached to her threatening to slip into her eyes. “You have a new addition to your family, Lady Bridgerton,” Lady Featherington states; no infliction of a question but one inferred all the same.

“(Y/N) is a distant friend of the family,” Violet answers breezily, “She hails from a wealthy family just outside of Leeds.”

“Leeds?”

Violet nods. “Yes, Leeds. It’s just over 20 miles outside of York, perhaps you’ve been?”

Lady Featherington smiles tightly at Violet. She smooths down the green panels of her dress. “A handful of times, Lady Bridgerton. After all, my side of the family hails from Manchester. The two aren’t so far removed.”

“Of course,” Violet appeases, “How does your family fare? I’d heard your mother was ill.”

Lady Featherington continues to smile graciously at the Dowager Viscount. Her eyes are brimming with warning and curiosity, but her smile is forced. “Mother is doing much better, she travelled to the coast. The latest journals are saying sea air helps with fragile conditions.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Lady Featherington nods her thanks to Violet before making her excuses. Violet’s shoulders shake with silent laughter as she watches the notorious gossip walk away from her gazebo. Lady Featherington’s shoulders are tight with displeasure as she marches back to her own plot.

Violet returns to the stitching in her lap after a brief glance towards her youngest children. Gregory and Hyacinth occupied with Benedict and Colin as the older of the set teach their younger siblings games from their youth. Violet smiles at her children; content to return to the pattern at hand, the Dutch Tulips would not stitch themselves.

“What was Lady Featherington talking to you about?” Anthony asks. His face the very picture of innocence as he breaks his mother’s concentration and grabs two biscuits – one for him, the other he hands to (Y/N).

“She was fishing for information on our dear (Y/N),” Violet comments, observing her stitching to ensure it remains straight. “She didn’t find out a thing other than what we discussed.”

(Y/N) lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you, Lady Bridgerton.”

Violet waves away her gratitude with a dismissive hand. “You’re making my son happy; I’ll protect that and you with all that I have.”

(Y/N) flounders for a moment at the quick acceptance by Violet. She smiles at the matriarch; whispering her thanks to Violet, ducking her head as she tries to come to terms with rush of emotions coursing through her body.

Anthony returns his attention to the conversation; his mind no longer focused on way to distract Lady Featherington. He flashes a smile in (Y/N)’s direction; his heart racing when she sends her own smile back.

“(Y/N) and I are going to promenade, mother. You’ll be fine without us?”

Violet snorts. “Yes, dear. I have my seven other children to keep me company.”

Anthony rolls his eyes fondly at his mother. He presses a sweet kiss to her cheek before offering (Y/N) his arm.

They amble along the path; all the while aware of the maid sent by Violet shortly after they departed. Violet trusts (Y/N) implicitly, but she knows the reputation of her eldest son. The poor opera singer being prime evidence of his abilities to break hearts as quickly as he mends them.

“You look beautiful, by the way. In case I haven’t told you,” Anthony flirts, a handsome smile spreading across his face.

“You haven’t, but I’ll take the compliment now.”

Anthony laughs, throwing his head back in delight as they both pause their walk. “You are though,” Anthony murmurs, reaching out to brush a finger down (Y/N)’s cheek, “You’re beautiful.”

(Y/N) averts her gaze; her cheeks flushing from the unexpected compliment. Anthony glances on either side of them, catching sight of the maid only a few feet away, doing her best to nonchalantly follow them. Anthony turns his attention back to the woman in front of him, desperate for a moment alone with her. A wicked grin spreads across his face, “Follow me.”

“What?”

“Follow me,” Anthony repeats, stepping off the path and onto the grass. He gestures to a faint path; one less travelled. “Do you trust me?”

(Y/N) answers by taking his outstretched hand, letting herself be led down the lesser known path.

Their pace slows when they are certain they have lost their chaperone. (Y/N) feels a twinge of guilt as she thinks of the poor maid who was only doing what she was asked by her employer, but then she catches sight of the unbridled glee on Anthony’s face and her guilt is quickly replaced by anticipation.

“Where are we going?” She asks; her voice jostling slightly as she tries to watch Anthony and not trip over any loose twigs or stones.

“Nowhere in particular,” Anthony confesses, “I just wanted you to myself for a little bit.”

His pace slows; they’re a good distance away from the picnic party, they wouldn’t be interrupted by anyone.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Anthony wonders as he comes to a stop. His hands settle on her waist and she has do all that she can to focus on the conversation and not the fact that she can feel the heat of his skin through the fabric of her dress.  

“You can tell me anything.”

“I like spending time with you. You make me…” Anthony trails off as he thinks of the word, “Happy. Yes, you make me happy.”

“You make me happy too.”

“If you want me to stop,” Anthony whispers, bending to press a line of kisses from her cheek to the corner of her mouth, “You need to tell me now.”

“Don’t stop,” She whispers, fisting her hands in the lapels of his jacket, tugging him forward.

Anthony kissed her carefully, as if afraid he would ruin her from the very moment their lips touched. What he didn’t realise, however, was that he had ruined her from the instant they met. He might not have realised it, but she knew. She knew that from that one conversation, that one touch to her elbow, she would be ruined for other men.

His mouth is gentle, hesitant. By the way he groans low in his throat, Anthony does not expect (Y/N) to react the way she does. Gasping against his mouth, pressing herself against him as her lips open under his. The kiss becomes hurried; oxygen becoming a distant thought of the past as (Y/N) tastes the lemon biscuits Anthony had stolen from his mother’s table.

Breaking the kiss, the couple each suck in ragged breaths. Shy smiles break out across either of their faces, not having expected such a thing to happen to between them. A short laugh leaves Anthony’s lips as he keeps (Y/N) wrapped up in his embrace. Neither of them feel the need to say a word; happy to let the time pass between them in complete silence.

“We should probably get back,” (Y/N) eventually murmurs against Anthony’s cheek, the slight stubble scratching her skin.

Anthony releases a choked sound. “I don’t want to,” He confesses, “I want to stay here with you.”

(Y/N) pulls back, brushing a gloved hand against Anthony’s cheek. He leans into the touch; finding himself enraptured by the woman in front of him. “I want to stay with you too,” She whispers, “But your family will be looking for us.”

Anthony sighs, breaking the embrace entirely. He holds her hand; tangling their fingers together. If he could, he wouldn’t let go of her at all. He would keep her with him at all times; he likes to be in her presence, doesn’t want to be without it. However, society and duty calls, and he must return. However, he would be damned if he was to let go of her hand before then.

“Alright,” He concedes, beginning the walk back to the picnic.

The walk is quiet, but comfortable. Their hands remained tangled even as they arrive back to the Bridgertons. His brother’s throw Anthony a knowing glance which Anthony ignores. He knows his mother will have a strict word with him later, but he has more pressing matters on his mind – his future and the woman now sitting with his youngest siblings.

He’s found his forever; he just needs to keep it.

-----

“Miss (Y/L/N),” the Butler begins, interrupting the governess as she marks her student’s latest set of handwriting, “A Viscount Bridgerton to see you?”

“Oh!” She gasps, standing from her seat far too quickly. The inkpot on her desk spills, sapphire blue ink spreading across the multitude of papers thrown about her desk. As she watches the puddle grow, she begins to feel a deep sense of dread spread through her being.

“Shall I show him in?” The Butler asks, also watching the ink stain spread.

“Have you already made Lord and Lady Saville aware of his presence?”

“Yes, miss. They’re the ones who told me to fetch him to you.”

“Then yes, show him in please,” (Y/N) answers, staring forlornly at the ruined paper and wasted ink. The Butler makes a sympathetic noise before opening the door further for Anthony to enter.

“Darling,” Anthony greets. He goes to speak further but spies the growing blue stain. “What happened here?”

“I stood up too quickly,” (Y/N) complains. “It’s gone everywhere, and I can’t afford another bottle right now.”

“That’s no problem. I’ll get you a bottle.”

(Y/N) fixes the man with an unimpressed look. “No you won’t. I don’t want you buying things for me.”

“It won’t be bought. I have a stock of ink back at Bridgerton House due to the amount of correspondence I have. You can have a couple of pots; I will not miss it.”

“Oh… well, thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Anthony smiles. “Now that’s sorted, I came here to ask you a question.”

“You have?”

“I have. Would you attend the Shakespearean ball? With me?” His voice has a note of vulnerability in it as he voices his question.

“What?” She asks, “As in arrive with you, on your arm?”

“Yes,” Anthony states slowly, “You would come with me and my family.”

She begins to pace the room; her hands wringing together as she tries to calm the pounding of her heart and mind. “Are you sure this is the path you want to go down?” She asks Anthony; her voice begging for a truthful answer.

“What do you mean?”

“This is getting very serious very fast, Anthony. This plan isn’t going to work forever; the ton will find out that I’m a governess and the ruse will be over. This could ruin your entire family, Anthony.”

“Hey,” Anthony hushes, interrupting her pacing. He reaches for her hand with one hand whilst the other cups her cheek. She automatically leans into the touch, sending a thrill through Anthony’s aching soul. “Nothing’s going to happen,” He reassures with a gentle tone, “Should anything happen, we can do damage control.”

“I don’t want to be the ruin of your family, Anthony,” (Y/N) whispers, her eyes lined with unshed tears. She could never forgive herself if the Bridgertons were socially injured by her lack of money relating to her lack of status. (Y/N) could not help the hand of cards she was dealt at birth, but society dictates her station, and hers was so far below Anthony’s it was any wonder that he noticed her in the first place. It was a dream to be accepted by his family; she didn’t want to be the cause of their ruination.

“You aren’t going to be the ruin of my family,” Anthony assures, brushing under her eyes with his thumbs to wipe away the tears that have fallen. “You’re going to be the making of it. I want you in my life, (Y/N). I want to see where this goes.”

“You do?”

“I do. I haven’t felt like this for a long time, I want to see where this feeling takes me.”

“Okay,” She concedes, doing her best to stop the tears falling, “I’ll go to the ball with you.”

“You will?”

“I will.”

The smile that spreads across Anthony’s face makes it all worth it. He presses a kiss to her forehead, then another to her nose, to her cheek before finally kissing her in earnest. She hums against his mouth; getting lost in the feel of him.

“It’ll be worth it,” Anthony whispers. “All of this is worth it.”

“You’re worth it,” (Y/N) states quietly, pulling him back in for another kiss.

----

Lady Danbury was one of two women in London that could throw a memorable ball. The other being Violet Bridgerton. For her theme this year, Lady Danbury had chosen the works of the Elizabethan bard, William Shakespeare. For what could be more romantic than dressing as characters immortalised in his plays and sonnets?

Anthony would not tell (Y/N) one whisper of his costume; kept it a secret from her despite her barrage of questions. As revenge, she kept quiet about her costume, refusing to tell the man the colour of her dress.

The two walk into the ballroom with (Y/N)’s hand resting on Anthony’s forearm; her nerves rattle as she walks further into the room. She knew she had no reason to be nervous; Anthony and his family would protect her from whatever form of gossip falls her way, but she could not help the turning of her stomach as she walked passed many disappointed mothers who had hoped Anthony would pay their daughters the slightest bit of attention.

The music is loud; the laughter lightening the atmosphere and the dancers in full swing as (Y/N) begins to feel comfortable. Having taught many a child Shakespeare, (Y/N) spent a lot of time trying to decipher the characters in attendance tonight. She had already seen three Violas, four Benedicks, and six Olivias.  

“I have to go talk to someone,” Anthony says apologetically, interrupting her guessing game, “I won’t be long. Will you be okay without me?”

(Y/N) nods. “Go. I’m sure I’ll find someone to talk to.”

Anthony presses a lingering kiss to her cheek, whispering as he does so, “A marvel amongst women.”

“You’re nothing but a flirt,” She laughs, batting the love of her life away. “Go talk business.”

“As you wish,” Anthony laughs, mock-bowing before leaving (Y/N) to wander the ball alone. Moments pass before she finds someone she recognises. “Colin,” She greets happily, “Who have you come as?”

“Romeo Montague,” Colin answers, stretching his arms wide to show off his rather fetching garb.

“How wonderful,” She laughs, watching the Bridgerton strike a pose in his costume.

“Who knows,” Colin teases, “Maybe tonight I’ll find my Juliet.”

(Y/N) laughs once more, batting the man away when he wiggles his eyebrows at her in a suggestive manner. “Off with you,” She snorts, “I’m sure there are plenty of ladies for you to dance with.”

Colin departs with a bow of his head. (Y/N) rolls her eyes at the antics of the younger man; Colin knew full well of the line of ladies waiting for his signature of their dance cards, but something warms in (Y/N)’s chest when she watches Colin walk straight to Penelope Featherington.

“They’d make a fine pair if he would pull his head out,” A voice full of humour sounds from behind her.

(Y/N) startles. She turns to find Anthony watching her; his lips curled in a manner that suggested he was holding back the laughter he so desperately wanted to let out.

“You made me jump,” She hisses, batting his outstretched hand away.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Anthony coos, pulling (Y/N) into his embrace by pulling on one of the many skirts about her waist. (Y/N) flushes at the term of endearment, but also at the many pairs of eyes now watching the young couple.

“You’re forgiven,” She sighs. “Who have you dressed as?” She asks, changing the subject.

“Ferdinand,” Anthony answers, “From The Tempest.”

“How odd,” (Y/N) muses, “I’ve dressed as Miranda from The Tempest.”

“‘Admired Miranda!/ Indeed the top of admiration, worth/ What’s dearest to the world!’”

“Only you could quote Shakespeare from the heart,” (Y/N) states wryly.

Anthony preens, puffing out his chest slightly. “All the Bridgertons can. We would do dramatizations of the plays.”

“Of course,” (Y/N) laughs, picturing Anthony as a young boy, dressed in breeches with a make-do ruff around his neck. The very image brings a fond smile to her face.

“What are you smiling about?” Anthony questions, wanting to be privy to the thoughts running through her mind.

“You,” She flirts, hooking her arm through Anthony’s as they start to take a turn about the room.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Anthony states pompously though his heart races at her words.

Her laughter chimes as Anthony steers (Y/N) around the room, pausing only to grab two glasses of lemonade from the drinks table. She sips at it delicately, not risking a spill of a single drop on her outfit.

“I’m glad you decided to come,” Anthony murmurs into her ear. “Truly. I would have been lost without you.”

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” (Y/N) teases, enjoying the blush that begins to paint Anthony’s cheeks. She briefly touches a gloved hand to his cheek, smiling fondly at the brunette. “I’m glad I came too.”

Anthony clears his throat; clearing his throat of the emotion clogging it up. He takes her drink from her, placing it on a nearby table. As ever the gentleman he was raised to be, Anthony bows towards the women he vows is the love of his life and offers his hand. “Would you care to dance?”

“Always,” She answers with a breathtaking smile, taking his hand to be led onto the dancefloor for the start of the new song. Couples on the floor take up the position of the quadrille as upbeat music sounds through the hall.  

It’s hard not to smile as Anthony takes her hand to begin the first steps of the lead couple. The first dance figure is performed before copied by the other couples in their square.

Anthony keeps a tight hold on her as he begins the next set of dance figures; spinning (Y/N) out before drawing her back in. Laughter falls from her mouth, setting his heart alight with the love he feels for her.

She catches the eye of Lady Featherington through one of many of Anthony’s spins. The Lady smiles knowingly, raising her glass to the young woman spinning in the arms of the Viscount.

(Y/N)’s breath freezes in her chest; she makes a choked sound and her steps falter. Luckily, no-one but Anthony seems to notice, but he recovers his hold on (Y/N) fairly quickly. It’s the end of the song; couples slowing on the floor, the audience beginning to clap their approvals.

“Darling?” Anthony calls quietly, breaking her out of her reverie. His hand remains in her hold; refusing to let him take even a step without her.

“Take me somewhere we can be alone,” She pleads, suddenly overcome by the sheer amount of people milling about the hall.

Anthony doesn’t need to be told twice, leading (Y/N) away from the dancefloor with a guiding hand on the small of her back. Anthony catches Benedict’s eye as he leaves the hall; his brother offers him a single nod to which Anthony relaxes – Benedict would make sure no-one would follow or interrupt, there was something important Anthony had to do.

The night air is cold against her heated skin as she inhales hurried breaths. The stone of the railing is cool under her fingers as she grips the stone tight; needing something to tether her to this place. It feels like a dream; a total dream that she would find herself costumed as a character from a Shakespeare play brushing elbows with some of the most powerful people in the country.

At this time of night, the gardens are dark, but she can still make out their heavenly fragrance perfuming the air, providing the perfect backdrop for this night.

“Are you alright?” Anthony asks, removing his jacket and settling it over her shoulders.

(Y/N) pulls his jacket tighter around her; inhaling the comforting scent of musk and sweet orange washing over her. “I’m fine now, it got to be a bit too much in there.”

“That’s an understatement,” Anthony murmurs, “I saw Lady Featherington.”

(Y/N) cringes internally. Her face is a mask of polite interest as she murmurs, “Oh? You saw that did you?”

“She only acts as if she knows everything, darling,” Anthony reassures, settling his hands on (Y/N)’s waist, desperate to be touching her.

“I know,” She murmurs, but his words do nothing to settle the panic tying her chest into knots.

“We’re fine,” Anthony promises; hands rubbing up and down the sides of her bodice. “It’s going to be fine.”

“I know,” She repeats, sighing heavily, leaning back into his embrace. His chest is strong against her back, but she doesn’t get long to admire his strength. He turns her in his arms, peering down at the expression on her face.

“You’re who I love. I couldn’t give a damn what the rest of London society thinks.”

“I love you as well,” She answers, a small smile on her face, letting his words wash away any and all of her worries. “You do have a way with words.”

“Flatterer,” He teases, dipping his head to kiss her.

(Y/N) gasps at the first press of Anthony’s lips against hers. She had kissed him before; a hurried meeting of mouths before their chaperone caught up to them. This kiss differed from that; languid, unhurried. Anthony took his time to memorise the feel of her lips against his; the small whimpers sounding at the back of her throat.

Each brush of his lips against hers spoke of what he found it hard to put into words. He had never been a wordsmith; could never write poetry or recite the romances of the past, but with every butterfly kiss placed on her lips in time to the shuddering of her heartbeat could Anthony translate the sheer scale of what he feels for her.

She reaches up to cup the back of his neck, fingers carding through the dark brown locks. Anthony’s grip on her waist remains firm as he presses her further into the railing. The gentleness of Anthony’s kiss soon turns to a burning passion as his hands splay across the small of (Y/N)’s back, pressing her to him.

As Anthony’s kisses begin to travel the expanse of her jawline, (Y/N) is suddenly grateful for the railing behind her. If he was to let her go now, not only would she feel the keen absence of his touch, but she would surely sink to the floor. The feel of his mouth, pressed hot against her, has her knees feeling unsteady.

“(Y/N),” Anthony whispers, nuzzling the side of her neck, “(Y/N)…”

“You keep whispering my name,” She murmurs into the night air; her ragged breath leaving behind white plumes.

“Marry me,” Anthony all but pleads, pulling back from (Y/N)’s neck to gaze into her eyes. “Marry me and always be mine.”

It seemed that time had stopped and lost all of its meaning; there was no party, no gardens, no laughter of lifelong friends. No. In this moment there was only Anthony.

“Yes,” She whispers, laughter beginning to fall from her mouth as fresh as a morning rainfall. Once it starts, she cannot find it in herself to stop. Tears soon join the laughter as a smile breaks across Anthony’s handsome face. “Yes,” She repeats, “I will marry you.”

********

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[aizawaslovebot]

Hello idk if you’ll see this or if you’re still accepting request but I wanted to know if you can do an angst male reader where he’s really close to yachi as friends and plays volleyball with the karasuno boys but like he’s ignored and pushed to the side and no one really notices until he leaves the team and moves to Tokyo only to later join the nekoma team and they actually pay attention to him and he kinda has a run in with his old team latter. Sorry if it’s confusing this is my first ask😅

—shadow on the moon

[nekoma x m! reader | karasuno x m! reader]

synopsis: perhaps they relied too much and gave back too less, and this was karma's sign of ending the cycle.

warnings: angst, self-depreciation, + hmm i feel like it's lackluster because i couldn't imagine karasuno doing something like this

words: 1350

—note: i couldn't write the reunion part? idk why i've rewritten it a few times now but i'm not satisfied ㅠㅠ if you want something changed, please tell me!!

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It was ambitious of you to dream of becoming heard when they couldn’t even spare you one glance. 

You didn’t want to place the blame on the team. It wasn’t their fault that you’ve always been hardly in the limelight. It wasn’t their fault that you’ve always been a wallflower. It wasn’t their fault that you could easily be outshined by anyone in the team. 

It was, however, their fault for their inability to notice your presence no matter how hard you tried.

As a middle blocker in Karasuno, it was appalling how they failed to acknowledge you and your prowess— to the point that you even doubted you had the ability to block for the team at all. Communication has never been easy for an introvert like you, who always depended on the possibility of some extrovert adopting you into their social circle. So despite the overflowing hurt built up on the prospect of being casted to the sidelines, always shoved to the benches as a warmer, you were unable to voice anything out. 

This arrangement continued even through your second year with the team. Heck, it even got worse— with the way Hinata, who, no matter how small, easily got the attention of everyone, and Kageyama, a naturally-born genius with a career ahead of him, you were easily overshadowed by first years of all people. 

Truthfully, you should’ve been in Nekoma High right now. At the end of your first year at Karasuno, your dad was promoted and was given the privilege of an apartment in Tokyo for easier access to his new work. You were very naive to push the move to months later, desperately hoping for at least acknowledgement from the team, that they recognize you as one of their middle blockers. 

It wasn’t the case at all. Were you that replaceable? Were you that insignificant to the team? Were you that unnoticeable? Were you so useless that they won’t even miss you at all? 

Perhaps he could take back that last thought. 

A very kindhearted first year managed to notice you, introvertedness and all. Yachi Hitoka had come to be someone very dear to you, someone who had always been ignored. You were not used to the attention she gave you but you managed to get used to her warmth. The way she’d greet you first out of anyone in the gym or the way she fretted whenever you needed to be bandaged on the rare days you get to play— everything about her was warm. 

And you’d be forever grateful for the kindness, the attention, and the love she had extended for someone as unnoticeable as you. 

Sadly, all the tears can’t be prevented. Even as Yachi rushed to see you one last time before your departure, nothing can’t stop the inevitable partition between a wall-flower like you and the continuously developing crows. You couldn’t help noticing the way only she had come to see you one last time, but you swallowed it all once you remembered you chose not to tell anyone else. 

It’s not like they cared anyway. 

But, there’s no use dwelling on the past. You’re far happier where you are today— with a family who always made it upon themselves to vocalize their recognition for the immense talent you had. 

You had met the members of Nekoma twice: on that one game on the last day of golden week and during the training camp in Tokyo. Sure, you weren’t actually given the chance to play that much but you were beyond amazed at their prowess. No one seemed to outshine anyone in the team and everyone worked harmoniously regardless of their skill level. What you silently wished for, the chance of having a team like that, actually came true. 

The day you joined them was memorable, far more memorable than you’ve ever imagined. 

“Y-You’re K-Karasuno’s middle blocker!” Number 7, Inuoka, you think, gasped when you entered the gym with Coach Nekomata and Coach Naoi.

Taken aback at how you, of all people, were easily recognized, you staggered in embarrassment. You hid behind Coach Naoi which caused the two coaches to snort or laugh because of your actions.

Lev perked up in curiosity, vaguely remembering a middle blocker from the last training camp who, despite the way he stood out from the rest, wasn’t actually a starter. Stumbling like a deer who was recently born into the world, Lev ran up to you with sparkling eyes. However, it was really a scary sight if anyone were in your shoes. 

“Why are you at Nekoma? Why weren’t you a starter? How come I’m taller than you but you’re better? Is there a se—” Yaku, the one who was like Suga-senpai, grinned wryly and dragged the excitable first year away from you after he apologized. 

After hearing the coach’s announcement regarding your transfer, Kuroo smirked. 

“It looks like Karasuno carelessly let someone as talented as you go.”

Judging from the way you flinched, Kenma immediately concluded there was more to it so he kicked the captain’s shin without regard. 

“A-ah… They don’t really notice me at all,” was your quiet reply, which took everyone by surprise. 

“EHH?! Well, we’ll take care of you! Welcome to Nekoma, (L-(L/N)-san!!” Yamamoto cheered, though he faltered when he shyly uttered your name. 

The team was far more accepting, you mused, as you were unable to stop the comparison from your former team. It wasn’t that Karasuno was all high and mighty— they just couldn’t make it feel like you were a part of them and for so long, you figured it was because of how you were behind everyone else. 

Nekoma reminded you that despite that, if that were really the case, you weren’t alone. They like to exaggerate by saying you were really talented, and you were, and it made you feel like you were having progress— like you were part of the family. 

While you slowly began to progress from your past, the flock of crows weren’t doing so well. In fact, they weren’t doing good at all. When Yachi arrived to practice, right after the day you left, no one could deny the drop in her mood. Something was wrong but no one could place it. 

Their ignorance only made Yachi even sadder. 

Their realization came later than anyone ever wanted. No one could deny the decline in their defense. After all, they had always been too complacent— relying on the shadow of which they were sure was there to block in place of others. Perhaps they relied too much and gave back too less, and this was karma’s sign of ending the cycle. The shadow of which they relied on has found its light, leaving everyone else in the dark. 

The quality of Karasuno’s plays slowly declined and it shone through during their practice match with Dateko before they leave for Tokyo. There’s nothing they could do though. After hearing from Kenma that their middle blocker transferred to them— to their fated rival, of all people— the mood amongst the members dropped. They can’t be like the protagonists in coming of age movies where limits are non-existent or main characters who, despite all odds and flaws, get to reunite with their love interest. They know that they’re living in reality and reality has made it a point to tell them how big of a mistake it was to underestimate you, your skills, and your being.

No one would expect, not even Coach Ukai or Coach Takeda, that you had been so hurt all this time. All they could do is wait for the day that the fated rivals battle it off in court, and this time, you stand on the opposite side. 

It was ambitious of you to dream that you would be heard, but not a single soul can stop a dreamer from reaching their goals. It was ambitious to dream that they would finally realize your worth but you succeeded. So as they weep in regret and sorrow over their late revelation, you finally stand proud with the family you always wanted.

—reblogging helps, thank youu!!

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 1 (Rowaelin)

Synopsis: Aelin Galathynius never thought of herself as a vengeful woman. Until her boyfriend not only testifies, but leads a case against her that lands her in prison for the rest of her life. Post I-Love-You's. He didn't believe her, and she's about to show him that not only is she innocent, he made the worst mistake of his life betting against her. To a woman with nothing but time, life's just a game, after all.

The cinderblock wall dug into her back uncomfortably as she reclined against it, the air in the room was stale, and she hadn't showered in two days. By any measurement, Aelin Galathynius was far from her best.

And yet she somehow managed to look perfectly at ease--happy even--as she lounged in her cell, toying with the ends of her too-long hair.

It was a ruse, of course, just a little trick to piss off the man currently stomping into her space. By the flare of Rowan Whitehorn's eyes, it worked.

"Hello, Rowan," she greeted pleasantly, giving him a little smile and acting like it wasn't taking everything in her not to use the makeshift knife under her pillow to gut him like the spineless coward he was.

She could tell, even across her 8x12 cell, that he was gritting his teeth and fighting a similar action.

The heel of his expensive Italian loafers clicked as he walked across the space to the small table and took a seat at the steel chair in front of it. He tried to push it out further, but stopped when he realized it was bolted to the floor.

"Aelin," he said back, none of the so-obvious anger he was feeling present in his voice. "Been a long time."

Eight years, six months, three weeks, two days, and thirteen hours.

Not that she was counting or anything.

She nodded her agreement, reclining further on the bed and crossing her legs as if she was in the finest dress she owned, not a faded orange jumpsuit.

"What brings you to my side of town, Rowan? Here to finally switch sides and represent me?"

Dressed in a two-thousand dollar suit and tie, hair perfectly gelled back, he looked like he was successful a lawyer meeting with a wealthy client, but they both knew the last thing he'd ever do was work for her.

"You know why I'm here."

She did indeed, but she still said, "I must be exceptionally smart to know why you've come all the way here-"

"Cut the shit," he snapped, finally losing a bit of his cool. He regained it quickly, though, and continued, "I want to know how you did it."

She frowned at her split ends. "Did what?"

Rowan waited until she looked at him to respond. "You know what."

Sighing so deeply it should've rattled the walls, she said, "I can't believe I've spent the last eight years thinking you underestimated my intelligence. You clearly think I'm some sort of oracle genius."

Rowan mimicked her sigh, and she bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

Probably trying to stall, he spent a moment looking at her cell, at the completely bare walls and lack of photographs. All she had was the tally marks drawn in pencil on one wall and a dusty chess set sitting on the table.

When he'd taken inventory of those two things, he sat and just looked at her.

It was clear she wouldn't admit to knowing exactly why he sat in front of her, and he was simply putting off being the one to fold.

Predictable, proud little man.

Eventually, he took his loss and said, "I want to know how you managed to rob me from inside the most secure prison in Rifthold."

She smiled, a full, undulated smile she hadn't used in a long time.

She'd been planning this moment since the day the bars had locked behind her, and it felt damn good to finally see it come to fruition.

According to what she'd heard, definitely not what she knew from personal experience, the private vault in Rowan's apartment had been broken into. Apparently, only one thing was missing: an antique dagger that had been handed down in the family and was now worth over a million bucks.

"Why do you think it was me?" she asked, still smiling.

He gritted his teeth some more, and she internally snickered at the idea he'd have permanent tooth damage because of her. Something else to remember her by.

Green eyes spitting flames at her, he growled, "You left a goddamn business card."

Aelin forced her eyes up to the empty bed above her head, trying her hardest not to laugh. "Maybe I'm being framed?"

"Your fingerprints were on it."

She did laugh then, then laughed some more when his eyes narrowed. He looked like he was about to strangle her. "Rowan, in case you haven't noticed, I'm incarcerated."

She gestured around them to her cell to prove her point.

The bastard just smiled.

Of course he knows that, she thought bitterly, forcing her hand back to her lap and away from where it'd started to creep toward the pillow.

"So how would I rob you?" she asked, getting her mind back on track.

"That's what you're going to tell me," he demanded angrily. "I want to know how you got out of here, got all the way across Rifthold, broke into my apartment, and stole from me without any surveillance camera picking it up."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it just right. When she caught sight of the impatience on his face, she fluffed it some more and readjusted the thin jacket on her shoulders.

It was always too damn cold in this place. She hadn't been warm in almost nine years.

Because of him.

Just for that, she fluffed her hair some more.

Then she said simply, "I didn't."

"Stop lying!" he shouted at her, eyes flashing.

She wasn't, but that was besides the point.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes like he'd won. "I got my cousin to-"

"Aedion spent the night in Wendlyn. His travel is verified, and there are at least a hundred eye witnesses that witnessed him singing karaoke all night. Stop. Fucking. Lying."

Once again, she wasn't lying.

Aedion sure as hell hadn't been in Wendlyn last night. She'd just wanted to make sure his alibi was air-tight as planned.

Sighing again, she asked, "Rowan, even if I did do it, why the hell would I tell you about it?"

His jaw worked for a moment, and she could tell whatever he was about to say was difficult for him. "I'll get time off your sentence if you tell me what you've done with it."

She tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it.

It burst out of her, full and uncontrollable, and she flopped over on the dirty mattress and howled for a good few minutes.

He glared at her, looking for all the world like he was experiencing a portion of the rage she was made of, but regardless of the threat in his eyes, she took her time composing herself.

"I'm serving ten consecutive life sentences, you idiot."

One for each and every one of her "victims."

"I'll make it nine," he offered generously.

"Even if I was a cat, that'd still leave me dying in a prison cell. Offer me something else."

He just glared at her, unwilling to give her anything she could actually use or want. Just like she'd expected.

"That's what I thought. So no, Rowan Whitehorn, I'm not accepting your little deal. You can think I robbed you all you want; hell, you can even know, in your famous gut, that I did it." She tilted her head, a cruel smile filling her lips. "But it isn't about what you believe, it's about what you can prove. Isn't that right?"

His eyes shuttered at the words, and just like that, they were sucked into the memory of all those years ago.

~Eight years ago~

~Rowan~

Rowan rolled over, edging away from the woman next to him carefully as to not wake her.

Her hair was spread out on his chest, her soft hand was on his stomach, and her leg was draped over his. By all accounts, she was all over him.

And it felt so fucking good.

He'd never met anyone like Aelin before. Anyone so full of life, so hilariously open.

It was like she was constantly on fire, flitting from one place to the next with endless energy and jabs about him being too old and slow.

"What are you going?" she murmured, nails digging in slightly to keep him where he was.

"To get some water. Go back to sleep."

He leaned down and kissed her brow, and she sighed happily and rolled over. Like a total cliché, he watched her sleep for a moment, trying to get his feelings under control.

They'd been seeing each other for less than a year, but he couldn't imagine his life without her. He was in love with her, and if the way she acted and smiled around him was any indication, she loved him, too.

He ran a thumb over her cheekbone, smiling when she tilted her face into his touch.

He was whipped, and he didn't even care.

Rowan shook his head at himself, pulled on a pair of boxers, padded to the kitchen, and held a glass under the faucet.

Then frowned as it sputtered.

He figured he'd at least make himself useful, knowing damn well she would never agree to call the plumber when she could "figure out how to fix it herself on Youtube."

So he knelt down in her kitchen and opened the cabinet door, trying to see what the problem with the pipe was.

Except he never got that far.

His eyes got stuck on the piece of paper sticking out under a false piece of wood covering the back panel.

Knowing it was wrong to pry but somehow unable to stop himself, he tugged the paper loose.

Then fell backwards to his ass, heart hammering and brain spinning as he read it over and over again.

The list of names wasn't long, but all ten of the people on it were highly distinguished members of society.

And they were all dead.

He wouldn't know that, since the death of the last person on the list wasn't even public record yet, but he was the attorney working with the police to find the killer.

Why did she have this list?

And what did the numbers next to the names mean?

One way or another, he knew he had to find out. He also knew he couldn't ask her. He was in too deep, too unbiased to know whether or not she was lying.

He didn't trust himself with her, so he'd have to go the traditional route.

He took a picture of the paper quickly, tucking it back where he'd found it. He snuck back in the room to get dressed, leaving her a note he had to go to work.

He thought he was going to be sick as he left her apartment, a feeling suspiciously similar to dread coiling in his stomach.

There was only one way she could know that last name, only one explanation that made sense.

But he had to know for sure. Had to know if he'd been an idiot this past year; an idiot who'd spent almost every night sleeping next to the killer he'd been searching for.

So he started investigating his girlfriend.

Six days later, he found the security deposit boxes and the murder weapons inside, still covered in dried blood that would be matched to the victims. All with Aelin's prints on them.

Two days after that, the woman he'd thought was the love of his life was arrested on ten counts of murder.

Despite the tears she shed, despite the promises she made to him, despite the love she claimed to have for him, Rowan told the cops everything.

Even though he couldn't imagine her killing anyone.

"It doesn't matter what I believe, it matters what I can prove."

That was the last thing he'd said to her, right as she was being dragged out of the court room and yelling at him to believe her.

The truth of the matter was that when it came down to it, he didn't trust her enough. The facts were against her, everyone on the jury had been against her, and in the end, Rowan was too.

~Present~

~Aelin~

Rowan shook his head, almost like he needed to clear it from the memory they'd obviously both been immersed in, and she smiled.

She hoped what happened all those years ago still haunted him, hoped he went to sleep at night thinking about her and the betrayal he'd served to her on a silver platter.

The first year of her sentence, she was so lost in emotion--in the rage and confusion and deep, deep hurt--that she couldn't bring herself to do anything.

He hadn't even bothered to ask her first. That's what had hurt the worst.

He'd seen that stupid, stupid list and had jumped to the first conclusion possible.

She knew it had looked bad, had looked like she was guilty, but she'd thought that if the worst happened, he'd at least ask her to explain before slapping the cuffs on her.

But he hadn't. She'd gone to prison, and his career had exploded into stardom from the success of the case.

"See, Rowan, when you refused to accept any other explanation other than the easy one, you made a mistake. Because I didn't kill those people."

He rolled his eyes. "Aelin-"

"And I'm not only going to prove it," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "I'm going to ruin your precious little life while I do it. Just like you did mine."

She stood, put a hand on the steel table, and leaned over him.

"If you want it to stop, all you have to do is drop these bullshit murder charges and issue a public apology for locking me up in the first place."

He stood too, so close his loafers brushed the toe of her dusty, prison issued sneakers.

"That's never going to happen," he promised, voice uncompromising and angry.

Aelin smiled, having predicted his reaction down to the facial expression.

His pride, she'd decided, would be the first thing to go.

She reached around him to slide the pawn on the chess board forward, leaned in even further, and whispered, "Let the game begin, then."

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

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