#stack able jewelry boxes

[mo-aiki]

I now love you, is it too late? (Yandere Fiancé x F. Reader)

Summary: Heartbreak and romance are two sides of the same coin. They both deal with love between another. Your heart is broken but you are trying to move on, but someone is preventing you from doing so.

Notes: I never thought that the previous story would blow up like it did. You can read the first part here.

Warning: alcohol consumption, drugging someone, forced love, obsession, stalking, mentions of violence, I don't condone it, I just write it.

The days after his conversation with you, he should had been elated. For the first time in his life, he wasn't bothered by you and your antics. He could finally get work done without you bother him at every corner to come visit him or play with him. For the first few days, he was able to finish everything for once in his life instead of having a pile to do the next day. But overtime, somehow he was dreadfully bored.

His office felt quiet. Almost too quiet. The only sounds he could make out were the papers shuffling, the clock ticking, and the the voices that came in and out of his office.

Also, overtime he had completed work for the month. He was used to working more the next day and having work stacked up to the point that he needed to catch up, that now he has no idea what to do once he finished work for a month or two.

Alaric thought he could read. He has always enjoyed reading in his free time. But once he got to reading, he felt bored once again. He never realized that the books he read were nothing but boring. The books were full of political theory, history of the most boring topics, and informative information.

His lunches were quiet, his dinners were quiet, and his stomach often rumbled when he forgot to eat.

Life felt repetitive, boring, and dull. He was stuck in a routine of eat, work, and sleep. Nothing ever happened.

When (y/n) was here, she would always drag him somewhere, she had wanted to go to. To go shopping, a picnic, a play, an opera, to watch duals, or to eat. He always felt tired after those things, but at least it brought him excitment.

(y/n) often made sure he would eat flavorful foods and her favorite foods, to the point that he knows everything she likes.

(y/n) often made a ruckus in his home. Always talking, calling servant’s, squealing at her romance novels, and chatting with everyone.

'At least the manor was never deadly quiet whenever she was around...' he thought of as he smirked.

Wait. Why is he thinking about her?

He should be happy that she is no longer bugging him as often as she did.

He saw you outside. He was shopping for new cufflinks. His were "getting out of style" his secretary had told him. Maybe it was just a ploy to get him out of the manor, but he still went out nevertheless. He was in a jewelry shop. Unconsciously, he went to the one you often visited. The man knew who he was anyways, so might as well cut to the chase.

"Ah?! Your Grace!"

The man seemed to be looking for (y/n). "Where is Lady (l/n)? Doesn't she often accompany you?"

He just stood quiet for a moment before his secretary popped in. "His Grace is here to get cufflinks."

The man's eyes brighten. "Ah. Lady (l/n) has already thought of that for you. Please wait here Your Grace."

He brought out a box that he had gotten from a certain part of the store. He opened it, and there were square shaped, dark blue jewels, bordered with small diamonds, the metal gold. It looked like it suited him. Very well. She knew his taste well. She knew what he liked.

"If Your Grace does not like it, you can commission another..." said the man selling him the product.

Alaric shook his head. "No, it's perfect."

He signaled at his secretary to give him a generous check in his name as he left the shop, only to find you, looking at the ocean view from across the shop.

Why did it look like you were looking for something?

More importantly, why did it look like you were looking for someone?

You wore a bright dress, your favorite lace gloves, your prettiest sunhat and carried your favorite parasol.

He was confident that he was the only man who has ever had a very close relationship with you, other than acquaintanceship.

Wait, why was he thinking this?

Why should he care if you saw another man. This is an engagement of convenience anyways. There is no point in scrutinizing every man that either comes or came in your life.

But if you were going to be talking to men after him, they better be better than him. He was not going to be beaten by some half-rate man, who has never held a sword in his life, who has never had to train often to live up to your a standard(s), who has never had to deal with the responsibilities of being a duke from the moment he was born, who has not needed attention from you, and who has never lived up to your ideas of love.

He wasn't going to lose to a man who never even knew you like he did.

But he saw you were being accompanied by a maid after his thoughts had raged through his head. He walked closer towards you. He saw you.

Your eyes had seemed like the eyes that often looked his way when he greeted someone. Not like their lively selfs that he was so used to from you. Your eyes always shone brightly when he was in your presence.

Your smile, one of formality, not your genuine one. You smiled the brightest whenever he was around. Anyone could tell with that smile that you loved him.

You looked like any other person he had interacted with. Formal and in-line with etiquette.

Even your speech was formal. It was no longer bright and cheerful. It was no longer, "Alaric! What are you doing here?", it was now, "Pleased to see you, Duke Caius."

"It's pleasant to see you too, Lady (y/n)." he responded back.

You nodded you head while a wave of silence came through. He didn't talk, you didn't talk, both of you were looking at the distance of this port.

'She is rather quiet. Too quiet..." he thought in his head. Often she was the one who started up a conversation.

"I'm very sorry Duke Caius, but I must leave. I am shopping with a friend, and I wouldn't want them to keep on waiting for me, so, please excuse me."

You started walking off slowly, but then he spoke. "Would you like for me to escort you?"

You turned your head. He thought you would be smiling and agreeing to his suggestion immediately, holding his arm in a loving manner and chatting with him the entire way, like you used to do whenever he had brought out that idea.

But you had shook your head. "No, but thank you for your suggestion, Duke Caius. My guard is nearby here anyways."

You walked off as he could only look at you and your maid walking. He didn't even realize that his secretary had came back, as he only chased after you in the same direction.

He saw from a distance, you holding the arm of some man. A dull man. He was mad at that moment, but his anger wasn't towards you, it was towards the man you were with.

You had became more distant with him. Avoiding him at every moment, like he was the plague. Every time he noticed her, she had seem to always step away from him, with every step she had taken, walking away from him instead of towards him like they used to do.

At parties, you would often avoid him, while his arm was being stuck onto by Lady Thompson.

Social events had you talking to the ladies, sparring no time for him.

Outings with no small talk.

Every little thing you had done to distance yourself from him, almost drove him insane. His head now full of questions for your sudden change in personality. In the span of a few weeks, you had all of the sudden became the most formal person on earth, to the point people started questioning the legitimacy of the relationship.

"It seems like they will break up soon..."

"Are we sure they are engaged? Lady (l/n)'s sudden change in personality must mean something..."

"How sad this relationship had to come to. It feels like they are in a married’s quarrel!"

"I heard that Marquis (l/n) is planning on annulling their engagement..."

"Really?!"

These nobles and their chatty lips. These rumors meant nothing. (y/n) would never let something like an annulment happen to them.

He was bewildered. Shocked. Almost appalled with this letter.

He thought that she had delivered a letter to write to him once again, but this time, this letter was from Marquis (l/n).

Dear Duke Caius,

I regret to have informed you, that I am making a selfish and personal decision to annul this engagement between you and my daughter. I have came to this decision after her reaction and my bewilderment at the Royal Ball from 4 months ago, after you had escorted Lady Alina Thompson instead of my daughter.

I could see the heartbreak in her eyes, and as a father, it is painful to constantly see your daughter in constant heartbreak from the very boy you had known since he was young.

When your late father and I had planned this engagement for the both of you, I knew I would have to give up my precious daughter to a man I could trust, not a little boy who has yet to grown up.

You have yet to proven to me that you could be a man I could trust you with my only child, my daughter.

I wish you well and hope you will continue to collaborate and see the (l/n) house positively and as allies.

Sincerely,

Marquis (l/n)

The letter came with the annulment papers with it. He quickly looked through the papers too see your signature on them and your thumb print.

He stood quiet for a minute, before chuckling. "(y/n)...oh (y/n)..."

He felt like ripping the papers to shreds in the very moment.

You were happy for once in your life. You had met someone special to you. Arthur Johnson.

A stableman who engaged in conversation with you when he was working for your family. He always had a kind demeanor. soft spoken, and was often willing to hear you. Despite your age gap with him (being 10 years), his status as a commoner, and his rugged appearance, you felt like for the first time in your life, you had actually met your prince charming.

He took on dates to the crowded places like small festivals and the farmer markets. Your first present from him being a cheap pendent necklace from him.

His personality was well liked by everyone as he seemed to have a good relationship with everyone.

His voice was deep and attractive, smothering your ears and causing you to blush around him whenever he talked.

He always called you 'princess' or 'my lady' whenever out and about with you, causing you to be flustered at such comments.

He had introduced you to his ailing mother. You never felt so bad for anyone. You had offered to help him, but instead he rejected such offers from you. "My lady, you really don't need to help us..."

"Nonsense Arthur! Your mother is sick and-"

He always shook his head. "I do not want to rely on my lady to always help us. Thank you for the idea though."

Elliot was boring.

Gregory was pretentious.

Adonis was suspicious.

Adrian was paranoid.

But Arthur, was a gentleman.

Until you never heard back from him one day.

He had holed up in his manor until something had happened. He had gotten news of you being spotted on dates with other men.

Afterwards he had a reason to leave the manor from this point onwards. You were with a man after man often times. Talking, chatting, flirting, and being brought around with. He had his secretary look at the backgrounds of those men.

Low-ranking noblemen, and sometimes even commoners.

The perfect people to direct his anger at. After all, what are those families and people associated with them, are going to do against the wrath of Duke Caius and the Caius Duchy.

All of the sudden, these men had been riddled with debt and their families in financial ruins.

A son of a baron, tricked by a scammer he had paid for. He had fell for it, meaning he was too naive and not needed for (y/n), who was just as equally naive.

A son of a viscount, conned and arrested for the possession and the selling of forged art. The real artwork, costing millions, and in his own manor. He "might" had hired an artist to help him with it, paying off their own debt and giving them money. He was too irresponsible that he didn't even check to see if the artwork was genuine. (y/n) would had lived a life of cleaning up after him.

Another son of a baron, swallowed by loan debt after taking out loans to do his playboy schemes. He often bought expensive stuff in order to impress the women he was trying to bed with. Where did he get the loans from? He sure doesn't know, does he? He had troubles with infidelity. He will he constantly cheating on (y/n) if Alaric didn't catch it early enough.

A son of an earl, swallowed in gambling debt by him. He had seen him in the casino houses, and he thought why not taunt him. Plus, he paid off the casino house to always make him win no matter what. He was a gambling addict, spending his days holed up and gambling his money away. (y/n) would be left to die on the streets with nothing if she had been with him.

A stableman, in loan debt as well, after he had offered to help him with his ailing mother. But now his mother dead, and the loans still needed to be paid off. Otherwise, he could just kill him and sell his organs to the black market to get all the money back from him. Guess what option he did. He was poor, and poor men don't deserve her love if they cannot give her what she wanted. Plus, he might just brag often about his now, new lifestyle if she were to be with him.

The stableman was the most annoying in his eyes. His last words before he had slain him were, "Protect her for me, please, for this old bachelor..."

All of these men strengthen his point overtime. That he was the perfect man for her.

He is skeptical and less naive.

He is responsible.

He has never had issues with infidelity that he has known of.

He has never been financially irresponsible with money, nor has he gambled.

He has always had the ability to give her everything she has ever wanted.

He came to the eventual conclusion.

No man could replace him.

You felt trapped.

A rumor had spread around about Duke Caius's wedding day coming up. You thought he was just going to get married to Alina, but instead you and your father were summoned by His Majesty.

He was congratulating you and your soon to be wedding day. "Congratulations Lady (l/n)! You must be a happy bride. And you too Marquis (l/n)!"

You and your father were confused, but still acted like everything was normal, until you brought it up. "Excuse me Your Majesty, but who has told you about this. I thought I had wanted it to be a smaller event..."

His Majesty let out a gleeful laugh. "Duke Caius came to me last week, talking about how now he had decided to plan his wedding. I thought it was a splendid idea! And thus I had given him permission to use the chapel. He seemed elated at the idea, and thus was willing to plan the wedding himself."

Your eyes widen as you nodded. Your head blanking out the entire time. 'Isn't that impossible, unless...'

You went running out of the palace, finding a carriage to use to get to the Ducal Manor. You needed an explanation of what was going on.

Once you got there, you immediately asked the butler where he was, only to see Alaric, looking happy to see you as he came down the stairs to the front of the manor.

"(y/n), my bride! You are just in time for your dress fitting."

He snapped his fingers to have the servants taking you somewhere as he followed, you resisting. "Wha-? No! Alaric, I have to ask about something!"

He smiled in front of you. The previous you would had elated and been happy at his smile. But now it felt uncanny. Like something was off.

"You have finally called my name..."

You gasped as the servants kept on dragging you to your dress fitting. His hand over his heart as he looked like a sad puppy all of the sudden. "Do you know what it feels like to be called one name for my whole entire life with such endearment, only for it to be taken away?"

"No! That's why I'm not here! LET GO OF ME!"

He snapped his fingers as the servants let go of you. He walked towards you, as he placed his hand on your cheek. All you could feel was how cold it was. Like it was ice. You looked directly at him. "I am here to ask, why are we getting married?!"

His puppy face came back, as both of his hands cupped you face. "(y/n), I thought this is what you had wanted..."

Your eyes widen as he looked directly at you. "A big fairy tale wedding, your dream dress, your knight in shining armor sweeping you off your feet, true love's first kiss...isn't this what you had wanted all your life?"

This is what you had always wanted, but not like this. Not while Alaric had this sudden shift in personality and when he felt completely different form the Alaric you had knew.

But also, when your feelings for him had wavered like tides in an ocean. "But I thought the annulment had gone through..." you had said to him.

He chuckled, soon going onto full blown laughter. "(y/n), I know you still want to get married to me. So let's have the wedding of your dreams." he said while placing a kiss on your forehead, something you would had blush at, if everything about this wasn't sketchy.

"But! But!"

"No buts. We are getting married in 9 days anyways. Now, let's go to your dress fitting!"

Everything was too sketchy these past 7 days. Alaric had a sudden change in personality. An extreme one in fact. He all of the sudden became loving.

Following you everywhere.

Bringing you onto his lap while he works.

Having picnics with you.

Having tea with you.

Being your dance partner for practicing.

Locking you in his manor and giving you a splendid guest room while at it.

Coming into your room and reading you to sleep.

Increasing security around you.

Feeding you himself, personally.

Disciplining the male servants if they had touched you.

And the most weird one, not leaving your room, even while you slept.

He had changed, but for what? Now all you felt was creeped out by his sudden shift in behavior. Every single little thing done by him almost felt suffocating. Like he so desperately needed you to either be beside him or to in this manor.

You wanted to see your friends again. You wanted to talk to people again. You wanted to see your father again. You wanted to go shopping again. You wanted to see Arthur again. You wanted to do the things you did. You wanted to leave this suffocating manor for once and do something other than being restrained by him.

So you snooped. When he left, you went around his office. Previously, you had always barged into his office, always running your mouth in a tasteless way. But this time, you had avoided his office, unless he dragged you to it to be with him.

You looked around with something on your mind. "He must have the annulment papers somewhere..."

There was a family portrait of him and his father in his office. A portrait must mean that there's something behind it. Touching the frame, you opened up a secret compartment that was full of bank statements. "Elliot Lancaster, Gregory McClain, Adonis Lovesett, Adrian Hill, Arthur Johnson..."

All the men you had been with. The bank statements had shown how their wallets had gone empty in the span of a week or two.

Elliot and his family had gone bankrupt and sent to an island in the north.

Gregory had been charged with forgery and sentenced to 3 years in prison.

Adonis had been bankrupt and charged with assault against a Marquis for mingling with his wife.

Adrian had been cut off from his family due to his gambling addiction, and has now gone further in debt.

And Arthur. The nice man Arthur. His body was never founded when his mother reported him as missing.

Your eyes widened in horror as you looked at the other pages. He had planned it. From the financial debt to killing Arthur and selling his body parts on the black market. Each paper described the reports of the deeds he had done.

Especially for Arthur. His was the most gruesome one. Chopping him up into bits and selling his innards to the black market while dumping the rest to the ocean on Beckett's Beach, where you took your first date with him.

You couldn't help but squat out of fear immediately. Were you responsible for all of these mens' demise?

Would Elliot and his family still be living in the capital in peace if he never met you?

Would Gregory go back to being his artistic and art loving self if he didn't buy from that one painter you had told him to buy from?

Adonis was already kinda shitty.

Would Adrian change if you had stayed with him?

Would Arthur still be alive if you never noticed him?

You didn't know, and that's when you started crying. Your tears fell down rapidly like waterfalls. The papers, the bank statements, the pieces of news, the reports, all of them now wet with your tears on the paper. You couldn't help but feel for them, especially Arthur.

Arthur was now dead, and his mother soon meeting him.

And it felt like it was all your fault.

"We'll always be together, my lady, this old stableman promises."

Crying alone in Alaric's study, you thought about the moments you had with Arthur. They were all going to be a faded memory of the past. If only you weren't so naive and if only you knew.

"Why is my bride crying?"

Your head turned to see Alaric at the door of his study. You gulped as you got up, dusting your dress while at it. "I-it's nothing, Alaric..." you stuttered, trying to hold back your tears.

He came close towards you as he looked at all the papers on the ground and the portrait, open. He chuckled for a bit. "Did you read these?"

You shook your your head. "I just...found them, that’s all. I swear I didn't read them!"

He looked at the papers, then at you. You could tell he knew that you were lying. He always said you were an open book and how you wore your heart on your sleeve. "Don't bother lying (y/n)."

He pointed to the part on which you had stained with your tears. The paper transparent as he put the papers down on his desk, walking closer to you. Each step growing closer, each step he took feeling like he was mad. Each step felt like an eventual punishment for your actions. "Why were you snooping around in my office, (y/n)?"

You answered with the first thing on your mind. "B-because! I just...w-wanted to l-look around, Y-your Grace..."

"I told you..." He gently pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "Call my Alaric once agin, (y/n)."

His words laced with anger. He was speaking almost like he was threatening you. He looked at the pendent around your neck. Almost like he never noticed it before. Taking the pendent in his fingers, he looked at it obsessively. "Who gave you this necklace, (y/n)?"

You gulped instead of speaking. His hands felt cold when he touched your cheek, looking at you with his angry eyes. "I said, who gave you this necklace, (y/n)?"

"A-Arthur..." you mumbled.

"Who?"

"ARTHUR!" you said even louder before he started laughing hysterically.

"That peasant? Why bother keeping something cheap around your neck. I thought you hated these things?"

You used to, but now this necklace represented Arthur. "I-it's none of your b-business, Alaric!" you yelled out.

"It is my business. Considering you are to be my wife soon, something like this is unacceptable for a Duchess..."

He slowly got closer to your ear. "Especially if it came out that a peasant gave you such a thing...I wonder what would happen to your father...for allowing you to be romantically involved with a man of dirty origins..."

Your eyes widen. "Arthur isn't like that! You don't know him!"

You tried to walk out, only for Alaric to hug you from behind, holding you in a tight grip. You felt like you were losing air by the second once he held onto you. "He's never told you? His mother was apart of a brothel..."

You breath stopped as he whispered more into your ear. "He was the illegitimate son of a noble...people like that deserve to be killed for grasping an ounce of your attention..."

You tried to get out of his grip, but instead he had ripped off the necklace on your neck, letting it fall onto the floor and walking off to his desk, letting you go. You cried as you turned back to look at him. "You-you monster!"

He opened a velvet box with a diamond and sapphire necklace, placing it around your neck, smiling. "My beautiful (y/n)..."

He gripped you arms tight, dragging you to the mirror in the study while putting the necklace together, smiling.

"We will be together forever and this necklace, is to symbolize your new life as Duchess."

You only looked at yourself wearing the necklace as Alaric's hands kept you still.

"You can never leave me now..." he said, as he kissed your cheek.

You in your wedding dress as he went out into the hall.

Walking down the aisle with your father.

The flower petals dancing around you.

The songbirds singing their songs.

And your once dream husband at the alter.

"Do you take Duke Caius's hand, in sickness and in health, in wealth and or none, in forever lasting love?

"...I do..."

The final words of your previous life.

A/N: A part 3 for married life or not?

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[strawberrystepmom]

gojo x f!reader. reader and gojo are married, reader is wearing heels and earrings. a little bitty love note for my valentine. wc 1.3k | divider thanks to cafekitsune 💓

Tuesday nights have long been decreed to be designated date nights in the Gojo household.

Bearing in mind how busy the two of you tend to be, this standing appointment doesn’t always work out the way it was planned when you started the tradition and there have been several occasions where you and Satoru have had “dates” in the form of sharing meals from miles away via video chat but tonight, he is all yours. In the flesh, a day ahead of what is widely viewed as a romantic holiday, and wearing your favorite dress shirt with a smirk across his face.

“So, I’ve been thinkin’.” He announces from across your walk-in closet, fastening the buttons on either side of his wrists and walking in your direction. Raising your eyebrows while you fasten in your favorite pair of earrings, you hum at him, concealing a smile to the best of your ability.

“That can be a dangerous thing.”

Your husband chuckles and joins your side, leaning down to press his face against yours. He steals a glance at your reflections in the small mirror atop your standing jewelry box and puckers his lips, turning his head enough that he can kiss you before suggesting what is on his mind.

“Remember how we used to pretend to get engaged to get free dessert?”

Snorting, you nod, attempting to secure the back of your earring onto the post keeping it in your lobe. Satoru grabs the small piece of metal from you and takes over, leaning down as close as he can to you to get the job done.

“I recall.”

Of course you remember all of the times he pulled a fake ring out of his pocket for attention, applause, and a celebratory slice of cake he didn’t have to purchase despite absolutely being able to afford it. The first time you were mortified, hot cheeked and taken aback by the possibility he may have actually been proposing to you, but each time it became easier to react the way that would make people happiest for you. Keeping the absolute lack of romance in his actual proposal in mind, you’ve always held these fake ones close to your heart.

It feels like he spent years proposing to you culminating in the real thing - how romantic is that? Both of you insist that you aren’t romantics yet the way you love each other speaks for itself.

“Let’s do it again.”

“Oh you’re dastardly,” you tease with a half smile, your palms smoothing out any wrinkles in his dress shirt while fiddling with the buttons keeping it closed. “You really want to?”

“Duh, it’ll be fun.”

Despite yourself, you laugh at your husband’s antics and remove your palms from his chest to slip your ring off. Your lower lip dips out in a pout with each inch the golden band moves and Satoru’s heart squeezes in his chest watching it. Maybe he shouldn’t have suggested such a silly stunt, no matter the laughs that would be shared over it later.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Nodding, you grab his hand and face his palm upward, depositing your band in the smooth center of it, followed by the engagement ring you wear stacked with it. Your left finger is bare for the first time in years and you wiggle it with a giggle, shoving it upward in the direction of his face.

“For old times sake.”

It’s a very good thing the two of you picked a restaurant that deviates from your usual plans otherwise this entire little plot would fail spectacularly. Tadashi, the chef at your favorite place close to your home, would have spotted the two of you in a second and given you a wry smile and tutted at your dishonesty.

“Are you sure this is gonna work? We seem pretty, I dunno…married?” You question everything happening right now, unexpectedly feeling a little insecure about lying. The click of your heels on the sidewalk perfectly mingles with Satoru’s footsteps that he intentionally shortens when the two of you are together. There are so many subtleties that will give you away including the mere fact you are obsessively in love with each other and fail to hide it.

Your husband simply chuckles and shakes his head.

“Hopefully they’re giving out the good desserts tonight,” your husband mutters while weaving his fingers in between yours and swinging your joined hands between your bodies. He’s so effortlessly boyish sometimes you want to be annoyed but find it difficult to be when the stars are twinkling just right and the cool air nipping at his cheeks makes them a rosy pink.

If you loved him less, you’d be more frustrated. Adoration is a balm that soothes most of your frustration with him at any given time so you’re happily preparing to go along with all of this, smiling at the hostess standing at the front of the restaurant when you enter.

“Two for Gojo,” he proudly states to the woman who whisks the two of you off toward your reserved table. You smile at her the entire time but you notice her smile dim after she catches sight of your joined hands. With a nod, she moves so you can slide into your chair and he does the same and you hum to yourself.

“That was weird, right?”

Satoru just shrugs and you roll your eyes, picking up the menu and scanning over it once. Your waiter arrives with a polite half bow and immediately, your husband’s face lights up. It’s too late to tell him to stop whatever he’s planning now, his right hand dipping under the table to fish around in his pocket for your engagement ring.

“Are we celebrating anything tonight?”

The server’s words immediately make you panic and your eyes widen when Satoru pushes his chair out and stands, presenting a very familiar ring in his palm. Taking a deep breath, you gasp and do your best to feign shock and surprise, noticing the same horrified look on the server’s face when he glances at Gojo’s hands.

“Yes, we are. We are getting married!”

Glancing at his left hand, you immediately notice what the shock is about. Rather than fuss at him you rush to cover your mouth with your right hand and nod rapidly as though you are totally taken aback. Holding your left hand out, he slips your ring back onto its home finger. He beams at you with every movement, practically bursting with joy, and seats him back at the table across from you.

“You forgot to take your ring off,” you whisper-hiss out of the side of your mouth and your husband looks down at his left hand that grips the edge of the dinner table. Sure as anything, the golden band you slipped on the digit years ago glistens under the low restaurant lighting and you fight the urge to giggle and blow the entire operation wide open. The clearly uncomfortable server bows his head at each of you, filling your empty water glasses for the sake of having something to do, before scurrying away with his head pointed firmly toward the ground.

“He probably thinks I’m your mistress now.”

Satoru shrugs in response, tilting his head to the side.

“You are my wife, my mistress, and the love of my life, what can I say? The plan worked perfectly if he believed it.”

Rolling your eyes, you reach across the table and run your thumb over his fingers and the gold band adorning his ring finger.

“You’re such a romantic.”

He smirks and wraps your hand in his.

“But I’m your romantic.”

The two of you are so lost in your own little world you don’t realize the server and hostess off to the side discussing the married man proposing to another woman, gesturing wildly at each other. Fake proposal aside, you are excited to have an evening to enjoy with the man who shakes your world up at every opportunity and he glances at the menu for a scant moment before turning to look up at you, blue eyes narrowed.

“Do you think they’ll still give us dessert?”

Laughing, you shrug and squeeze his hand.

“I think we should probably plan on just buying one this time.”

[softboo]

love me, ever so gently

pairing: austin butler x reader

summary: you recently moved to a new apartment, making new some eccentric friends along the way. but what you didn't expect was falling in love with a stranger. a stranger you somehow couldn't stop thinking about

words: 2.1k

warnings: depictions of domestic abuse, dark themes of relationships

author's note: i made this on an extremely impulsive whim and i have never been so terrified of posting this. my anxiety of trying to make this story went from writing this for three days straight to now suddenly having multiple parts. i'm literally almost done with part III so we'll see how far this goes. hopefully you like my very first fic... i haven't written in years... ehh... and thank you in advance for reading this :3

next part

part I

"you're either incredibly talented or horribly lousy."

george stated right before you tore down the stack of books from the pile. you groaned in frustration, ignoring that thing buried right under the surface of your heart. if bookstores and libraries could make something aesthetically pleasing, then so could you. just like you were able to do a year ago.

you huffed once more before starting the process over again.

george took your silence as a precautionary warning, tentatively placing a small cup of coffee next to you, hoping maybe a little space and some caffeine couldn't hurt your pride more than he did.

"as long as you don't make a mess, it makes my job a thousand times easier," he offered you a toothy, yet slightly lopsided grin before leaving you to your uncomplicated complicated endeavors.

george circled around the remaining tables that were also still being set up for the fair at the community center. you were a regular volunteer for these events, moreso because your neighbors invited you to them in the first place. one of your neighbors being george, who hobbled right back to where you were, smiling proudly at his empty tray.

"well, my services are done."

he flashed another innocent grin before leaving you be, "make sure you get that done before cass sees you!"

"george I'm going to throw this empty tray at you."

he let out a belly laugh, even though he was as thick as a twig. he pulled you over to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"there she is!"

you rolled your eyes at him, but couldn't help a smile. you still remember when you met him for the first time.

~ ~

your first week at the new apartment building was stressful enough, splitting your belongings in each individualized box and suitcase. and somehow through all that stress, someone as joyous as george just so happened to crash right into you with all of his groceries.

and he had this distinct smell, something between a book you haven't opened in years and an old worn out knitted sweater. at the time, he greeted you like you've been friends for years, something you deeply missed when you moved away from your hometown. from everyone.

"welcome to the neighborhood!!" he screamed in your ear, forgetting his hearing aids before he left for the store. you let out a polite, yet awkward, kind of laugh, thanking him for his very enthusiastic greeting. it's funny to look back on it now, a stranger you would've never imagined becoming friends with. including everyone else you met along the way.

~ ~

evelyn and cassandra peered from the hallway behind you, coming from the kitchen. cassandra with her big box of jewelry for her stand, while evelyn followed suit.

"did george call me cass again? i hate when he calls me cass. it sounds like ass."

"because you are an ass."

cassandra shot him a quick glaring look before he started laughing again, placing her boxes down. she pointed a shaky finger at him.

"you know one of these days, i really hope i end up dying before you. i can't stand that laugh of yours." she grumbled, which made you laugh.

"can't keep a happy man down cass. you're stuck with me forever," he bellowed, leaving a messy kiss on her cheek before she swatted him away. george dramatically saluted them before hobbling away again, wanting to mingle and socialize before the fair officially opens.

cassandra gathered her things once more as she eyed your table with a sense of pride.

"you never cease to amazing me sweetie. i always love how you decorate your books."

her words swelled in your heart and that thing that was buried right under the surface dissipated, only just for a moment. and you were completely and utterly okay with that.

"thanks cassie..." your voice drifting ever so softly. like she was going to catch it in the end like she always does.

~ ~

when you met cassandra last year, you heard her voice before you saw her. you were seated at the lobby of your apartment building, waiting for a blind date that never picked you up. it was about two hours before you decided to call it and when you looked up, you saw her.

she was a bright eyed woman, her grey hair tossed behind a small pink scarf, something you've only seen worn a few times or rather only in movies. she looked at you with a look of concern. you weren't crying of course, why waste tears on some stranger right?

but you got your hopes up immensely high and someone as experienced in her years as she was, she could tell a disappointed look when she saw one.

"oh my dear, what's the matter? are you hurt?"

you shook your head no, having no energy to formally respond with a voice.

"come here love, let's bring you back home. do you live here?"

you nodded.

she waddled her way towards you, keeping you close to her. she was a tiny woman, hunched over slightly as she led you to the elevator. once you were both inside, she asked what floor you were on and pressed the appropriate button for you. her floor being the one below yours.

"sorry we have to stop at mine first..." she began and you shook her head to stop her.

"don't be. it's okay... i was heading up anyway." you finally had strength to talk again, "i should be saying sorry for keeping you from getting home."

she scoffed at your response, displaying one of the warmest smiles you've ever seen.

"sweetie, you're doing me a favor."

the elevator dinged and opened to her floor, the woman turning to walk out.

"i am?" you asked her and she nodded, standing outside the elevator doors.

"yes. because no man deserves to make someone as lovely as you this sad."

your face went from feeling defeated to utter confusion as the woman smiled again. this time knowing exactly what you were going to ask.

"i know disappointment when i see it."

and just like that, the elevator door closed.

~ ~

"how are you feeling otherwise?" cassandra asked you, momentarily glancing over at your beautiful table.

"better. only sometimes," you responded, a lump suddenly appearing in your throat. feeling as if you were half lying somewhere.

"that's okay. just remember that someone who's broken you then doesn't deserve to break you now," she gently held your cheek, looking at you as if for the first time again.

"and besides, who knows who you'll might meet today."

~ ~

cassandra's words rung in your ears, weighing heavy on a hopelessly romantic heart. being alone was easy and you weren't lying if you admitted that to anyone because it was true. that was one of the perks of moving here, along with meeting all of your new friends.

but being lonely... that was difficult. especially when the fall season would blend into the holidays. one night after the other. because everyone seemed to find their someone by the times gifts were supposed to be given. which is why you wanted to put everything into the community fair this year.

and because heartbreak anniversaries were apparently a thing on your calendar.

you glanced over at your table, the last few books lingered for awhile. some people glancing over at them, while others would pick it up just to place it back down again. you didn't really know why seeing a book not being chosen hurt a small part of you. but it did.

or maybe you knew but didn't want to face it.

soon enough, you noticed someone hovering near the entrance, like he was contemplating whether or not to let his curiousity get the best of him. it may have been a little more than an hour or so when he actually approached your table.

you quickly stood up in response, as you noticed him eyeing a few of the older books. his hands lingered on each cover, not saying a word. his hair was blonde, wavy and messy, like he'd just woken up. the rest of him was covered by a black mask.

you did notice the way his hands moved though, hesitating to pick something. shaking a bit, a shadow crossed your peripheral and you could've sworn you saw a bruise somewhere on his knuckles.

"do you need help finding anything?" your voice coming out a lot softer than you had hoped. he looked up and you felt this entire weight lift off of you. like something encapsulating you just shattered into a million pieces and suddenly you could breathe again.

his eyes were so blue, like you were swimming in this endless ocean full of life and somehow you couldn't tell the difference between the stillness of the water or the blueness of the sky.

you could see a slight smiling forming on his face before he shook his head no.

"oh well if you want anything... i really recommend any of the classics."

his eyes glimmered a bit, letting his hand linger on one of the few books he was eyeing before.

"how much is it?" his deep tone caught you by surprise as you hesitated to respond. your own voice catching in your throat.

"oh um... everything is free."

"really?"

and just like that, you noticed something switch in him, a sense of curiosity filling those calm waters.

"which ones have you read so far?"

you didn't realize it, but your eyes lit up at the question. and he noticed. a small smile forming on his face.

"oh this one is my favorite... i haven't finished it, but it was really good from where i left off," you pointed at pride and prejudice.

you smiled at him, like your excitement was taking over and he could tell how much you loved talking about books. his gaze never wavering as you spoke about the stories that overwhelmed you and the others that never lasted a few pages before you decided to stop. he listened with such intent, such intrigue, it made you feel like you were someone he had known for years.

his aura was beautiful and a part of you wished that something would lead to something which would lead to something else. you didn't even feel anything in that regard, not yet anyway, but that same part. it was pulling... gently. ever so gently tugging at your heart.

"thank you for all of your recommendations," he began, holding on to ever single book you spoke about. you were about to protest that he didn't have to, but he was adament on keeping every single one.

"are you sure you want to get all of them?" your voice wavering on worry, but all he did was smile at you, letting out a soft laugh.

"i'm sure."

his voice was so reassuring, you almost forgot to offer him a bag. there was a slight pause before you realized, eyes widened in embarrassment.

you quickly apologized to him, running to the back to get a bag. you left the table feeling this overwhelming warmness flow through you as you noticed your heart beating against your chest. you tried to hide the excitement, but your heart was already getting your hopes too high.

but when you came back, your heart instantly dropped right into your stomach. a woman was now standing next to him, but something was different in his eyes. the oceans were no longer waves crashing against the seashore. they were climbing under thunderstorms. drowning in its own current.

her hair was dark red in color, flowing to accentuate the curves of her body. she was unbelievably gorgeous and your heart sank even more. but there was something about her that you couldn't figure out.

"here's your bag, i didn't mean to—"

"why your table is absolutely gorgeous, isn't it austin?"

he didn't glance at you or her or anyone. all he did was nod. you noticed the grip she had on his arm. it was tight. suffocating.

you offered the bag to them, but she shooed your hand away, like you were merely just a bug.

"no need sweetie, we were just on our way out. he was just looking anyway."

you tried your best to keep your composure, but you were fuming on the inside. only cassandra could call you that and at least when she did, it was endearing. not spiteful.

she flashed you the biggest smile that fueled your fire even more as she pulled austin away. you noticed him stiffen when they left the table. he couldn't even look at you.

and he couldn't even say goodbye.

[thatgirlstrawberry]

The Shoebox Under The Bed

Feb. Request-8

In which Spencer has a box of all of the things Y/N had ever given him and she finds it

Warnings: fluff, kissing, cursing, he gets a lil embarrassed

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

“Babe, do you know where my white heels are?” Y/N asked, walking through her and Spencer’s apartment wearing nothing but one of his shirts and a pair of socks.

It was Valentine’s Day and they had dinner plans. “Uh… check the bedroom closet?” He called from the kitchen.

Y/N hummed and she walked into the kitchen. “Are you excited?” She asked, standing on her tippy toes and kissing his neck innocently.

Spencer smiled and leaned down to kiss her. “So excited.” He nodded.

Y/N damn near squealed. “This is our first Valentine’s together since we moved in with each other!” She said, poking his chest.

“Baby, I love that you’re so excited but it’s 9 am. We don’t have dinner until 7 tonight.” He chuckled.

Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile. “I knoooooow….” She drew out. “I just wanna be ready. Last year I left my place super late and we almost lost our reservation.”

Spencer shook his head. “Okay, babe. Whatever makes you feel better.”

Y/N squeaked and tore away from him, going to look for her shoes.

In the room, she had searched high and low for those heels but hadn’t even found one.

She sighed and spun around, collapsing on the bed. She shut her eyes, groaning loudly.

After a moment, her left eye peeked open when she got an idea. She got off of the bed and got on her hands and knees next to it. She bit her lip and lifted her arm up to feel around for her phone on her bedside table.

She hummed in victory when she grabbed it and brought it down, turning the flash light feature on.

Underneath the bed lit up and she smiled. She moved clothes and blankets out of the way before her eyes lit up. The black shoebox sat there with a picture of the particular heel she was looking for.

She grabbed it and pulled it out from underneath the bed, opening the box quickly. She was expecting a shoe or two but instead she found a stack of Polaroids, letters, jewelry and a bunch of other tiny gadgets.

She bit her lip when she pulled one of the Polaroids out and studied it. She had been obsessed with taking pictures of things with her camera. In this one, Spencer was holding a lemon and wearing a big wicker sun hat. Why? She couldn’t remember but she smiled and laughed anyway. She remembered she gave it to him on the last day of 7th grade.

Spencer and Y/N grew up together. They realized that they were in love at a very young age.

She looked behind her to make sure that Spencer wasn’t watching from the kitchen and then pulled out one of the letters.

She smiled as she saw the little star she’d drawn by her name.

May 23

Dear Spence,

It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. I still have that sweater you leant me last winter. I wear it all the time. I wish the summer would be over so I can see you again. The last letter you sent me, you said you would come back soon but July 17th isn’t soon enough.

Anyway, how’s your Einstein summer camp going? I read that they teach you how to read minds there. Is it true? If so, can you tell me what I’m thinking about now?

I also got cast as Wendy in our schools summer theater program in Peter Pan. If you make it back home in time you might be able to catch closing night. I hope you can. I would love to look out when we’re doing our bows and see you there.

Anyway, I gotta go. We’re running lines.

See you at my show!

Love

From Y/N <3

She rolled her eyes, wondering why she’d scratched the end out even though Spencer could clearly read it. She tossed the letter aside and bit her lip, digging through the box some more.

Her eyes lit up when she picked up a stupid charm bracelet she’d made for him in fifth grade. It had a pair of glasses next to a star and a bead that had an ‘S’ in the middle.

Her tongue pressed into the inside of her bottom lip as she tied off the end of the elastic string. She glanced behind her seeing Spencer reading a book.

Her heart pounded as she turned and walked towards him. “Uhm… Spencer?” She cleared her throat. He looked up at her, pushing up his glasses.

“I-oh hi, Y/N!” He smiled setting his book down.

She held out the bracelet to him, closing her eyes. “I made this for you.” She spoke quickly.

He took it from her gently and her eyes opened. “Thanks! This is really nice.” He nodded at her.

Y/N smiled to herself, peeking behind her again just to make sure Spencer was still occupied in the kitchen.

The next thing she pulled out was a sock.

Yes, a sock.

Spencer in exchange for a book he was reading asked for something that Y/N held near and dear to her heart. She gave him a sock with Stitch from Lilo and Stitch. She almost cried giving it to him and he almost caved and let her keep it AND the book but she told him that it was fine.

She never gave the book back, he never returned her sock.

She put the sock back in the box and kept digging finding a really dried up daisy flower and a wrapper to a Crunch bar amongst many many other things. She paused when she felt something different.

It was a small velvet box. She pulled it out slowly, biting her lip. “What the fuck?” She whispered. She swallowed, opening the box and almost gasped.

A ring and a receipt sat inside that box. The ring was beautiful. It had a rose gold band with a rose colored diamond—a big ass diamond. She read the receipt, not paying attention to the price but the date.

He had bought that ring ten years before. They hadn’t even been dating then.

Her mouth was agape, she was so in shock that she didn’t even hear Spencer coming.

“Babe did you find your sh— oh my fucking shit.” He groaned. Y/N looked up at him slowly.

“Oh my God, Spencer, I’m so sorry!” She said, shutting the box quickly and shoving back underneath the piles of letters and other stuff. “I was just looking for my shoes, I swear!”

Spencer chuckled and sighed, walking over to sit on the bed in front of her. She bit her lip smiling at him, completely disregarding the ring. “You kept all the stuff I gave you.” She said quietly.

He reached down to cup her cheek. “Of course I did.”

She shut her eyes. “And you bought a ring.” She shook her head, her face heating up. “You bought a ring 10 years ago— we were 15 Spencer!” She smiled.

He blushed. “Well… I just— i knew that it was you, Y/N/N. Ever since you made me that charm bracelet in 5th grade.” He shrugged. “So, I saved up all my money from working at the ice cream shack that one summer and I went and bought it.”

Y/N stared into his eyes with a soft smile on her lips. “I love you.” She whispered.

Spencer smiled and leaned forward to kiss her deeply. “I love you.” He said in between kisses. “But you’re gonna have to wait for me to propose because that was the plan for tonight.” He chuckled.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “Fine.”

So at the end of the night, Spencer proposed to her in front of a bunch of people at the restaurant. She acted like she had no idea it was gonna happen so they’d get free cake.

[solitude4chiron]

“Fashion Killa”

Earth 42 Miles x black fem reader

May or may not be a Pt.2 🫣

About ig?: Little bit (maybe more than a little) of Angst and fluff, smoking, kissing but nothing further than that, music, nostalgia, slight songfic using the song “Fashion Killa“ by A$AP Rocky because music is my personality andddd I think that’s all?????

Alr so first post, and first time writing abt any character… I gave up taking Spanish so pls spare me a little 🙏🏾 and if you do write and see anything you could give constructive criticism on it would be deeply appreciated, anywaysss

The message pinged through your phone disrupting your daydreaming session after a boiling hot shower, you still lay on the bed clutching the top of your towel in case someone barged in. Knowing you’ve lived alone for a few weeks after your boyfriend cut off all communication with you, with the world, but we never officially broke up. So I assume he’s still mine and I’m still his.

“Voy para allá ahora, ma, algo emocionante viene hacia ti. -Amor M” (I’m coming over now ma, something exciting coming your way. -Love M)

Your feet sprang up with the excitement of being able to see miles, the negative feeling your heart stored for weeks crumbled and dropped on the floor. Disappearing from hearing from him. You brush past your anger and focus on the positive, like always.

You and miles had been dating for a year now and it was the longest heart wrenching year of your life, within him being the prowler, living in a city with no hero to protect it and most of all. Breaking open his nonchalant attitude caused by Grief. It had been a lot for you both, but still holding on was the best thing you could do for your heart. Hoping through everything his love for you would never waver.

And within that thought a knock came from the door, you squeezed past the groceries still on the floor after you brung them in a few hours ago to unlock the door for miles, you would hope through all this time was still yours.

“Hi Y/N missed you baby”

And you stared at your lover, cuts sharpening his already hardened face. Hair knotted and neglected, you would assume from being on the run, and clothes slightly ripped. Even though you could still tell he was putting on his best for you. A crate of your favorite things filled one of his arms as you peered inside, 2 vinyls. Long Live A$AP and Nostalgia Ultra, a bouquet of tiger lily’s. Tiny jewelry boxes stacked on one another and some other trinkets and candy’s you would sprawl out on your bed and Indulge in with miles. 

You couldn’t say nor do anything. After Miles’s disappearing act a few weeks ago, seeing him and you within feet of each other made your heart ache to converse with him about every thought that was polluting your mind for weeks.

“I missed you miles, everything about you. Your smile and voice rolling r’s in every word, your music filling my halls in the morning, the smoke on your breath after a long stressful day, braiding your hair. I missed us. Where were you baby? Why did you run?” While choking back tears you kept your head down avoiding eye contact. It shielded you from shedding any more tears while being vulnerable.

“Los siento Amor, (I’m sorry love) I know. I got caught up in some deep shit. I know it hurts you who I am. Deep down I can tell you wish I wasn’t runnin the streets. Yo también ma. (I do too ma)” He said in a disappointed manner because he was disappointed in himself. For almost losing the love of his life.

Realizing y’all were still talking in the doorframe of your apartment. You grabbed and pulled him by his free hand to our room where he put the decorated crate on your sketch filled desk before flopping on our bed and laying his head in your crossed legs. Prompting you to take out his old braids while looking through the box.

“Miles how did you find these? I thought they were discontinued?” You said. Slightly shocked at how well he knew you. Or maybe how well he remembered you

“I have my ways, but I’m hopeful that you still realize I love you, even with the time we weren’t communicating. Lo seinto mami” (I’m sorry Mami) he stated so low it felt like an intimate whisper as he tilted his head back in my lap to lock eyes with me

And that sentence made your stomach coil, because you knew what he did. How it provided for you and his family, and in some piece of your heart deep down you wanted to be mad, so mad, but his guard was down. So you anticipated your words before saying them. Trying not to ruin the moment of vulnerability

“Cuidado, (careful) you trying to hurt me?” He said jokingly and you adjusted your hands while playing in his coils forgetting he was slightly tender headed 

“Miles baby, I love you so so much, but when you’re in these situations you need to tell me something. Anything, I’m not as strong as you, Lord knows that. You know that. Just communicate with me baby. Please.” 

And as if he could feel the tears forming in your eyes he got up from his spot, cupped your face within his rough hands and pressed kisses on your forehead and lips.

“I’m sorry y/n, I promise. Don’t cry over me. Open your gifts babe, everything I do is for you.”

And as time passed you opened boxes of rings with both of your initials engraved in them. Bags of candy that melted in your mouth (you made sure to share with miles popping them into his mouth from above him) old and newly released clothes because fashion is your favorite thing in the world, and little childhood toys you always wanted but expressed you couldn’t afford as a child

You get up to play y’all favorite album and hear miles groan a bit from the sudden movement. You spin the records he got you, listening to the music while talking and taking out his braids. Combing out the old dirt and gel buildup at his roots so it was easier for you to wash later

And somehow your on the last box, after hours of opening gifts and wrappers littering your floor (you knew that gift giving was Miles’s love language so it wasn’t surprising) he asks for you to close your eyes and allow him to open it for you. Coldness draped over your neck while Miles’s breath from behind raised your senses. As fashion killa played from our record player you felt love admitting from him while behind you.

As the song played you remembered the nights you and him would smoke together in our room, window open, moonlight shining through allowing his brown skin to look blue. Lips pressed to each other, tongues exploring each others mouths through each exhale of smoke. Tumbling through our small Brooklyn apartment kissing and touching on each other, backs pressed to each wall in the house. He would call you his fashion killa and sing the lyrics about how he adored your Dior knowing proudly he bought it for you.

“You can open your eyes now Y/N”

And in the mirror you stared in awe at a one and only piece wrapped around your neck. A crystal drop orb pendant necklace. Vivienne Westwood a piece of fashion you’d studied for years since you were a little black girl, feeling a sense you would never have it draped across your neck dripping drown your collar bone.

Until now 

So you pulled him in, and wrapped your arm around his neck using your free hand to play in his freshly detangled hair. Standing on the tip of your toes to reach his cocoa butter covered lips that were now glossy from your clear lip gloss.

“you look cute with my lipgloss on pretty boy” you teased as he rolled his eyes

“shii if you like it I love it ma” and the statement warmed your stomach

Through slight groans from miles and intimate whispers you both expressed your longing for each other very well. One of his hands traced your curvy frame as his other was occupied on holding you up against the wall whilst your legs wrapped around his waist.

“I want you at my level Y/N, not at the tip of your toes. Right in front of my face.”

“You kno you fine huh?” You muttered between sharp breaths

“Definitely do.”  He replied almost instantly kissing your collar bones while your eyes lowered in pleasure

do y’all fw this?

[iquestionlife]

”A gift?”

Thank you @annaarcana for your request! I hope i did it justice <3

Castin x Baroness

Genre: Fluff

~Summary: Just Castin being the standard and giving the Baroness her a birthday gift~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sounds of various things rung in her ear, the winds blowing, the sound of various types of footsteps of people she knew walking around their manor. Some imperial maids, some Intacian maids, as well as guards patrolling and sometimes chatting with each other filled her ears. A clock could be seen hung on the wall making it’s usual -and rather tedious- sounds , often merging with the sound of paper rustling.

The baroness was inside her office working on her papers and, next to her neatly stack of papers was tea and some pastries.

Despite the rather calm and productive atmosphere she felt a sense of unease pool at the bottom pits of her stomach.

Where was Castin?

.

.

.

Yep, his plan was royally screwed. Frankly, Castin had some level of confidence to be able to pull this whole birthday thing off ,but now he was somewhat doubting himself.

Asking some of the Imperial maids had gotten him nowhere. Nothing. They either gave him polite shrugs or suggested he ask Lilia.

Turns out, he also wasn’t any help. Though Lilia did suggest getting her something that was meaningful.

But what?

Castin knew damn well, that she was not one to celebrate such ‘menial’ and ‘unimportant’ days. God, he could hear her voice in his head already.

He had done anything and her birthday was literally tomorrow. He even asked Reyes…much to his mild irritation. Yet, even Reyes didn’t have an answer.

Walking around the town, his eyes searched around for anything that could be worthy. Something meaningful. Something she’d appreciate. Something she’d like.

A necklace with a locket in the shape of a book caught his eye. It was silver and clearly handmade ,but of good quality.

Finally, he had his idea.

.

.

.

“Castin what did you do this time—“

“Come on babe, have some faith in me,” He grinned from ear to ear. Honestly, it would be endearing had he not dragged her from working. Furthermore, yesterday he’d been out the entire day with a simple ‘ oh, yeah im going out for a bit! Love you!’ .

“Pleaseee? Just close your eyes if you love me.” He asked one more time, to which the baroness just sighed and obliged much to her disgruntled disagreement.

The sound of shuffling and moving around filled her ears. Then paper, then..some sort of metal on wood? The weight on the bed shifted, she could feel him sit next to her cuddling into her side to which she relaxed next to him sighing despite still having her eyes closed.

“Alright open up your pretty little eyes”

And sure enough once she did, she saw a gift box, small but neatly wrapped in a mix of white and silver box. Eyes widened, and she glanced right at Castin who was back-hugging her his face nestled right on her shoulder ,his smile absolutely infuriatingly handsome.

“Happy birthday~”

“…Castin this is…you did not—“

“Ah-Ah-Ah-. Shhhh. No. Nada. No. I did. Today is your birthday. The day you were born. To you, it’s another day ,but to me had you not been born i would not have married my smart, gorgeous, sexy wife. So, no complaining.”

She looked at him ,uncharacteristically a bit flustered, her ears pink. Reluctantly, her once tense shoulders slumped against him and she stared at the box unsure. She reached out for it carefully, holding it gently. As if it were the most precious thing she’d ever received. Castin squeezed her ,as if silently encouraging her with a large grin on his face that it was okay and she could take her time.

Unwrapping the gift carefully, she pushed the wrapping paper aside and was met with a rather elegant small box that felt…like it had a lot of love put into it. Nothing like her jewelry collection and yet…somehow she felt like it was a comforting embrace and Castin was just adding to that with his cuddling. Does he not know the effect he has on her? Certainly not.

Opening the box, there laid a necklace with a locket in the shape of a book, then Castin’s hand covered her’s. He guided her hand to the locket and opened it.

A literal book. It was a literal miniature flip book with pictures of them drawn in a way to show them dancing.

Cradling the necklace in her hand she turned her head to Castin and kissed him before whispering a small yet grateful and vulnerable.

“Thank you…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you once again for the request! I hope this was to your liking! <3

[bey0nd-1he-stars]

3rd Advent - Christmas shopping for the crows

Masterlists

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader

Word count: 1011

Warnings: Mentioning of weapons

Summary: You go Christmas shopping for the crows with Kaz and then enjoy an afternoon at the slat.

“Which one do you think Inej would like more?” You pointed at two different beautifully crafted daggers. They were delicate and elegant, and both of them had carved handles, but one of them had roses carved into the blade. Kaz took a look at the daggers before pointing swiftly to the second one and you smiled as you handed the money to the woman selling them. She carefully wrapped it up in some paper before handing it to you, bidding you goodbye and wishing you a wonderful holiday.

Ketterdam was in a strangely good mood now when christmas was coming and you had been pulled into the christmas spirit as well. You’d even convinced Kaz to let you buy presents for the crows, as long as you didn’t buy anything for him. You planned on doing that anyway.

Kaz mumbled something about checking out the stand that was selling bottles of chemicals and stuff to see if he could find whatever Wylan had asked you two to get while you were out. You just nodded and decided quietly that this was your chance to find something for Kaz. As he stalked away you turned around to see that the different stands were selling and you found one that was selling beautifully handcrafted jewelry. You approached the man with a smile.

“Hello there! You don’t happen to make custom pieces, do you?” you kindly asked and the man nodded at you in return.

“Indeed I do. For the right price, that is.” You nodded understandingly and pulled out a stack of kruge.

“This is 500, will that be enough to make me a pendant?” you spoke quietly in case Kaz came back earlier than you’d expected. The man shrugged, “it depends on the design.”

“I want something discreet. A backwards ‘K’ and an ‘R’ that is put together,” you tried to explain and the man pulled out a pen and paper and began sketching something to get a hum on the design. You nodded in appreciation when he showed you the finished design after the two of you had gone back and forth a bit. He put away the sketch and you noticed how he didn’t need to touch the metal box he put them in to close the lid. You carefully leaned forward and spoke up quietly.

“Could you be able to make it stay warm at all times? Like body temperature or a bit hotter?” You glanced down at the metal box and he widened his eyes, understanding that you’d seen his slip-up. He nodded, “I’ll have it done in a week and delivered to the crowclub, I presume?” he said and eyed something behind you. Kaz was back.

“Thank you so much!” You smiled and he gave you a nod. As you turned around you were met with Kaz handing you a bag with Wylans stuff in it and you took it from his hand with a nod. Snow was still falling and you let your gaze linger on the powdered snow that fell in Kaz’ hair when he took off his hat to free it from the snow that had gathered upon it. He caught your lingering gaze and raised an eyebrow at you but let a smirk pull at his lips anyway.

“Time to head back?” He wondered and you nodded. He began leading you through the market and then eventually down the streets of Ketterdam, back towards the slat. You were walking close enough to feel each other's presence but not close enough to touch. Kaz appreciated you for not pushing his boundaries but still staying close enough as comfortable.

When you reached the slat, Kaz pulled the door open for you and held it open. You stepped inside and was met with a sight you never thought you’d see. The whole slat was covered in Christmas decorations.

Tinsel was wrapped around the bar, someone (probably Jesper) had brought in a Christmas tree and decorated it with tinsel, baubles and lights. On top sat a crow decoration. Someone had strung up fairy lights in the ceiling and tinsel was wrapped around the banister. You saw Kaz roll his eyes at the mess made but a small smile and the fact that he didn’t say anything about removing it made you smile wide.

“What have happened here?” He mumbled but smiled slightly at your reaction. You turned to him with glimmering eyes and a wide smile.

“Jesper probably.” He laughed discreetly at that and nodded, “yeah, probably.”

You’d almost forgotten the presents in your hands and hurried over to the tree to put them there until Christmas Day. Please with today's effort you headed over to the bar for a glass. Kaz joined you not soon after and Wylan and Jesper came bouncing down the stairs and gave you a walkthrough on the decorating. Warmth filled your heart for the people you shared this home with and you couldn’t stop smiling the whole evening.

Nina and Matthias made everyone some food and Inej set a table for the 7 of you. Wylan put on some music, although Christmas music was a step too far and you had to settle for some classical instead. You lit some candles and Kaz and Jesper made everyone a drink. It filled you with love for the found family you’d been so lucky to have gotten and you swore that day to do everything you could to assure their happiness. Especially during Christmas.

———

@hotmoms4life

[jessicanjpa]

birthday

Party planning with a dash of angst. An excerpt from this 1992 one-shot, Edward POV.

Telepathy had its uses. I was carrying a stack of boxes piled more than a foot above my head as I followed Alice around the living room, but looking through her eyes made it easy enough.

"I still don't understand why we're doing this," I said, mumbling into the cardboard mashed against my face.

Alice plucked another string of lights out of the top box wobbling above me. "Because it's been far too long since this family had a party. Two inches closer, please."

"No, it hasn't. You threw Carlisle that Doctor of the Year thing back in November."

"Exactly! And what better reason to celebrate than our mother's birthday?"

I snorted into the cardboard. "If you haven't noticed, birthdays aren't particularly meaningful around here." I sighed as the world went black again. "Alice, would you please keep your eyes open so I can see?"

"Hold on." The blackness swirled into color as she focused on a new vision. The colors gave way to a frothy swirl of white, polka-dotted by the glaring brightness of electric light. "Tulle!" Alice gasped, jumping off the ladder and landing in the hallway at a run. "Come on, help me find it! I know Rosalie packed it when we moved, it might be in that big trunk with the Christmas garlands..."

I shook my head and set the boxes down. When Alice got like this, it was best to just follow orders and keep your head down. Her visions were going a mile a minute by the time I met her in the attic. Tulle and twinkle lights, deep orange roses clustered in each corner of the ceiling—

"Good luck getting those in February," I put in, only to be shushed.

They'd go perfectly with the wrapping paper, and they must be available somewhere, otherwise I wouldn't have seen it, thank you very much.

"Hold on, what wrapping paper?" I asked. "We're doing presents?"

She rolled her eyes and threw open the nearest steamer trunk. "It's a birthday party, Edward."

"What are you giving her?"

"I've had my eye on this darling pea coat that's just right for her. Emmett's out picking flowers, Rosalie already wrapped hers—oil paints and three new canvases—hmm, maybe the canvases should be from Jasper..."

I stood up, nearly bumping my head on one of the rafters. "Why does everybody know about this but me?"

"Because you never come up for air when you're at the piano these days. It's not my fault you're a lazy telepath."

"What should I give her?"

Alice began pulling a length of sheer white cloth out of the trunk. "Ah, here it is!"

"Just tell me, Alice. What am I giving Esme?"

"Jewelry again. Only not that hideous turquoise brooch, if you please."

Jasper came home soon afterward to relieve me from decor duty. I retreated to my room to pick out the jewelry. I wouldn't be able to do this much longer, shelling out Elizabeth Masen's heirlooms to my mother and sisters; there wasn't much left. Besides the turquoise brooch, there was a pearl necklace in need of repair, the oval engagement ring, a bracelet with a little emerald flower charm, a few gaudy rings that would probably never be fashionable again, and a tangled pair of necklaces.

I sat down on my leather couch and carefully began to pick at the knotted necklaces, studiously ignoring the shining diamond heart wedged in the corner of the jewelry box beneath them. It wouldn't do to get wrapped up in that again.

[sayingyournames]

7 up 🌟

directions: post seven or more lines from a wip - thank u @greenvlvetcouch& @ryder-the-writer for tagging me!

this is from my fic you wouldn’t like me - trans sirius in 2005~ first chapter goes up sunday, march 26th over on my ao3. this is more than 7 lines & it isn’t edited <3

Sirius stands in front of his mirror and pins their messy hair up into a twist with one hand, digging around in his jewelry box with the other. He slides a pair of simple star-shaped studs into place, swaying to the beat and watching the curve of his own hips in the mirror like they belong to someone else. Over the years his body has smoothed out a little, blurred at the edges into something harder to pin to any particular gender.  A new, low voice with the same long hair. Sharp jaw and delicate hands - doll parts on a doll body. Sirius has always been so careful to present as masculine as possible, clinging onto the idea of being a man - of proving his family wrong. But it doesn’t fit anymore - man. Not really. Now he pictures gender more like a mirrorball, and he is something new in every single reflection. It used to make him nervous, the thought of gender as something he could spin into whatever shape he wanted. Now, in the warm afternoon light, he lets it lift him up. Sirius digs through to the back of their closet and hesitates for only a moment before pulling out the black velvet skirt. It’s heavy in his hands, the fabric soft and smooth. He’s never been able to bring himself to wear it. But James knows, now - perfectly kind, normal James. Sirius had told him the deepest of truths and the world had continued to spin, after all. Sirius knows how it feels to expose the tender, vulnerable belly of himself and he doesn’t want to hide it anymore. The outfit comes together with a sheer tank top, binder clear as day beneath it. A shiny new nose ring, tall platform boots. Feminine and sharp, the cut of their hips framing the thick trail of hair peeking out where the skirt sits low on their body. Paired with his broad shoulders and smooth face the image in the mirror is striking; put together, a pretty picture - uniform and neat like a carefully stacked jenga tower - one wrong touch and the whole thing would topple over. Now, though, he isn’t afraid of someone pulling out the wrong piece.

[liyawritesss]

ᖴᒪOᗯEᖇᔕ Iᑎ ᗷᒪOOᗰ - ᐯᗩᒪEᑎTIᑎEᔕ ᗪᖇᗩᗷᗷᒪEᔕ

Ｄａｙ １０ － Ｇｉｆｔ Ｅｘｃｈａｎｇｅ

－ Pink Elephant - Sheva Alomar - Resident Evil 5

－ In which Sheva receives a gift from a comrade during the BSAA's office event, however, it is unsigned.

－ Check out more prompts and other activities on the Flowers In Bloom Event Masterlist!

The sound of phones ringing, keyboards clicking and mundane talk was customary within the office sector of the BSAA West African Branch. The stench of coffee was ever present in the air, but even that wasn’t enough to stir Sheva’s frustrated, though curious, gaze at the item that rested on her desk. Her eyebrows had been furrowed deep on her forehead since she’d gotten the little charm bracelet earlier in the day. It still rested in it’s gift box, shining in the piss-poor fluorescent lighting from the office ceiling. She unconsciously tapped the pen in her hand on her lips in thought, racking through her brain on who could have been the bestower to this gift.

She should be focusing on her paperwork; the case she had just finished up with Chris Redfield had stacked up a mountain of reports she needed to sign off and send out to be filed. Yet every time she turns to try and focus on it, the mystery behind the piece of jewelry always brings her attention away from it.

Sheva’s semi-given up on the paperwork at this point, tossing her pen onto the desk and instead replacing it by picking up the bracelet in her hands to examine it. Thin pieces of brown and tan string are woven and tied together, with pieces of each end left out to make slipping it on and off easy, as well as for adjusting the tightness of it on the wearer's wrist. Wooden and crystal beads decorate the band and in the middle is a metal platelet with an engraving of a double-headed battle axe. It didn’t take her long to determine the symbolism of the axe to be representative of the God of protection, Shango, from Yoruba beliefs. 

The thought and care put into the gift did wonders in making Sheva smile in the moment upon being called to receive her gift from the table, but now, she’s eager to know who had been behind it. There were a handful of possibilities that came to her mind, but most of them she had already crossed off her list as she watched her comrades interact, some having revealed to their partners that it was they who had gifted them their gift, others already knowing who their benefactors were. She was running out of options, and quite frankly, it was making her go a little crazy.

There was one candidate, however, that she still thought plausible. Though just the mere thought of them put her on edge.

Her eyes shift past the bracelet in her hand and to the desk two spaces away from her own, falling upon you, the fairly new recruit that had been bumped up to the Beta task force within the first six months of your arrival. You had skill, guts, and a mouth more rancid than any undead she’d faced, and she hated the fact that you could grab her attention so easily. 

Could this be simple admiration, or could this be the beginnings of a crush? Sheva couldn’t tell the difference between the two, but what she could tell was that the desire to impress you, to get to know you, was prevalent in her chest whenever the two of you crossed paths. Quite frankly, if it was you that had gifted her the bracelet, it would be a great talking point for her to approach you with. Then again, the thought of it being the opposite posed a distasteful feeling in her throat.

A sigh leaves her lips as she watches on. A part of her hoped that you were the gifter of this piece of jewelry, but after much internal deliberation, Sheva tucked the bracelet in her desk and forced herself to attend to her reports once more. With the amount of people trickling out of the office now, and knowing that you make it a point to be one of the last late stragglers leaving, she’ll be able to confront you soon enough.

[knotty-et-al]

Sorry to bother you again but have you done origami? If you haven't I'd love to see some origami from you!

Hi there! Yeah, it's alright. I like receiving asks/messages, tough it often takes a lot of time for me to reply. (Sorry for that.)

I already made some Origami, and I want to share once I feel able or motivated to photograph them.

(I find photographing Origami crafts veeery difficult.)

I made some modular Origami, and I also created a Shishabo cube with 12 irregular tetrahedron modules that a friend has shown me. (My friend created those modules, and we sometimes/often do Origami together.)

- - -- ---

My recent Origami craft was this stacked flower petal thingy

(It is an art object. But it can also be used as tiny sorting box for stuff like earrings, piercing jewelry or tiny crafting utensils.)

Top view:

(I added a hook made from wire. )

Bottom view:

(with a bead and wire at the center)

Three layers: (plus I attached two tiny red leather möbius strips, a blue origami link that my friend has given me and a tiny glass klein bottle below.)

Attached to furtherly add a second layer:

(white and pretty neon colors)

These are other "flower petal boxes" I made:

Making the modules is fun. I can also do it blindly. (Helpful if my eyes are very tired but I want a calmful activity to do.)

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

I want to share some other origami soon. (I will tag it as "origami". )

[twistnet]

wrapping gifts [ erin lindsay ]

⋯ SUMMARY ; lindsay family traditions including rushing around at the last minute to wrap all the gifts you’ve gotten each other

⋯ WARNINGS ; afab!reader, slight angst [ unpreparedness + slight panic ] + general fluff [ sweet moments + cuddling ]

it was your first year being invited to your girlfriends home for the holidays -- seeing as you didn’t have any plans of your own and all of your friends had left town to visit their respective homes for the holidays.

once erin had secured her holiday time off, the both of you packed up and headed over to her adoptive parents home. you had met them plenty of times before now -- hank voight having run a complete background check on you and may have shown up on your doorstep to question what your intentions were with someone he considered to be his daughter.

erin had been more or less mortified when you had told her about the interaction, and it seemed she had given the man an earful as he was back on your porch the next day with his head hung low as he softly apologized -- while still maintaining that he would come after you if you broke her heart. something you promised would never happen.

hank had ripped the door open before either of you could knock, hugging you both before ushering you into the heated house and helping the both of you with your coats. olive was quick to enter the living room from the kitchen with daniel in her arms and a big smile.

“it’s good to see you both! glad you were able to make it in all this heavy weather.” case in point, the heavy blanket of snow that covered the road. you shivered slightly, rubbing your hands together in an attempt to warm them.

hank, who took note of your coldness, immediately gathered everyone into the kitchen for a warm meal, citing that he didn’t attempt to cook something for it to all go to waste. the five of you took your seats, happily chatting and updating each other on the events that had taken place in your life since you had last seen each other.

ending dinner with hank patting the top of the table and looking over at each one of you with a guilty smile, “would you be willing to help me wrap the last of the gifts?” he utters bashfully, looking down at his plate as the rest of you gape at each other, “hank, it’s christmas eve.”

“i know... i just can’t wrap them really well, and i was hoping everyone would be here a little earlier in the week, but then the snow...” he trails off, and erin quickly reaches across the table to pat his arm, “don’t worry, we’ll help you. where are the gifts?”

and that’s how you and erin found yourselves locked up in one of the guest bedrooms, wrapping hank’s gifts for olive and daniel. while you were sure that olive and hank were wrapping the gifts hank had gotten for you and erin. but you didn’t quite mind. there was a holiday movie playing the in the background -- something erin had insisted on playing while you wrapped the gifts in front of you. 

wrapping paper, tape and bows lay scattered along the floor, leaving behind quite the mess that you know was going to be stuck to the bottom of your socks if you somehow stepped wrong on your way out.

“is that all of the gifts?” you question, stacking up the pile you had previous wrapped into your arms. erin looks around and shakes her head, “i don’t see anything else, but i wouldn’t mind a little privacy to wrap something i got you.” immediately, you shut your eyes, nearly tripping as you ran into the door causing erin to laugh, “be careful!”

the second the door shut, she immediately dug into her bag. grabbing the small jewelry box and popping it open. inside sat a ring you had mentioned liking months ago -- erin had immediately purchased it and had held onto it until the right moment. this was the perfect moment, and all she had to do was wrap it.

once she was done, she piled it together with the rest of the gifts she wrapped and trailed into the living room to drop the gifts under the tree. she found everyone else already settled onto the couches waiting for her to join.

“took you long enough, hope you wrapped them better than me.” hank states as she gets everything settled in before taking a seat next to you on the couch. arm wrapping around your shoulder as she pulled you in case, hoping that you would be just as excited about your gift tomorrow as you were right now. and if the smile on your lips was anything to go on, it was going to be a good morning.

blog navigation ⇢ [ one chicago masterlist ]

[hellonexrth]

001. faithless philosophy elena gilbert: one-shot tw: cheating

Elena Gilbert was not unfamiliar with grief. In fact, it felt inescapable, like every person in her life would be taken away from her at some point in time. Her parents, Jenna, Jeremy. The very idea of her having a family was against the universe's wishes. Damon was supposed to be different. A vampire who had died many a time before, he was supposed to be a permanent fixture in her life.

After the deaths of Klaus and Elijah, the vampire felt lucky to have kept her family together. She'd reached out to her friends suffering, Caroline and Hope, to let them know that she was always just a phone call away, that her door was always open should they need anything at all. That extension of support, her willingness to be there for those in need was, somehow, met with retaliation. Something Hope had to prove. To her, to her own family, she didn't know. But it had cost Damon his life. The worst part was this: Elena didn't need to be shown. If anyone understood grief, if anyone understood the need to turn everything off and disappear, it was her. So why had Hope felt the need to take one of the only people the vampire had left down with her?

She still couldn't wrap her head around the situation, couldn't make heads or tails of it. Couldn't process the overwhelming feeling of anger she had that made her want to find a way to kill the tribrid for what she'd done. A feeling she, of course, would never actually act on, but she couldn't help the hatred that rose to the surface whenever she thought about her husband's demise.

Even as weeks passed, those feelings continued in full force. Grief, despair, anger. Time didn't seem to make them fade in the slightest. So when a friend suggested packing away some of Damon's stuff in order to clear her mind, she got started on the project almost immediately.

She'd packed away a lot of his stuff already. In actuality, he really didn't have all that much for someone who'd been alive for so long. Most of his clothes could fit in just a few boxes, and when she started on his personal items, it was immediately apparent that he only kept things that really mattered.

In a small wooden box tucked away in his closet, she found the vervain necklace she'd been given by his brother in high school. She pulled the dainty chain out of the box and let it hang in front of her as she admired it. So many stories surrounding such a small piece of jewelry. Unlatching the locket took effort, but eventually, she was able to flip it open and reveal the dried vervain inside. Carefully, she dumped it into the trash before putting the necklace on. How long had it been since she'd worn the thing? It had to have been years. Maybe a decade or more. Why had Damon kept it locked up in a box in the closet when it held such sentimental value to her?

She picked up the small box and sat on the bed with it, pulling out other items from her and Damon's past. Underneath a picture of them from their wedding, she found a small stack of folded parchment tied up with twine. Letters. Curious. Did it count as snooping if the person was dead? If you'd spent your life with them and thought they hadn't kept any secrets?

With deft fingers, she untied the string. In counting, there were nearly twenty letters in the small package, each about a page in length. She unfolded the first one and found a familiar script. Not Damon's, nor her own. Passages like I miss you and it was a mistake, but I can't stop thinking about it, and even I love yous in looping cursive font, signed at the bottom by one Bonnie Bennett.

She dropped the letter like she'd been stung and leaped from the bed, pacing back and forth across the room she'd shared with a man she trusted with her entire being. There had to be some mistake, right? Certainly, her best friend hadn't been in love with her husband? Unable to help herself, she combed through the remaining letters. All from Bonnie, dated back through 2015. Before they'd been married, before they'd adopted Theodore together. When she'd been asleep, when Damon and Bonnie had both been dead. The letters painted a picture of a long, arduous affair to which Elena had been clueless about.

Water droplets fell on the page she held. She was crying, her face soaked with tears she barely noticed. She flipped through the pages again and again, looking for some hidden message, some code she was missing, some just kidding! or other note that would prove this was all some sick joke. But clearly, it wasn't, it couldn't be. He'd kept these letters along with her necklace and other personal items with great sentimental value.

The vampire hesitated. She wanted nothing more than to burn them, to rip them to shreds, and to scream at the top of her lungs. She was an idiot. How could this have gone on so long in the background without her knowing? How could two of the closest people in her life have been lying to her all this time? And he was dead and she couldn't even confront him, couldn't even yell at him to his face, couldn't tell him off for all the lies. It all stayed in a tight ball in her chest with nowhere to go but down, deeper and deeper until it felt like it could suffocate her completely.

Without taking a moment to think, the widow snapped a picture of the letters and sent them to Bonnie with no message attached. Staring down at the screen of her phone, her legs tucked close to her chest, she watched as the bubbles appeared and disappeared for what felt like hours before she received a short message that said only: I'm so sorry.

She threw her phone across the room, shattering it against the wall on impact as a scream loosed from her throat and the tears came faster than before. Dropping her head onto her knees, she continued to cry. Because what else was there to do? There were no fights to have, no marriage to save, he was already gone. And she was alone and angry and betrayed, and all she could do was grieve the man she thought she knew, the marriage she thought she'd had.

[liminalpebble]

The Refugee: Chapter 22

Masterlist Link 

Loki had already planned a celebration in her honor before the events in the reading room, and when the announcement found her, she chuckled bitterly at the ridiculousness of her situation.

She was packing her life up, yet again, the flat wheel of her fate creaking into its interminable motion. Lenora's few precious items were neatly laid out on the huge bed, seeming small and insignificant on the vast spread of the duvet. Is this all she had accumulated of her own in this life? She scanned the inventory; a small tin of rare Morhari tea, her stack of books, the silky fabric of her neatly folded costume, her headdress, a tray for candles, the ore from Noa's family, a bag of coin, a small bag of toiletries, some changes of clothes. Was this it? Was this her whole life in summary?

She packed yet again, in nearly the same way she had every time before. She stared for some time at the golden jewelry pieces Loki had painstakingly commissioned for her. For a moment she thought of hurling them off the balcony, but she couldn't bear to. In spite of all his ulterior motives, she knew deep down that it was a gesture of love for her; his furious, jealous, intoxicating, euphoric, tragic, beautiful, terrible love. She placed the pieces carefully in a box, then reverently placed them in her bag. She got lost in her memories for a moment, remembering Loki fastening the barrette into her hair, lacing her gown, teaching her to dance, clasping the necklace around her throat, stroking her hair, smiling at her and telling her she looked lovely, then her memory hurtled forward into every kiss, touch, gasp, cry, scream, and moan she had with him. Her memory traveled on to Magnus' lips and kind adoring eyes, their first and only passionate kiss, the touch of his hands when he healed her, dancing with her head on the doctor's shoulder, laughing drunk down the empty hallways with him, falling asleep with her head tucked into his pale blue uniform and his scent of lemon trees in the sunshine, the sandwiches and tea he shared with her, his wide incandescent smile, the soft texture of his fiery hair. She swallowed the lump in her throat, telling herself there would be time to mourn later, but not now.

She needed her scimitars from the armory. After the party tonight she would sneak away for them. Lea hoped that with her new magic abilities she would be able to get past any enchantments and escape the citadel. She would be brave this time. She would decide. But where will you go? Asked a frightened voice in her mind. Lea had no answer, but she knew how to run for her life. Perhaps Queen Nadia would give her sanctuary? She would head south then, she decided, into Vanir territory.

Lenora arrived to the party exactly when summoned in an elegant gown, looking the part as Loki always hoped she would. As she parted the double doors and the light of the room spilled over her, she was greeted with thunderous applause. She smiled and curtsied politely and graciously as she was taught, hiding the cannon ball of sorrow which was barreling through her. The real Lenora hid in the back of her mind finishing her plan of escape. Loki and Magnus were there, of course, pale-faced and sheepish but dressed in their finest uniforms and armor, respectively. They both had so many words crowding the tips of their tongues for her, but none could be spoken now. Instead, they took turns with the others bowing and kissing her hand, and she responded with the appropriate replies, like a charming automaton. They wanted an obedient doll, she thought bitterly, then that's what they shall have.

She left the party early but politely. Neither Loki nor Magnus dared to offer her a walk back to her quarters, thankfully. As soon as she closed the door to her room, she changed into her traveling clothes and slung on her pack. She took one last look around the beautiful tower quarters that had been her almost-home for months now, raising her eyes to drink in the sight of all those beautiful books and the night sky shining its beams of silvery moonlight through the glass ceiling and huge window. No longer the princess in the tower. Just a refugee peasant again, she thought. Quietly closing the door to the room and her life here, her heart ached as the knob clicked into place with the familiar, delicate, distinct sound she would now recognize eternally from hearing it so many times. Her face felt tight and hot. Her throat ached. Her jaw clenched. She ignored it. She had to go.

It was surprisingly easy to fetch her swords from the armory on her way out. Everyone had come to know her face and habits and expected her occasional visits to practice (even at night if insomnia haunted her), so she simply nodded and waved to the usual trainers and servants as she passed. She found her weapons, and now with her new magical sight inspected them for enchantments, still not entirely sure how she was able to do it. There was no spell preventing the swords from leaving the keep, but there was still the spell making them non-lethal, like a protective sheath over the sharp edge of each blade. She fumbled with the magic a little bit, but it was one of Loki's own very strong enchantments. Since he had had a few thousand years of being a sorcerer and extensive training, and she hadn't, she couldn't remove the hex. She decided she could solve this problem later. I'll burn that bridge when I get to it. Burning one at a time is enough for now.

Arriving at the great gaping maw of the black granite arch, she took a deep breath to prepare herself to cross the threshold. She could see there were emerald green sigils of a spell on both of her wrists to alert Loki if she attempted to leave, but it would not injure her if she did. It must have been there since the beginning but she didn't have a way to see it. That unsettled her deeply; how easily and secretly he could mark her, in so many ways. Again, Lea took valuable time fumbling in the dusk with the perfectly crafted spell. Time was of the essence so she decided to abandon the futile attempt, run as quickly as possible in the leeway she might have, then hide when Loki's forces descended upon her. At least it was dark and at least the terrain was steep and rocky. It would slow down the soldiers in their armor a bit more than it would delay her.

So with a final deep breath, Lea braced herself and began to run, skidding down the rocky terrain toward the treeline of the southern forests, hoping she wouldn't twist an ankle on the jagged trip downhill. It was mere moments before she could hear the thunder of hooves, clanking armor, and shouted orders behind her. She sprinted around the rocks for the trees of the south, which she realized were much much farther away than they seemed. In seconds she would be snatched up. She felt the cold splash of despair just before a warm golden light enveloped her and she tumbled to the polished intricate floor of Queen Nadia's throne room.

Lea struggled to right herself as her eyes scanned upward to the monarch's tall and lovely form, yellow silk gown billowing around her. The refugee adjusted herself into a kneeling position as her breath and heart still pounded in her chest. She was surprised when the queen's own dark graceful hand reached down to lift her from the floor.  As Loki had done so many times before, Queen Nadia lifted Lea's eyes to meet her gilded ones.

“Welcome again, Lenora of the Morhari. I grant you sanctuary here.”

Nadia, reached down bathing her wrists in golden light until the green runes dissolved before their eyes. She then did the same with Lea's swords.

Lea stood wide-eyed in disbelief. “Thank you, Your Highness, but doesn't my presence here complicate your agreement with Emperor Loki? I don't want to cause a civil war.”

She laughed low and soft. “My dear, he fears me more than you'd think. Some boundaries he wouldn't dare to cross, despite my reign being under his. I have prevented him from transporting himself into my realm for the time being. We'll see how he behaves and decide if he shall be permitted an audience with us.”

“Forgive my curiosity, my lady, but why do you bestow such kindnesses on me, the magic most of all?” Lea asked, utterly disoriented and confused, her voice still halting and breathless.

“Because I respect you, Lenora. You have great potential, and I have given you even more. You now have the same raw magic power as the king, himself, and if you are amenable to it, I should like you to stay here for some time so I might teach you to harness these abilities...and not as a prisoner, or as a servant to my realm. You will have true freedom here.”

She stepped forward and held both Lea's hands, “You have spent far too long as a pawn of men and a prisoner. Here you will have your power and your freedom, forced to no man's side.” Lea looked around and saw that every guard in her throne room and every adviser by her side was a woman. Lea heaved a sigh of relief. Nadia smiled, “ We'll settle you to your quarters, and after you've rested for as long as you desire, we can begin your training.”  

Lea looked utterly fearful, panicked. “What if he tries to take me back? What if he is enraged and does something terrible in retaliation?”

The queen smiled, unperturbed. “Then, my dear, he will very much regret that he has. These boys must learn some manners and patience. Don't you agree? Besides, he'll have his hands very full with the battles on the Jotun front. He needs our forces far too much to compromise our accord.” Lea nodded and smirked sheepishly. “Welcome, on behalf of the Vanir.”  

Lea exhaled in a long, relieved sigh. “Thank you, Your Highness. I'm forever in your debt.”

@lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtigger @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @unlucky-number-13 @sweetsigyn @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration

(Thank you, thank you, thank you again!)

[karisomk]

Ndithande Ch. 1 part 1 AU Attuma x Okoye based on the Fall into Me series with Alex.

“Oh, my Bast. No!” she groaned as she saw another trying to carry two boxes at a time inside. Some of the movers exchanged looks with one another but said nothing. Trying to be polite and follow her command and decided to place one of the boxes down carefully and presumed to take it inside the home. Unknowingly to Okoye, Shuri had tipped the movers handsomely, already having a hunch just how tedious the move was going to be for them and Okoye. Her head was pounding by the time the movers were finished and yet there was still so much to do. She even sent a voicemail to Shuri stating she didn’t need to pay the movers on her behalf but still thanked her. Although the movers were handling her items a little too roughly to her liking, they did place her couch in front of the fireplace as she requested. Her bedding items were stacked neatly in her room as well her kitchen items were stacked in their rightful place as well. As inviting as the couch looked at that moment, she moved to her kitchen first to pull out the dishes and pots she brought with her. Wanting to put those items away first before doing the same in her living room. Slowly but surely her new home was becoming more of a space she could relax in.

A pile of cardboard was made in the living room as she finally moved into her bedroom, she was glad she was able to get the spacious one-story home. Gray wooden flooring was placed throughout the house while some walls were either painted dark teal or gray. Something the previous owner left up, allowing the new owner to make the choice if they wanted to repaint the walls or not. She didn’t mind the color; it was certainly a drastic change from the deep reds and browns she once painted in her home with W’kabi. Nimble fingers slowed down just as she glanced around her bedroom, most of her clothing was put away and yet still she felt there was something missing. Her thoughts went to her ex-husband with a light frown while she fluttered her eyes closed. Willing herself to stop the tears that threaten to form. W’Kabi wanted to try again and work on the marriage, he begged her, and yet Okoye denied him. With a light sniff, she grabbed her stack of clothing and moved to stuff the clothing into the middle and top drawer. No matter how her heart ached to see the noble steed she had grown attached to as well. The white horse named M20, she knew W’Kabi was his rightful owner, and asking about the horse would just stir more unwanted conversation with her ex-husband. It was late afternoon by the time Okoye got her curtains up in her bedroom and living room along with starting dinner. Choosing white sheer curtains for some privacy in the living room and gray for her bedroom. She opened two of her windows in the kitchen to allow the cool breezes in. She had changed into a long strapless knit black dress, still wearing her golden jewelry and red lipstick. Much to Shuri’s dismay, she requested an older stove instead of a stainless flat top. She always preferred the old design of stoves to new ones, if Okoye could she would have wanted a stone stove overall. She made a mental thought to see if she could have one built outside but for now, the gas stove worked just fine for her. Spices and braised lamb filled the living room and even traveled outside some. She settled on making Pilau with braised lamb for her first night in her new place, smiling softly to herself while checking on the rice. Shuri had placed a housewarming gift with Okoye’s things, which she didn’t find until later on. A duo speaker set that allowed her to play her favorite music that Shuri had fixed for her. The soft melody of Love Nwantiti by CKay was playing.

Just as she reached to lower the heat on her rice, a soft rap on her front door was heard over the music. Glancing at the door, she moved her meat away from the heat before turning it off completely and doing the same to her rice. Just as another knock was heard on her front door. “Eh? Just a minute, please. I am coming. “She called back. Wiping her hands on a nearby kitchen cloth she made her way to her front door, opening the door she gave a curious look.

Attuma lowered his hand and his gaze overlooking Okoye, this was certainly different from what he saw earlier. He wasn’t ashamed to let his gaze wander some before he offered a polite smile. Flawless umber toned skin that looked soft to the touch, full pouty lips with lovely brown eyes that bore into him. Noticing just how much red was certainly her color at that moment. What agitation he had for his new neighbor was partially gone but replaced with mostly curiosity. To see such a beautiful woman, who had bought this countryside home near his, he wanted to know about her.

“Yes, Can I help you?” Okoye questioned with a light glare while she crossed her toned arms over her chest.

“My apologies for disturbing you but I wanted to inform you that one of my goats escaped. And before I began to wander in your backyard. I wanted to inform you,” he stated. Attuma’s voice was deep and yet calming. Okoye squinted her eyes searching his face to see if he was lying before nodding. She had to look up at him to meet his gaze, the other was taller than her as she was sure he would have to bend down to even get in her own doorway. He was still wearing his dark plaid button shirt, although there was a light sheen of sweat on his brow while his soiled gloves were tucked into his pocket. Attuma turned away to walk down the small set of stairs off her porch and around the back of her home. Even if the man was practically ogling her, she did feel he wasn’t lying to her. Okoye quickly grabbed a pair of sandals to wear only to follow Attuma outside.

“You do not have to follow me, this will be done quickly, and I will be on my way,” he said, not bothering to turn around to look at Okoye. Afraid if he did, he was sure something foolish would slip his lips.

She sucked her teeth in response, stretching her stride to catch up with him, “The sun is setting, and you are coming to my property asking about a stray animal. I will see fit that you will get your goat and then yes, I will let you be on your way.” She said bluntly.

“If you think I am sneaking about your land, I am not. Besides before you moved here, this was an area that she seemed to always stray to when getting out. “

“I didn’t say that, but I do not know you nor do I even know your name.” she shot back.

Which was true, at most she knew she had a neighbor but nothing more than that. “My name is Attuma and yours?” he questioned softly while glancing around.

“Okoye, “she stated.

“Well, Okoye it is nice to meet you then.” Attuma offered a light nod while saying her name slowly to himself as if trying to memorize it. A soft bleat was heard to the right of them, a small white and auburn baby goat wandering around looking to weed roots to eat. Attuma gestured for Okoye to stay still while he slowly approached the goat, “Chia, come here so we can go home” he said, kneeling some. A few soft bleats were Attuma’s only response though the goat moved toward him after a while. Once close enough he wrapped a strong arm around the small goat as he stood up. Offering a few scratches to the goat’s chin, “I apologize once again for disturbing you, Okoye.” He said looking at her while she nodded in return. “It is fine, good to see Chia is safe with you now.” She said quietly. Attuma notices her demeanor softens at the sight of the baby goat.

For some reason, Attuma hadn’t walked away from her but only turned slightly in the direction of his property. With a glance at his property, he looked back at Okoye who was already moving back to her home. Attuma watched her go, watching the silhouette of her swaying hips in that black dress.

[zealouscanonindeer]

10. Armored armoire

A girl?" I asked the urchin who had come from the decorators', "Are you quite sure about that?"

"Well," replied the lad, "Either it were a girl wiv 'er 'air all chopped orf, or it were a boy in need of a trim. Dint 'ear 'er talk, so cain't say for sure."

"And were you able to get the name of the deliveryman in question?"

"Nosir, Mr 'Olmes. But he's the biggest bloke I ever seen."

"Thank you. Go back to your posts and await further instructions." They scattered like leaves. "What is this world coming to," I murmured, "When one cannot tell boys from girls on sight." I caught the amused look Miss Cartwright shot me. "I'm sure you know what I mean, Miss Cartwright."

"Of course," she said lightly, and dropped the subject. "The decorators' and the delivery service seem to be the two likeliest candidates for the stolen property to be stored until the thieves get rid of it. There's no telling how much we're looking for, though... unless of course you know of any fences."

"I've met poisoners, blackmailers, and petty thieves during my career," I replied, "but I happen to know that the London underworld is too vast for two people to check by themselves, especially if we do not know what it is we seek."

"You have a point there. So where to first: the decorators or the deliverymen?"

"Just offhand, I should think the delivery service would be a more logical choice, since a place such as they would use as their base would be filled with crates and packages of all sizes and shapes."

"But no one item for any length of time, I should think. Suppose the florist had a order for several bouquets, to be delivered to a certain address on a certain day."

"Well, of course perishables such as flowers would be delivered the same day, but there would also be parcels sent through the post and such - which would still need to be delivered within a reasonable timeframe."

"So, we just walk in the front door and ask to see whatever has been sitting there for a while?"

I smiled dryly. "A pair of street rats like ourselves? We'd be taken for petty scavengers."

*****

An hour later found us inside the storage area of the delivery service, surrounded by other people's gifts, other people's belongings, and with any luck, a stash of other people's jewelry. Though the room was only about fifty feet square, the stacks of boxes and piles of parcels - some of them very bulky - made it difficult to see more than a few feet in any direction.

I had had to pick the lock to the back door, of course, after an attempt to gain entry to this same room via the front door failed as miserably as I had anticipated (indeed, I would likely not have tried it at all had Miss Cartwright not insisted) and we were ejected bodily. Miss Cartwright landed badly, scraping the heels of her hands on the pavement; the gesture she offered the closed front door, though very American, fit her current role as a mute street urchin, so I had no reason to chastise her for the unladylike quality of it, though I did wonder silently where she had learned such a thing as I helped her to her feet.

It was impossible to determine the most likely starting-place in our search - which by necessity would have to be made quietly and cautiously, to avoid alerting employees in adjacent rooms - so we each picked a row and worked our way through the chaos. It was a tedious process, and I estimate we must have checked a hundred bundles apiece before our respective searches converged upon a wardrobe, constructed of mahogany, elegantly carved, and beautifully finished, standing sentinel against the wall opposite the rear door, with a few parcels piled up against it on either side. Miss Cartwright ran a hand along the top edge of the wardrobe.

"This has been here for a while," she murmured, looking at her dusty fingertips, "Now who would just abandon a beautiful piece of furniture like that?"

"Who indeed?" I asked, matching her ironic tone and opening the wardrobe doors. The neglected hinge of the left-hand door screamed horribly in protest.

It was empty - but we had no time to be disappointed, as it was at that moment that we heard voices and footfalls approaching, no doubt alerted by the noisy hinge. There was only one place to hide. I piled myself and Miss Cartwright into the wardrobe as quietly as I could - which necessitated clamping my hand over Miss Cartwright's mouth lest she try to scream in surprise - and shut the doors. Just then the door to the storeroom opened to admit - judging by the footfalls - three men, one of them heavier than the other two and another walking with a slight limp.

I strained my ears to hear any conversation between the three men that might help in our search for the stolen jewelry, but all I was able to hear was Miss Cartwright's breathing, which was slightly shaky with fear or surprise. I held my own breath, hoping that those outside would not hear us in our hiding-place, only relaxing even marginally once I heard the footfalls heading towards the door. Miss Cartwright reminded me of her presence by biting my hand, compelling me to jerk it away from her mouth. It was impossible to read her expression in the pitch-blackness within the wardrobe, but her next remark indicated that at least she was taking the whole situation with good humour.

"Well," she said sardonically in the barest whisper from somewhere adjacent to my left shoulder, "This is cosy, isn't it?" 'Cosy' was not the word I would have used. I had chosen the wardrobe in a split-second decision, basing my choice upon the knowledge that an average wardrobe is three feet deep, to accommodate the shoulders of the garments hung within. It seemed I had overestimated the depth of this particular specimen by about a foot, causing the two of us to be wedged together face- to-face, closer than we really had any right to be outside the boundaries of Holy Matrimony, with little room to breathe, and certainly no space left over for comfort or even politeness. Moreover, the inside catch of the door was digging into the small of my back, and there was no courteous way to relieve the resulting discomfort.

"It was the best I could do on such short notice, Miss Cartwright," I replied stiffly.

She chuckled softly in the darkness. "I think, considering the situation, that you have earned the privilege of calling me by my Christian name."

The wardrobe abruptly felt very stuffy. "Very well... Emily."

"May I call you Sherlock?"

"You may not," I said, a bit sharply I fear; I had my comfort zones, after all.

"Very well," she acquiesced, sounding a shade disappointed. This was no concern of mine, of course; my role here was to find out the culprit in the robbery, not succumb to her whims.

I heard the floor creak outside a bare heartbeat before the wardrobe door was flung open from without, causing the two of us to tumble out in an awkward tangle of limbs, with Emily sprawled atop me. I looked up and found that we had landed at the feet of a large man. It took only a matter of moments to recall the description Watson had given of his pickpocket. That, paired with the Irregulars' report, led me to the only logical conclusion - that we were in serious danger.

The man grabbed Emily roughly by the arm and dragged her to her feet. I felt a surge of outrage at this treatment of her, which was not at all tempered by the possibility that her assailant probably didn't even know that it was a woman he was manhandling. I got to my feet even as Emily was kicking him in the shin. He threw her aside like a rag doll, and I seized my opportunity to retaliate.

I was fairly blistering with righteous anger now, and I expect I must have seemed like a madman, attacking someone who outweighed me by a factor of three. We exchanged blows, my sharp pugilism versus his less cultured brawling.

I am no action hero, however, like such as one might find in the pulps or some of the more insipid novels nowadays, and I fear I came away the worse for the encounter. Although I am certain I left my mark on him, he also left his share of bruises on me, and in the end he grabbed me by my coat and threw me back against the rear wall of the wardrobe, where I must have struck my head. The last thing I recall with any clarity is a vision of Emily jumping on the man's shoulders and scratching at his face.