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elleaitch22 · 28 days ago

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Terms of Endearment

Chapter 6: Peace, Interrupted

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

A/N: Busy week this week, so I hope I'll be able to post chapter 7 by Wednesday! I hope you love it!! xx Elle

Warnings: Emotional abuse recovery and homophobia

Word Count: 3.4k

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Azzi blinked slowly, as sunlight began to peek through the curtains of her new bedroom. For a moment, she just lay there, listening to the quiet. No sirens, no shouting, no heels clicking outside her window. It was different. Peaceful.

Chicago was a city that never slept, but on the 59th floor of the Aurelia, Azzi finally could.

This was the first weekend she had been able to go to sleep before 3 a.m. since moving to Chicago. Now that she was free of Maison Noire, she would not be going back, ever. She had no more late-night shifts or weird customers, all because of Paige.

She nuzzled further into the soft, silky sheets and inhaled deeply. The lavender scented detergent lingered in the air, soothing Azzi’s nerves. She was rested now. She could think about Paige and all these handouts with a fully present mind.

A condo. A driver. Money. Too much money.

On one hand, Azzi wanted to say that it was a more acceptable form of what Grant was doing to her. But Jana’s comment from yesterday popped back into her head.

They said I’m family now.

And Paige? Paige clearly took care of her family.

Azzi decided she should wait it out.

People always show you who they are if you give them enough time.

She rolled out of bed, padding barefoot across the wooden floor to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth, twisted the front of her hair into a bun, and slipped into some leggings and an oversized t-shirt from her dad. She sighed as she pulled on a pair of fuzzy socks – Azzi hated cold floors.

She sat at the table, cataloging what the apartment had and listed what she still needed. She was still doing an inventory of the refrigerator’s contents when she heard a knock on her front door.

Unlike yesterday, Azzi was fully awake – awake enough to panic. Had Grant found her?

Breathe, Azzi. No one knows you live here, except for safe people.

Peeking in the peephole, she saw Ice outside balancing a tray of coffee on top of a stack of books.

She flung the door open. “Let me take some of that for you!” She exclaimed.

Ice handed off the tray and followed her into the living room.

“No shoes inside,” Azzi added.

Ice kicked her Crocs off by the door with a playful smirk, before continuing into the apartment with a slight grimace. “I’m so happy Paige sent me,” she started, “This place is making me depressed.”

Azzi ducked her head and blushed. “Excuse me,” putting a hand to her chest dramatically. “Somebody decided to move me out of my old palace and move me into this dump with no notice!”

The women giggled, “Seriously though, I’m excited to help you make this space come to life! First things first, what kind of vibes are you wanting?”

“Oh,” she paused to think. Azzi was already indecisive, but her previous relationship did not help with that. “Um, maybe just a calm vibe?” She said, unsure.

“Well, there are many different ways we could style calm. We could do forest calm with lots of greens and browns. We could do beachy calm with blues and taupes. Or we could do a darker calm, grays, blacks, and whites. Which would you pre–”

Before Ice could finish her statement, Azzi’s front door opened. “What’s up girly pops!” KK strolled into the kitchen happily. She plopped onto the couch. “Am I late?”

“Who even invited you, Kamorea?” Ice rolled her eyes.

“Girl boo!” She turned to Azzi. “Paige said y’all were gonna meet up today, and I felt let out. I’m here to help!” She beamed.

Azzi loved the happy and lighthearted energy KK brought everywhere she went. She understood why everyone liked her so much. “Thanks for coming, KK. Do you guys want some breakfast? I was going to make an omelet before Ice came over.”

Both women put their order in with Azzi, Ice moving to the dining room to make a few sample boards for Azzi to choose from, while KK followed Azzi into the kitchen.

The next thirty minutes were filled with rapid fire questions.

Why do you work with children? Do they annoy you? What do you do when you’re mad? Do you ever lose your temper? What made you want to teach anyway? What’s your favorite food? Are you allergic to anything? Did you know Soleil is allergic to gluten too? Twins! How do you feel about the arrangement and everything? Is there anything we can do to make this easier for you? Do you know how hard it is to get into our family? You know you can always ask us for help? Am I your favorite so far? Do you have social media? Can you send me your handles? Oh, you don’t have my number, here. The most important question, what are all your favorites? Food, color, season, vacation, place, restaurant, movie, show, artist, song, book, smell, holiday.

Azzi had felt like she’d undergone an interrogation, not as aggressive as it could have been, but KK was obviously fishing for information.

She didn’t mind though. Initially, she felt almost guilty, laughing and joking with her new friends. Grant never allowed her to have girl time. During the first thirty minutes of Ice and KK’s visit, Azzi looked towards the front door every two or three minutes. She was tense, bracing herself for the angry tirade Grant would go on when he got home.

Over time, Azzi’s shoulders involuntarily loosened. Her laugh came easier. And her jokes and sarcasm flowed naturally. She could breathe deeply because she had friends. For the first time in a long time, Azzi had girlfriends again. The thought made her heart stutter in her chest.

“Shut up, KK.” Ice groaned, “Azzi, come pick a sample board before Paige murders me for wasting time.”

Ice had composed seven different options for Azzi to choose from. Which was lovely, except for the fact that Azzi hated making decisions like this. She would rather someone else chose so she didn’t have to sit there stuck on the same question for five hours. She was grateful that she was cooking, so she had something else to occupy her mind.

Azzi knew she didn’t like the ones that were mostly monochromatic, which eliminated three of the seven options. She wasn’t really a fan of the palette with only different shades of brown.

She served the ladies their omelets while she looked closer had the different sample boards. She narrowed it down to three options. Baby pinks, dark teals, and golds. Pinks, oranges, and yellows. And blues and greens.

Without vegetables to cut and omelets to make, Azzi had no more distractions.

Her hands wringed together anxiously. She didn’t want to make the wrong choice.

You can’t even pick which colors you want in your house? You’re a worthless fucking idiot.

“I kinda of like the one with the orange.” Ice said when she saw how flustered Azzi was getting. “Besides, it’s no big deal. If you don’t like it, we can always change it later.”

“Yeah, girly pop! For once, Ice is right! If you do the orange, you can do more happy colors. Like you can have those yellow pillows, and orange and pick rug, and a pink couch! You can have fun in here, and if you decide you don’t like it, fuck it!” KK’s logic made perfect sense to Azzi in that moment.

She swallowed thickly, head jerking in a nod. “S-sorry, sometimes it’s hard for me to make decisions.”

Both women looked at her, sadness in their eyes. “It’s not that bad. My ex, Grant, used to make all the decisions. He was a little controlling, and it’s just a little hard to remember he’s not in charge anymore.” Azzi finished, looking down as the empty plate.

Before either woman could answer, Azzi phone rang loudly. For a second, she was a statue. Fuck, had he found her already?

“Are you gonna get that?” Ice questioned lowly.

Jogging to her room to get the device, her brow furrowed. What the hell is her school doing calling her on a Sunday.

She waited to pick up, “Sorry guys, it’s my boss. Are you cool with waiting for a second?”

Ice nodded, gathering her things quickly. “Yeah, that’s fine. I need to get these plans to Paige so they can be finished sooner.”

KK still had half her omelet, so she stayed – and ended up hearing everything.

“Good morning, Mr. Smith. I hope you’re having a good Sunday.” Azzi’s voice was filled with false cheer. She was still salty over the meeting with Paige and Soleil.

“My day would be a lot better if one of my teachers wasn’t photographed being a harlot!” The principal sneered.

Azzi reeled back, like she’d been slapped. “Excuse me?”

You’re just a slut, Azzi. Not worth anything but your mouth and your cunt.

“I’ve had seventeen parents find me during the service to say their children don’t deserve to be corrupted by someone like you. You’re fired effect–”

Azzi’s eyes bug out of her head. “Fired?” She screeches.

“This can’t be surprising to you, Ms. Fudd. After I just talked to you about your behavior, you start dating your student’s parent!” Mr. Smith fusses.

“That’s not fair!” Azzi exclaims. “Mrs. Baker used–!”

Mr. Smith cut her off. “Well, Mrs. Baker isn’t a lesbian. That goes against our code of conduct. Please be here at 6 tomorrow morning to clean out your belongings.”

Click.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to hit something.

Everything Grant had said to her came rushing back in.

You’ll open your legs for anyone who gives you a little attention. You’re a fucking whore. You think that guy’s gonna want you when he sees how used up you are? I’m so happy I don’t have kids because I could never leave them with you. You’re too fucking stupid to know how to teach them anything. The only thing you’re good at is sucking dick and laying on your back. You’re fucking pathetic. Worthless. Useless. You should be grateful I love you so much because no one else would put up with this shit.

Azzi was spiraling.

KK winced at the guttural sobs coming from Azzi’s room. She felt white hot rage at the things she overheard. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to fix it.

So she waited.

She washed the cutting boards and pans Azzi used to make breakfast. She wiped down the sink and countertops. She made sure everything was put away.

But Azzi didn’t come out. KK still heard sniffling coming from the bedroom, and she sighed. She was about to sit on the couch and wait a little longer before a thought popped in her mind. She knew exactly who could fix this.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Paige smiled softly, looking at the options Azzi selected for her space. This was probably one of the best ideas she had. She got to dump out piles of money for the brunette, she was able to make sure she had a friend here, and, if KK had done what she was supposed to do, she would know a little more about Azzi Fudd.

Ice was getting to office furnishings when KK burst in.

“Azzi just got fired!”

The chatter between the two women stilled, heads snapping up. “KK what are you talking about?” Ice questioned.

“I heard it. Her principal called. He just fired her for dating Paige. Pictures were going around and parents were complaining.” Her voice was firm, face blank. KK was serious.

The best friends looked at Paige warily. “You didn’t think about that?” Ice questioned sharply.

For once, Paige stuttered. “I-I thought I covered everything.” Rubbing her temples, leg bouncing. “I told Q to bury the story. I paid her ten thousand dollars to make everything go away. She brought me the card with all the pictures on it.”

She was pissed. Obviously at the school, but also with herself. Paige Bueckers was always supposed to be ten steps ahead of everyone else. It was why she assigned Morgan to Azzi, why she moved her into her building. She went on this whole tirade about the media getting information about her, she didn’t even think about the repercussions it would have on her. A queer Black woman working at a Christian school.

Paige didn’t know how she looked at Azzi until she looked at the photos Q had dropped off. Anyone with eyes and a brain could see the hungry gaze Paige gave her. They could see the want as she looked at Azzi painting with Soleil. The heat in her blue eyes was evident during their dance. Of course the school would think they were together.

“FUCK!”

“Mommy, that’s a bad wowd.” Soleil looked up from her LEGO tower, hand extended. “You owe me ten dollaws.”

Paige sighed, forcing herself to calm down. “I’m sorry honey.” She fished a bill out from her wallet, “I was doing so well too.”

“It’s okay! Now I can get some ice cweam!” She smiled brightly.

“I’ll take her! Fire and Ice adventure time.” Ice beamed. Soleil squealed with excitement.

All the control Paige normally had was gone. For years, she’d controlled every narrative about herself. But she lost control last night – she let everyone see how much she wanted Azzi. And she got hurt because of it. She embarrassed her. Cost her everything.

Anyone could see how much Azzi loved her job. It was in the smile she wore when she saw her students. It was in the way her classroom was decorated. It was in the way she talked to children as equals, not second class citizens.

She loved that job. She needed that job. And Paige had gone and fucked it all up.

She’s going to leave. She’s going to leave Soleil.

Paige shook her head. No. Fuck no. She wouldn’t let her mistake screw with Soleil too.

She was going to fix this. She had to fix this. She would have Allie draft a lawsuit. She would buy the school if she needed. She would take all that money for the library and move Lei to a different school. A better school.

Nothing can undo what you did. Paige deflated, lifting her head from her hands.

“She really liked her job.” KK muttered, face serious. “She wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“I know,” Blue eyes traced the designs on the rug.

“Do you want me to get Nika?” Paige nodded sharply.

Nika would know what to do. It was half her job – being the COO and CMO of Kairos Equity meant that she would know how to handle scandals and negotiations. She would tell Paige what to do.

Paige pulled out her phone to text Allie, her lawyer, when Nika’s heels clacked across the polished floors.

“KK told me what happened. What are you thinking?” She cut straight to the point.

Paige ran her hands down her pale face. “Fuck, this is all my fault.” How the fuck was she supposed to prove that she would be good enough for Azzi if she couldn’t even think enough to know that she’d get fired if their “relationship” was publicized? “Nik. I need you to help me fix this. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me if she can’t keep her job.”

Nika placed a warm hand on Paige’s shoulder. “Nothing like that’s gonna happen. I’ll fix it. Everyone knows you can’t fire someone for their sexuality; there are federal laws to support her. I’ll call Allie and have her look into it. You just need to relax.”

Paige heard the things Nika was saying, but she didn’t quite believe her. Azzi was a good teacher, and Paige’s ignorance costed her a job she was very good at.

“Have you talked to her yet?” Nika asked lowly.

The blonde shood her head, “I was planning on it. Was gonna start with talking about the shit with Ice, then try to get to know her.” She muttered.

“Oh,” Nika breathed. “That’s why you care so much.”

Paige’s head shot up, “What are you talking about.”

“You like her.” She smirked. “You’re trying to woo her, and you think she’s going to be so upset that she doesn’t give you a chance.” The stupid little smirk had turned into a full-blown grin.

“Shut up.” Through clenched teeth. “You really think she’s gonna want to talk to me today? Much less share a meal with me? She should hate me.”

“Suck it up, buttercup!” Nika says, rising from the couch. “Just ask her. She’s nice, so it’s not like she’ll say no. Use your charm and you’ll be fine. Just get her to dinner and talk to her.”

Paige pouted for a little while before doing what her big sister told her to do.

First, she texted Ice and asked her to come back after ice cream so they could finish ordering things for Azzi’s apartment.

Dinner tonight? I’ll be down to get you at 7. Wear whatever makes you comfortable.

Simple. Paige launched her phone to the sofa on the opposite side of the living room. Elbows on knees, she waited for the ding of a text message.

Ding

Azzi Fudd: How fancy is this place?

Paige sighed, she should’ve known Nika was right.

It can be casual or fancy. We’re in a private room. Wear anything but sweats.

The next ding came at the same time of the elevator.

Azzi Fudd: See you at 7

Paige only had a few seconds to wipe the smile off her face before Ice walked in.

Tonight was going to be perfect. It had to be.

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Azzi was confused.

From what she remembered, they had to do one outing a week. They had just spent the entire night at a gala. Cameras followed their every move, surely that had to be enough, right?

Maybe it’s a date? She wouldn’t mind getting to know Paige better. She was pretty, intelligent, and she had the perfect daughter. She was protective enough to make Azzi feel safe, and that is probably why she was dangerous. Grant made her feel safe too, it didn’t last long, but he did.

She knew the signs to look for now. How to differentiate between being controlling and being assertive. She wouldn’t let herself be with someone life Grant again.

Besides, Azzi knew the Paige was out of her league. She’s one of the richest women in the United States. She had seen countless articles about her being the most wanted bachelorette. She’d had girls thirsting over her since she was in high school. She could have anyone she ever wanted, and she didn’t want Azzi. No. She just pitied and appreciated her enough to adopt her into her makeshift family.

Azzi figured she should take advantage of her situation and get as much free stuff as she should. She’d be able to heal her heart later, but pretty blondes who are willing to spoil you don’t come around often.

She was grateful for the distraction the dinner would provide.

She padded to the kitchen, digging for a spoon and some ice cream, before plopping down on the couch. She set an alarm for 5:00 so she’d have enough time to get ready, opting to watch Grey’s Anatomy in the meantime.

The show still played in the background while Azzi was getting ready. She browsed her closet and landed on a burnt orange mini dress. The lightweight fabric flowed while still showing her figure. She paired it with strappy, brown sandals and a light jacket. She pulled her hair up into a tasteful puff, and after adding a light layer of makeup, she felt ready.

Paige knocked on the door promptly at 6:30. She wore an all cream Honor the Gift outfit, a pair of Nike dunk lows, and a nice Dior bracelet. Her hair was left down and in gentle waves. She looked effortlessly beautiful, and Azzi felt a little better about letting the pretty woman ruin her life.

“Hey. I should’ve asked this earlier, but are you allergic to anything?” Paige asked as they walked to the elevator.

“Just gluten, like Soleil. I miss eating things that brought me joy.” She joked.

“Perfect, the restaurant I chose has a great gluten free menu.”

Azzi let Paige lead her, waiting to see how this night would turn out.

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #pazzi fics #paige x azzi #terms of endearment

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reccyls · 3 months ago

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Victor's Main Route: Chapter 1

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The sound of a music box rings out. In the nearly-faded memory of the distant past, the curtains rise on a forgotten Act One.

???: Hey, it’s okay. Listen.

Through teary eyes, I could see a glimmering music box. Its beautiful music filled my ears, and I found my tears stopping as I looked up. I couldn’t remember a single thing about the person who let me listen to it and dried my tears. But the fact that there was someone who pressed a kiss like a blessing to my forehead, I will never, ever forget.

-----

Kate: It’s morning…

I got up and looked around my bedroom with sleepy eyes.

(I feel like I had a really nostalgic dream…)

Unfortunately, I didn’t remember what the dream was about. My shoulders dropped in disappointment as I yawned.

Kate: A lot of things happened yesterday…

Angelic Man: A pleasure to meet you, my dear Crown members. Darius: I am Darius Vogel. I lead Vogel, a group that works for the German Emperor. Victor: Vogel researches ways for Cursed Ones to contribute to society. Victor: They’ll be staying at the palace for a few months while acting as goodwill ambassadors. Darius: “The power of curses will bear fruit to a better world.” That is our motto. Darius: Though Cursed Ones may live in the shadows for now, I sincerely believe that there is a better way for us to interact with society! Darius: A future in which humans and Cursed Ones can join hands… doesn’t it send a shiver down your spine just to imagine it? The three ambassadors from Germany. Ring: Ring Schwartz… I’ll be in your care for these next few months. But if you mean us any harm, I will show no mercy. Nica: Guten Tag, members of Crown. I am Nica Schwartz. Nice to meet you. And then, there was Harry’s warning. Harrison: They’re lying.

It was now exactly a week and a day since my life as Fairytale Keeper had begun.

(Am I really going to be able to safely go back to my old life…?)

Because of the arrival of new Cursed Ones and all this cryptic talk, I had a hard time falling asleep last night because I was turning it all over in my mind.

Kate: Ah!

I jolted upright as I caught sight of the clock striking the hour from the corner of my vision.

Kate: I need to hurry!

Today was the day that Victor would be interviewing me.

-----

Kate: I’m so sorry I’m late!

Victor: You’re fine, you made just in the nick of time!

As I dashed into Victor’s office in a panic, I met Victor’s eye. He was smiling.

Victor: You didn’t have to rush. I'd wait as long as I’d need to for you.

Kate: You’re always so busy, I can’t waste your time.

I sat down on the chair he pointed me to and took several deep breaths to calm down.

Victor: Did you manage to eat breakfast?

Kate: Well, no… I overslept so I didn’t get the chance to.

That brought a pleased smile to Victor’s face. He picked up a bell that was resting on top of his desk and rang it. Almost immediately after, an attendant entered the office.

Victor: Prepare some refreshments for the both of us.

Kate: Huh?

Elderly Attendant: At once, sir.

After the attendant left, Victor took a seat opposite me with a somewhat abashed expression on his face.

Victor: The truth is, I also overslept today and I forgot to eat breakfast. Victor: If it’s alright with you, why don’t we talk while we eat together?

It sounded like a great idea, so I nodded.

Kate: So you overslept too?

Victor: I’ve been known to do so on occasion.

Perhaps Victor noticed that I had been stressed and anxious, though it was now dissipating. His expression turned apologetic.

Victor: I should apologize for calling this an interview.

After yesterday’s encounter with Vogel, I’d gotten a message that Victor wanted to see me for an interview. That made me nervous about what Victor might have wanted to ask.

Victor: It’s been a week since you’ve become our Fairytale Keeper, hasn’t it? Victor: That’s why I wanted to check in with you to see how you were holding up, or if there’s anything you’re concerned about. Victor: So don’t hold back! Tell me everything!

Kate: Well… there’s still a lot that I don’t understand yet, so I can’t deny that I’m a little anxious about it. But, everyone’s been treating me very well.

(I don’t think just how different things are now has fully sunk in yet…) (But it’s not like I have any huge complaints or anything.)

Elderly Attendant: Pardon me.

After knocking on the door, the attendant from before entered while pushing a small cart. The various dishes arranged on top made me remember how hungry I was. My mouth began to water. After pouring out two cups of steaming tea, the attendant bowed and left the office once again.

Victor: Let’s tuck in, shall we?

Kate: Gladly. Thank you!

Victor: And back to my earlier question.

As I tried the bite-sized sandwiches, Victor looked at me worriedly.

Victor: Is there really nothing troubling you?

I realized that Victor had noticed my uncertainty, and I looked away.

(I think I can tell him.)

I felt like I could be honest with Victor, because I could tell he was truly concerned.

Kate: Um, well… The truth is…

I’m worried that I’m being a bother. (+4/+4)

I’m worried what the others think of me.

The food is really good…

Kate: I’m worried that I’m bothering the others while we’re on missions.

Victor: I’ve not heard a single word from anyone about you being a bother. So you don’t need to worry about that, all right? Victor: You’re doing a much better job than you think. Victor: So if anything happens, please don’t hesitate to speak with me.

Kate: I will, thank you.

Victor picked up a report and began flipping through the pages.

Victor: Over the last week, you’ve gone on a mission with everyone in Crown. Has it been difficult? Victor: According to the report… Victor: You got roped into a game of hide and seek with Liam and Harrison after finishing some information gathering.

Liam’s Voice: Okay Kate, where am I? Kate: Huh…? Harrison: Enough already, I’m going to bed- Liam’s Voice: But Harry~ I’ve got a ticket to that all-you-can-eat cake parlor in my hand right now, you know. Harrison: You start searching from the right side. I’ll take the left. Kate: O-okay.

Victor: And then there was the mission to obtain a list of illegal transactions with Jude and Ellis…

Ellis: Sorry, Kate. Jude insisted that it had to be today. Kate: It’s fine with me. But, um… Jude: Ya knew what would happen if you broke our contract. And ya still didn’t pay me back. That right? Captured Man: I-I’ll give it back. I’ll give you back all the money, I swear, so p-please– Jude: Ya think words are gonna satisfy me, asshole? Captured Man: AAAAARGH!!!! Kate: ……

Victor: And after all that, you got caught up in Al and Roger’s bickering during an infiltration…

Alfons: And there’s just no saving him. Isn’t that right, Miss Kate? Kate: Um- Roger: Al’s the one in the wrong no matter how you look at it, little lady. Kate: I think- Alfons: Has your brain been entirely replaced by muscle? Roger: I should be asking you whether your brain is fine, or if it's been dyed pink. [TL note: I'm unfamiliar with the expression here... but the main point of it is Roger asking Alfons if he's stupid, so, yeah] Kate: Lord Elbert- Elbert: …They’re always like this… Don’t mind them… Kate: Really…?

Victor: I’ve heard bits and pieces of what happened, but has everything been fine?

Kate: Ah, well…

Victor’s lips quirked into a smile as I stared into the distance while reliving everything I’d gone through.

(It was a… surprising week. Eventful. In a good way.)

A week ago, I had no idea what I was getting into when I agreed to become Crown’s Fairytale Keeper. That made me uneasy. But looking back over everything I’d experienced, I was feeling a lot better than I thought I would be.

(I suppose that’s also because I hadn’t seen anyone else die since that day.)

Whether you called it good or bad luck, none of the missions I’d been on over the past week involved any death.

Kate: It is true that whenever I learn about another dark side of the country, it scares me. Kate: But nowadays, instead of just being scared, I start thinking more about what I can do, instead.

A week ago, I was ignorant.

Kate: I think that’s because I know what everyone in Crown does, and how they think.

If I had continued to only fear them, I wouldn’t be able to think the way I do now. I wouldn’t have thought about the fact that they were just meting out evil to those who had committed evil deeds. I wouldn’t have been able to look past the fact that they had killed someone. Murder was murder.

(But Crown isn’t like that.)

Their evil has a purpose. It doesn’t harm innocents.

Kate: One day, I hope that I can see a world where no one has to suffer because of others. And Crown’s mission of paying evil unto evil will help make it happen. Kate: And I want to be able to record all of that, as Fairytale Keeper.

I looked Victor in the eye as I spoke, and saw his slightly surprised expression.

Victor: You really have helped us far more than you realize, Kate. Victor: Let’s keep working together from now on.

Kate: Yes!

We shook hands to mark that agreement.

-----

(Hold on...)

The morning after my “interview” with Victor, I was walking down a hallway when I realized something that stopped me in my tracks.

Kate: I don’t know anything at all about Victor, now that I think about it…

He was one of Crown’s founders, and acted like its guardian. But the more that I thought, the more I realized I didn’t know the first thing about him.

(If I’m going to be the Fairytale Keeper, I need to know more about Victor too.) (But he’s always so busy. I’d hate to take time away from him.)

???: What are you doing standing in the middle of the hallway?

Kate: William!

I had ducked my head as I was lost in thought, so I startled when I looked up to meet his blood-red eyes. As I quickly averted my gaze, William looked amused.

Kate: Sorry, I’ll get out of the way.

William: No need to apologize. You make the most interesting faces, I ended up staring myself.

William chuckled as I tried to cover my face with my hands.

William: And? What’s troubling our robin?

Kate: Well, you see…

…

William: You want to learn more about Victor, but you’re afraid of interrupting his work, is it?

Kate: That’s right.

I explained what I had been thinking to William.

William: In that case, what do you think about helping Victor with his work?

Kate: How do you mean?

William grinned, just as if this was a fantastic idea.

William: If you’re afraid you’ll be bothering Victor, then you can assist him with his regular work. That way, you’ll also put yourself in a position close to him so you can learn more about him.

Kate: But I’m not sure what I can actually do to help him…

William: The easiest way to find out is to ask the man himself.

He turned on his heel and glanced back at me.

William: Let’s go.

-----

Victor: Oh my, what’s brought the both of you here? Did something happen?

I entered Victor’s office following after William to see Victor hard at work. He looked awfully busy.

William: Yes, it seems our little robin has a problem.

Victor’s quill pen, which had been scribbling away at papers, suddenly stopped. Victor’s eyes, framed by his long eyelashes, met mine.

Victor: If something is bothering our precious Fairytale Keeper, then I must do something about it right away! Victor: What kind of trouble are you having, if you don’t mind telling me?

He looked kindly at me. And then, at that moment,

William: She wants to help you with your work.

Victor: My work?

Victor looked away from William who had answered in my place and back to me. I nodded rapidly.

Kate: You always have so much work to do that I want to help in some way. Kate: And as Fairytale Keeper, I thought that I should learn more about you as well.

(Well, it’s really more of the latter than the former…)

However, it was also true that I wanted to be helpful to Victor as well.

Kate: Is there any work that I can help with, Victor?

Victor: Hmm…

William: Victor.

As Victor was thinking deeply, William’s cool voice sounded in the office.

William: You were the one who made Kate the Fairytale Keeper. William: Therefore, I believe it’s also your responsibility to do something about this. William: And don’t you think that having an assistant would benefit you too, as the queen’s aide?

At William’s words, Victor looked taken aback for a brief moment. And then he smiled as if in surrender.

Victor: You’ve got me there.

Kate: So…

Victor: Will you help me handle some of my work, Kate?

Kate: Yes!

A satisfied smile rose to William’s lips when I let out a louder-than-intended shout out of happiness.

William: Well, this is where I leave.

With light steps, he exited the office.

Victor: This may be quite sudden, but do you think we could split that stack of reports and work on them?

Kate: Definitely!

I took the sheaf of papers that Victor handed to me and found a desk to work from. As I sat down and got ready to work, I sensed that I was being stared at, and looked up. Sure enough, Victor’s crystal-like eyes were looking right at me.

Victor: Sorry, could I also ask you to take this?

Kate: Oh, sure.

As I reached out for the paper that Victor was handing over, for some reason, Victor pulled it back.

Kate: Victor?

His face as he let out a quiet laugh exuded allure and elegance.

Victor: I’m looking forward to working with you, Kate.

Captivated as I was, at that time I had no idea about the enormous secrets he was hiding. Nor about our predetermined fate.

#ikemen villains #victor (ikevil)#my translation

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deepfivetraveller · 8 months ago

Text

King Baldwin iv x Time!Traveller!reader

chapter 3

chapter 2 | chapter 4

As the carriage comes to a stop the guards of the castle help you come out, to which you were ost thankful for. This castle was a mere building for military defense so it didn't feel as luxurious as a palace. Nevertheless, that doesn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful.

The odd thing was no one in the castle treated you like a criminal. Every guard and maid on the way bowed to you in respect, confusing you to the core. “Uhm sir.” You call for the guard escorting you. “Why is everyone…doing that?” another maid walking across bows towards you. “Well madame you cured many of their relatives that’s why.” He comes to a stop.

“Your (h/c) hair, (e/c) eyes and (s/c) skin are distinguishing characteristics making you easily recognisable.” You gulp at his intense gaze. “And among the thankful people, I am one of them” He bows “Thank you for saving my niece.”

“O-Oh your welcome no need to mention it” an awkward aura surrounds the both. Well at least you have the support of the common folk. But this confirms that the nobles do not plan on doing the same. They always tend to walk on a league of their own.

The guard walked you through a verandah-like open area. The ivory walls were decorated with patterns of red triangle and blue squares, leaving your mouth agape the entire time, which clearly annoyed screen

‘How are you admiring walls when you’re clearly about to die!? You didn’t even panic during the carriage ride!’ Screen’s brightness fluctuated rapidly showing it’s anger. The guard moves slightly away. “A calm mind is essential to win a battle.” You cockily reply. “Besides the adrenaline is kinda keeping me in line. The common folk believe in me anyways!” It rolls it’s kaomoji eyes at your reply.

Truth to be told you did panic. During the carriage ride you squeezed your hand so hard, your nails pierced through the skin causing slight amounts of blood to be released. The wound dried up fine but the pain was still there.

“We’re here” He says. Two other guards are stationed near a door and they instantly bow at your arrival. “This is his majesty’s bed chamber. When you enter you ought to curtsy in front of him…I don’t know why your presence is required but nevertheless, best of luck.” The other two men nod at you in reassurance. You only have the time to take a deep breath until they open the door, so you did, hoping the oxygen would wake you up.

The two dragged open the heavy doors. The sunlight from the window momentarily blinded you, but the men wasted no time in gently dragging you forward. Around the bed three men were seated. You move a little forward and the guard announces your presence. “Your Majesty, I've brought madame Y/n.”

Your eyes immediately lock with the leaper king. His blue eyes are glow even if his eyelids were gnawed and decomposed like. Something about those eyes made you snap back into reality. As instructed you do a quick but deep curtsy. “Your majesty.”

King baldwin wasted no time and nods, signaling you to relax. He acted on instinct and didn’t even know the reason for why he nodded before seeing you again. The leper tried to hide the awkwardness by adjusting his silver mask, looking at the man who is not standing. He clears his throat “His majesty is very pleased with your efforts on curing the sick. He wishes to reward you.”

Wait what

The man claps and a servant comes in holding a tray with jewels, threatening to fall off due to the huge amount. You stare at the shine of them and hesitantly take the tray. “T-Thank you your majesty.” He nods again, still not looking at you.

Hands shake from the frenzy of the situation. Your breathing rate has significant changed from the calm demeanour of before. ‘Aren't they supposed to like, kill you?’ You think.

“You seem perplexed.” The one standing points out. “Why? Speak you mind” The other man reassures.

“I just thought…The crusaders……..” You clutched your skirt tightly, looking down in embarrassment.

The crusaders said nothing about you being a witch, it was you who assumed everything. When the king heard the you mentioning his men, he turned around immediately. “What did they do?”

“If i'm correct, there was a rumour circulating that your majesty would hang her for being a witch”

“Heavens no!” His pupils retract back in shock. “Why would i convict you of that, you saved the my people.” The blue eyes still linger on you and if you had looked up, you could see he was almost pouting.

“Apparently the crusaders weren’t the most kind to her either.” He replies again. The king is now definitely gobsmacked. “I am so sorry for that, it’s not their fault they’re trained for war so they don’t seem hospitable at a first glance.” While he rushes with the apology, you say "Okay" right away.

“We have called you here for another reason as well.” Baldwin looks at the man standing to explain further. The state of the room changes drastically. “You have cured a mass amount of people in the span of two months. This was something the kingdom has been trying to do for years.”

‘Years?? Seriously all I did was feed them oranges’

“And since you were able to do that… we figured you might be able to cure the king.”

‘Damm plot twist!’ Screen ate virtual popcorn as it saw the drama unfold.

You gaze shifted to the king, who refused to look up at anyone, gazing straightforward at the blanket he is covered in.

“Gentlemen… I’m not—”

“The pay is quite handsome”

“And we’ll grant you the status of a noble”

Okay, that was not—

The screen immediately duplicated itself, showcasing a quest.

‘Cure the Leper king (Main quest)’ The three men stare at you while the screen leaves you no choice, showing the options ‘|Yes| or |Yes|’

“Hah…Fine I’ll do it” You roll your eyes, annoyed at the circumstance.

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

Sorry for the late update! I had to rewrite the whole chapter since i didn't like the narrative it was going in. Also please make me aware of any typo, i just got a new keyboard and i didn't spellcheck anything 😚

#kingdom of heaven #the leper king #king baldwin x reader #the leaper king #king baldwin iv #king baldwin x you #baldwin iv x oc #baldwin iv x reader #baldwin of jerusalem #baldwin x reader

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antinousletmehit · 4 months ago

Text

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 17 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

⋆˚࿔ Book 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇aressss

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The heavy doors of the palace burst open as a breathless soldier stumbled inside, his face pale and slick with sweat. Raphael, reclining lazily on a cushioned chair with a goblet of wine in hand, barely spared him a glance. He was far more interested in admiring the deep red marks he had left on Y/n’s skin earlier that night. The sight of them brought him a twisted sense of satisfaction.

But when the soldier collapsed onto one knee before him, head bowed in urgency, Raphael’s grip on the goblet tightened. “My lord,” the soldier gasped, still catching his breath. “The men you sent—”

Raphael’s eyes finally flickered over to him, his once relaxed posture now tense. “Yes? What of them?” His voice was dangerously low.

The soldier hesitated, gulping.

“They’re dead.”

Silence.

The air in the chamber seemed to thicken. Raphael’s fingers twitched, his jaw clenching so tightly it could crack. The room felt smaller, the flickering torches casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. “All of them?” he finally asked, his voice eerily calm.

“Slaughtered.” The soldier refused to look up. “Not a single one returned, my lord.” Raphael’s heart pounded. He forced himself to breathe. No. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were meant to send a warning, not be wiped out like insects.

That meant—

He suddenly stood, sending the goblet crashing to the floor, wine splattering like blood across the marble. The sound echoed through the hall. The soldier flinched. Raphael didn’t waste another moment. He turned sharply on his heel and stormed down the halls, his steps echoing violently against the stone. Servants scrambled out of his way as he made his way toward his older brother’s chamber.

Endymion would not be pleased.

Raphael shoved the doors open without announcing himself, his chest still heaving. Endymion was seated near the fireplace, dressed in only a loose tunic, his thick black hair slightly damp from an earlier bath. He had a goblet in hand, though unlike Raphael, he seemed to be pacing himself, taking slow sips as if the world outside wasn’t on the verge of war. He barely looked up. “You’re making a lot of noise, brother.”

Raphael gritted his teeth and marched closer. “The men I sent—they’re dead.”Endymion exhaled through his nose as if he had expected this. He set the goblet down on the nearby table with deliberate slowness.

“And now you panic?” Endymion murmured, rubbing his temple.

“This isn’t a joke, Endymion!” Raphael snapped. “Telemachus and his crew are here! They’re picking us off like dogs, they’re coming!” Finally, Endymion stood, moving toward a large chest at the corner of the room. He opened it with a slow creak, reaching inside before pulling out something that glinted under the firelight.

A helmet.

Not just any helmet, a decorative one, carved with intricate details of goldeon laurels and obsidian lines running down the sides. It was meant to represent both royalty and war, a symbol of a warrior meant to lead armies. Endymion turned to face Raphael, holding it out with a groan.

“Then prepare for a real war, little brother.”

Raphael stared at the helmet, his heart still hammering in his chest. He slowly reached out, running his fingers over the cold metal. Endymion sighed, shaking his head. “You should have killed Telemachus the moment you took his wife. But no—you had to play with your food.” His blue eyes flickered over Raphael’s face with mild disdain. “And now, you’re dealing with the consequences.”

Raphael gripped the helmet tighter, his nails pressing into the metal. No. He wasn’t going to let that bastard take y/n back.

If war was what Telemachus wanted.

Then war was exactly what he would get.

——

The night air was thick with the scent of salt and damp earth as Antinous sat alone near the edge of the camp, sharpening his dagger with slow, methodical strokes. The others were sleeping, their bodies heavy with exhaustion, but he, he couldn’t sleep. Not with that voice still ringing in his head. It had been there in battle, deep and commanding, flooding his veins with rage, power. It wasn’t his own voice, he knew that much. And yet, it had felt… familiar.

He flexed his fingers, staring at his calloused hands. He should be worried. Should be unnerved. But instead, something in his gut itched—not with fear, but anticipation.

Then—a shift in the air.

Antinous froze. The wind had gone still. The usual sounds of the night, distant waves, rustling leaves, vanished. A presence loomed behind him, heavy and unmistakable. Without thinking, he moved. His instincts took over as he whirled around, fist flying toward whoever had dared to sneak up on him—

But it never landed.

A hand caught his punch mid-air.

Strong. Unyielding. Antinous’ breath hitched as his eyes met the figure standing before him. Tall. Broad shouldered. Cloaked in deep crimson. His skin was bronzed from war, his arms lined with scars, not from wounds, but from victories. His eyes, glowing like embers in a dying fire—bored into Antinous with a knowing smirk.

Ares.

Antinous felt his heartbeat slam against his ribs. He tried to yank his fist away, but Ares’ grip tightened just slightly—a silent reminder of his strength. “You’ve got a hell of a swing,” Ares mused, tilting his head. “But if you’re going to try and hit a god, boy, at least aim to kill.” Antinous barely heard him over the roar of his own pulse. Ares released his hand, stepping back just enough to observe him, eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

“You’ve felt it, haven’t you?” The god’s voice was smooth, dangerous. “That power, surging in your bones, guiding your blade.” He leaned in slightly, smirking. “My power.” Antinous swallowed hard, his grip tightening around his dagger. He wanted to deny it—to question it—but deep down, he already knew the truth. That voice in battle. That rage. That strength.

It had been Ares all along.

——

Antinous took a shaky breath, his fingers still curled tightly around his dagger. He should’ve been afraid. Should’ve felt something other than the burning fire still coursing through his veins. But instead, all he felt was that same thrumming anticipation clawing at his insides. His voice was steady when he finally spoke. “Why me?”

Ares’ smirk widened. “Why not you?”

Antinous clenched his jaw. “Don’t give me that divine cryptic shit, why have you been in my head? Why are you helping me?”

Ares let out a low chuckle, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Help? Is that what you think this is?” His gaze flicked over Antinous, sharp and assessing. “I don’t help mortals, boy. I favor the ones that earn it.”

He stepped forward, his presence alone enough to make the air feel heavier. “You—you’re all brute strength. Unrelenting force. A blade with no hesitation.” He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with something wild. “You’re my kind of soldier.” Antinous swallowed, his breath slow and controlled. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t back down. Ares noticed. And grinned.

“You remind me of the men in Troy.” The god’s voice dripped with amusement. “Ah, the Trojan War… Now that was a battle. Blood, chaos, glorious carnage. I had so much fun watching fools rip each other apart for the gods’ little game.”

Antinous furrowed his brows. “And now?”

Ares let out a sharp breath, pacing slightly. “Now, I sense the same game being played all over again.�� He gestured broadly to the sky. “The others are meddling, slinking around behind the scenes, shifting the tides of war for their own amusement. Just like before.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Pathetic.” Then, his gaze snapped back to Antinous, burning with excitement.

“But that just means more bloodshed. More war. And that—” He pointed at Antinous, his smirk growing feral, “that is why I’m here.” Antinous inhaled slowly. He should’ve felt used, like some pawn in a god’s game. But instead, he felt something else. That same hunger he’d felt in battle. That thrill.

Ares leaned in, voice dropping to something almost intimate. “Tell me, boy—” his grin widened, “don’t you want to see how far your strength can take you? Antinous stared at Ares, the war god’s grin widening as if he already knew the answer. And maybe he did. Maybe he had seen the fire burning in Antinous’s chest long before Antinous himself had realized it.

Strength. Power. Bloodshed.

Antinous had never cared for the gods’ games, but this—this was different. Ares wasn’t offering empty words or divine riddles. He was offering strength. And Antinous wanted it. He straightened his back, smirking. “Fine. Train me. Show me how to win this war.”

Ares let out a deep, satisfied laugh. “That’s what I like to hear.” He clapped a heavy hand on Antinous’s shoulder, his grip like iron. “But be warned, boy. My training is not for the weak-willed.”

Antinous scoffed. “Do I look weak to you?”

Ares grinned, but before he could respond—

“Antinous!”

A loud, annoyed voice cut through the night. Antinous turned just in time to see Eurymachus stomping toward him, arms crossed and looking thoroughly pissed off. “There you are, you bastard—what the hell are you doing out here?”

Antinous blinked. “I—”

“Don’t even start.” Eurymachus grabbed him by the arm, ignoring how much stronger Antinous was. “You disappear in the middle of the night, and now I find you talking to air like a lunatic? I swear, if I have to deal with one more—“

Ares just raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Hmph. You mortals get cranky so easily.”

Antinous sighed. “Eurymachus, let go.”

“No.” Eurymachus yanked him harder. “We’re going back to camp before you get yourself killed doing—whatever the hell this is.”

Antinous growled. “I’m training—”

“You’re sleeping.” Eurymachus shot back, already dragging him toward camp. “And if you even think about sneaking off again, I’ll personally throw you onto the front door of all of those Skiaphos soldiers.”

Ares just laughed as Antinous grumbled, letting himself be dragged off. “Try not to get too soft before training, boy,” the god called after him. “We start soon.” Antinous just smirked, already looking forward to it.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world @simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches

@sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl

@dazedemery @tsmaruchan

@holywizardprincess @galaxygurlll @pjopinkk

@h0ne4bee @minteaspoon @zendoesstuff

@yuvany @xo-cuteplosion-xo

#aphrodites gamble #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #antinous #telemachus #telemachus x reader #epic telemachus #epic antinous #antinous x reader

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krokusplays · 2 months ago

Text

A Rising Dawn - Chapter 5

Mydei x (female) Reader

Fic Rating: Mature (will change for a later chapter)

Chapter Length: 4.1k

Fic Status: Ongoing (5/8)

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Learning to Trust, Sweet, Wholesome, basically no angst, no use of y/n, smut in a later chapter, set before the events of 3.0

Author's Notes: I'm really glad that most figured out what mythological figure Reader is based on. If you didn't: Reader is based on Andromeda. I had the idea for Reader's backstory and given how Mydei's backstory was also inspired by Perseus's story it felt so fitting <3 That aside, this chapter contains a scene I enjoyed writing so much ;; I hope you'll like it <3

Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Summary: In the Holy City, daily life remained the same for the citizens despite the threat of the Black Tide lurking beyond the city's borders.

But sometimes, a brief encounter can bring about a new dawn for its residents. Chrysos Heirs and regular citizens alike.

Even more so when the Golden Thread has tied your fates together a long time ago.

The next few days and weeks were ridden with more playtime with the kids, more encounters at the store, more meetings to share food - often prepared by him - and more training sessions.

Mydei sparred with you, taught you more moves, and avoided touching you. He didn’t grab your wrists, didn’t hold you, didn’t physically adjust your stance… Though in the heat of battle - be it a sparring match far beneath his actual skill level - an entire lack of physical contact was rendered almost impossible.

It did not bother you.

When you brushed arms or shoulders, you didn’t flinch, when you stepped on his toes you winced because his feet were armored and that hurt but you didn’t retreat. Didn’t panic. Didn’t flee.

Whether these moments simply did not matter to you or if they became a result of you wanting to work on it, he didn’t know.

He did not pry.

It was not his business nor place to do so and yet, he deemed it a personal success for you. You met him in your matches more openly, with more confidence, a tad less hesitation to move - to act.

You were having fun.

And he found himself enjoying your encounters whenever he saw that soft smile on your lips that made your eyes shine and made his chest swell with a sense of warmth.

Maybe that’s why - after training - he was taking you to the small terrace overseeing the residential area of Okhema with Marmoreal Palace visible in the far distance. It was small. Hidden. Obscured by architectural structures that were built after the terrace's construction and demanded navigating through tiny alleys and old, partly crumbled stairs.

Nature has reclaimed this small place with time. Vines wound around the balustrade and up the walls of the buildings attached to the balcony, the shiny white colors of the stone have faded by now.

He liked it here. The peace and quiet. When he truly wanted no one to find and interrupt him.

And he found that your presence… did not disturb that.

Mydei crossed his arms in front of his chest as he watched how you walked to the balustrade and took in the view stretching out in front of you.

You lowered the basket you have brought with you to training to the ground without looking away from the sights, fascinated - awe-struck - with everything you were seeing.

Endearing.

You both basked in the serenity of it all. The subtle breeze, the faint sounds of leaves rustling in the wind, the clear blue sky. It calmed his pounding heart, the adrenaline still rushing through his veins after training…

You leaned on the balustrade, folding your arms on the smooth stone, as he joined you. He came to stand next to you, crossing his arms in front of his chest again and gazing upon the scenery unfolding before you.

His gaze fell onto you. You blended into the scenery like a painting adorning the walls of Marmoreal Palace. A soft smile on your face, brows a gentle curve, your dress swaying in the breeze…

You remained quiet as you observed and watched, your face calm. Relaxed. And for a while he found himself watching you rather than the view before him.

“You know,” you said without looking at him. Though he thought he caught an amused look cross your face for a moment. “This is kinda romantic.”

He suppressed the instinct to let out a “hmph”. Instead he averted his gaze and looked up ahead again, eyes catching a pair of birds flying together towards the horizon.

“There is no word for romance in the Kremnoan language.”

You looked at him then, a contemplative look in your eyes, though that soft smile didn’t fade away.

“Then, what would you call this?”

His eyes widened the slightest bit and his lips parted. You tilted your head as you undoubtedly caught the surprise - confusion - on his face. He looked away. His gaze unfocused.

Romance. A word he knew from the Romance titan but only a concept he was familiar with through tales and words on the streets.

Ptolemy often used to tell stories around the campfire. One of the books he’s brought with him after leaving Kremnos contained fairytales from distant lands. Laughter had filled the rusty air as he had laughed with his friends while Ptolemy read and Peucesta played a gentle tune to accompany him.

Those tales were fun. Amusing. Yet, nothing any of them ever took serious.

Not before he came to Okhema. And even then something he would acknowledge but not dare to think further about. Too afraid to come to realize all he has been missing and all the chances and opportunities that have passed him by on his long, arduous journey from Castrum Kremnos.

His thoughts turned back to Hephaestion. He remembered his laughter, how his scrawny figure shook when they all told jokes and found the tale particularly amusing, but he also recalled the red hue on his cheeks that was born neither from the warmth of the fire nor the honey brew.

Mydei remembered spending rare but cherished moments with him alone. By the side of the camp, when the fighting and traveling of the day has come to an end and when too much of the night still remained for him to ponder - worry - about the future of his people.

Hephaestion has been there. Always. Sought him out and found him when the thoughts became louder, when his determination threatened to waver, stood next to him in silence, basking in the scenery of the wilds. Serene. Peaceful. Happy.

He recalled how nice these moments have been back then. How his breath hitched when Hephaestion laughed, how in awe he has been when Mydei managed to prepare something special while in camp to eat, how one eye has always been on him in battle, even though that scrawny figure tore through enemies unlike any other Kremnoan warrior he’s known. He brought Mydei a sense of comfort he wasn’t familiar with, one he’s never gotten in any other circumstances.

Nothing has ever come close to these sensations. To being fine - comfortable - just basking in the presence of another person.

Only when he has reached Okhema, long after Hephaestion’s death, did he learn about the term romance and came to the realization that whatever it has been between him and Hephaestion was the closest to the concept he’s ever come to it.

It’s something he’s pushed into the furthest corner of his mind.

Mydei looked at you again.

And this? The here and now? Didn’t it feel exactly like those moments he’s shared with Hephaestion all these years ago? Familiar? Comfortable? Enjoying someone else’s company, wanting to preserve their smile…

Maybe it wasn’t the same.

But maybe it didn’t have to be.

Perhaps he was overthinking this.

“I don’t know,” he said finally as you were still waiting for an answer, looking up at him with a soft smile. Waiting. Anticipating.

If the answer was to your dissatisfaction - he couldn’t imagine it was anything but - you didn’t let it show.

Instead, you turned to him and took a step closer, your hand sliding over the stone of the balustrade while doing so. You came to stand in front of him. Close. Too close that you should be comfortable. He could touch you without his elbow leaving his side if he wanted.

Yet, he didn’t move away.

He looked down on you. You didn’t meet his gaze. There was an uncertainty in the way your gaze shifted around. Hesitation. Nervousness. Your eyes never found his but they also averted staying on the exposed parts of his chest.

Despite the confusion, his lips twitched upwards for a short moment. How amusing.

He caught the trembling of your hand as you raised it and his breath hitched in his throat for a moment when your fingers found the red fabric attached to his shoulder armor and held together by the belt around his waist.

You didn’t hold it. More cradled it. Let it slide over your open palm as if feeling the material, mesmerized by the texture. Your fingers moved with a gentleness that caught him off guard.

Yet, it was so expected from you.

And it made him realize if your hand brushed his skin, you would be able to feel the way his heart began to pound just a bit harder in his chest.

Your hands stopped trembling. Still, your movements were slow. Cautious. As if testing the waters. To see his reaction or to figure out your own level of comfort with the gesture, he didn’t know.

He remained unmoving in place and let you figure out whatever you were trying to get from him in that instant.

And he didn’t mind.

You have never deliberately initiated contact with him before. Not even when he pushed you to your limits during a sparring match - when the adrenaline pumped through your veins enough to cloud your mind.

And something about the way you moved your hand and observed the gesture with your own eyes with a softness no one has ever confronted him with, stirred something deep within him.

“I think I would like to know,” you said, your voice quiet and you swallowed. To hide your nervousness. To push back your hesitation. “What you would call this one day.”

And before he could reply - even think of a reply - you took a deep breath and stepped forwards.

Within a moment - no longer than a heartbeat - your arms came up and wrapped around his body.

Mydei froze.

Out of instinct his hands came up. To defend against an attack. To push the threat away. But, you were not the enemy. You meant no harm. So his hands hovered in the air. Awkward. Uncertain.

His mind struggled, fought against the sensations pushing down on him at this strange gesture. Unfamiliar. Confusing.

And Mydei was lost. He didn’t know what to do.

He knew what an embrace was. Yet the only times he ever came close to it was when enemies threw themselves at him in the midst of battle or when his friends threw an arm around his shoulders to celebrate their victory.

Never had another person sought his body - his proximity - for the sake of being close to him.

Never.

This body only knew death and the pain of rebirth, the marks of his curse visible for everyone to see.

And yet, you pushed yourself closer to him - you, who had every reason to avoid such contact - and relaxed against him.

Slowly - a hesitation in his movements that was so unlike him - his arms came around your shoulders. He told himself his inhibition came from the intention of giving you time to stop him, to escape the gesture, but deep down he knew he used it as an excuse to cover his own uncertainty.

He was the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos, a warrior of Okhema after all.

These arms could crush stone, tear through enemies like paper, and you were alright with them being around your body. You wanted them there. Holding you. Cradling you.

He wondered what they could bring you.

Comfort? Did it make you feel at ease? Safe?

He didn’t ask it out loud.

Your body felt warm against his.

A warmth that seeped through his skin and slowly engulfed every part of him until it made him feel lightheaded. Like a breeze that swept away all the nagging thoughts. Doubts. Worries. All irrelevant. Pushed back into the back of his soul that could not reach him in this moment.

This felt nice. Calming. Soothing.

The itch in his veins, the urge and yearning for battle running through his veins, railed in. Quiet.

And Mydei tightened his hold just a bit more. Held you closer, encouraged you to let yourself fall into him the very same way he was - albeit so very slowly.

You did.

There was a trembling in your form when his hold tightened but it faded away quickly. And when it did, he could feel how the tension left your shoulders but whether the quiet sigh he heard came from you or was a trick of the wind, he couldn’t tell.

When you - gently, slowly - pulled back from him, he lowered his hands without hesitation. To give you space. To move at your own pace.

Yet, the cold invading his body when the warmth of your body left his, almost made him chase the contact. Without thinking. Instinctual.

The realization left him puzzled. Bewildered at his own… neediness.

And yet, he didn’t find it in him to fight against it.

He was… comfortable.

You smiled, more to yourself than at him, your gaze turned to the ground as you put a little bit of distance between the two of you. He wondered what that expression was.

Joy? Relief? Pride?

Silence settled upon the both of you again. He did not know what to say and you were thinking - contemplating - and he didn’t ask. Didn’t pry. Yet, your slackened shoulders, the smile on your lips…

He did not think you were uncomfortable. And something within his chest stirred at the realization.

After everything, you initiated that contact - albeit slowly and with hesitation - and you looked like you enjoyed it. Felt comfortable with it.

You opened your mouth as if to say something but nothing came out. Neither did he know what to say now. His mind was racing, occupied by thoughts that have been quietened while you’ve been in his arms.

What did any of this mean?

Where would you go from here?

You took a deep breath. He found it fascinating that your smile never left. How peaceful you looked.

“I think,” you started, “we both have something to think about.” You chuckled with a finger on your chin.

He couldn’t disagree.

“I’ll… see you later,” you said, a soft smile on your lips and yet, you shied away from his gaze. Though the faint red hue on your cheeks let him know more than you probably wanted him to know. He didn’t push it.

This situation was as unusual for the both of you as it was new.

He let you go, watched you as your form left the balcony and vanished down the old, worn down stairs before he turned his eyes toward the sky. He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

What was he supposed to do now?

Never let his fellow Kremnoans know about this probably. The thought was tinged with amusement but it did hold a sense of truth. Such sentiments were not befitting a Kremnoan warrior, much less the successor of Kremnos.

Warmth and comfort. Not something one could find on the battlefield.

And still…

You have become a constant in his life over the past weeks already. One that gave him a sense of normality and peace. Playing with the children, encountering you when he purchased his pomegranates, training you, sharing a meal, you’ve been in his home before…

Instances of a normal life that hasn’t been granted to him before.

A sense of normality and peace that he didn’t mind.

He ignored the somber thought in the back of his mind that - in the face of the Flame-Chase journey - he had no idea how long he could make it last.

But he didn’t find it in him to oppose the idea of enjoying whatever this was between you.

And, did a mere embrace really bring such a big change to the both of you that it required him to rethink his place and fate in this city?

———————

The feel of Mydei’s body against your own lingered long after you have left.

Warm skin, a thumping - quick - heartbeat beneath your ear, strong arms around your shoulders…

You had acted on a whim. A feeling. And your heartbeat had threatened to burst out of your chest as you moved but… the tension, the hesitation - the anxiety - have been worth it because the feeling of safety that had followed was still clouding your mind now.

Maybe you shouldn’t have left so abruptly. And instead enjoyed the moment a while longer, basked in the scenery and that feeling blossoming in your chest.

But… you felt like he needed some time alone.

Perhaps you did as well.

Some time ago he had grabbed your wrist and the result was a flash of panic. And today…

You’ve tried. You’ve really tried to work on it. Allowing him to brush your shoulder during sparring, letting the metal of his gauntlet touch your hand when you handed him something. A fight against your instincts but whenever touch happened… it was fine.

Only with him, however.

At the store, a customer had brushed your hand when you handed them their bag - and you let it happen just to see if maybe… - but it was nothing like when it happened with Mydei. The cold sweat had felt dreadful, the hammering pulse uncomfortable, the instinct to recoil overwhelming…

Why wasn’t it like this with Mydei?

Because you trusted him? Have been through so much trial and error with him that you knew what to expect when being around him?

Or simply because you… liked him?

Your racing heart and lightheaded - pleasant - feeling occupying your mind should be more than an answer.

You’ve thought about… them when you approached Mydei. The way they treated you like less than an animal. But when his arms came around you… It all went away. And you knew that nothing could reach you here.

Not while you were in his arms.

He wouldn’t let it happen. Ever.

Yet, how to go from here?

And how did he think and feel about it? You noticed his surprise - shock - but… was it because he knew your story? Or because of the gesture itself?

You couldn’t imagine that gestures - affection - like this were common for Kremnoans.

He did reciprocate it though.

Regardless…

This hug has been the nicest thing that has happened to you in so long, how could you ignore that and pretend you didn’t want to experience it again?

Yes, perhaps you needed a moment to think as well.

———————

Mydei might imagine it. But ever since that day on the balcony, it seemed to him you didn’t even try to keep from engaging in any type of physical contact with him.

Maybe since that embrace he’s gotten more perceptive and aware of it, but you never pulled back during sparring sessions, willingly risking him brushing against you, your hands brushed - metal against skin - when you handed him a bottle of pomegranate juice or when you took the payment for his fruits…

Never something he particularly paid attention to before but now that he noticed, he couldn’t ignore it either.

Mydei looked after the kids as they left, running and laughing, as lively as before they came here. Nothing truly rivaled the energy of a kid. They have been on their feet, playing and practicing this entire time and a sense of fatigue was nowhere to be seen.

His gaze turned to you as you put back the bowls and small boxes into your basket. The fruits you’ve brought all gone. The kids didn’t leave a single slice. Good. At least they ate healthy. Also good that the effort you constantly went through to prepare it for all of them didn’t go to waste.

When did he start to consider that?

Mydei took the final sip from his bottle of pomegranate juice. Always a delight. Though one day he had to introduce you to the idea of adding milk to it.

He handed you the bottle again, noticed how the tips of his armored fingers met your skin - soft but the metal did not convey any sense of warmth - and saw how your eyes jumped to the contact but you didn’t say anything. And despite the flinch - instinctive and involuntary - you didn’t pull back.

He noticed how you stared at his hand. Contemplating. The gears in your head turning. But whatever you thought about, you didn’t voice it.

As he let go of the bottle and turned around to store away the training weapons the kids have left behind, your voice sounded behind him.

“Wait, Mydei… please.”

He turned around again, looked at you. You hesitated, looked away for a moment, before you took a small step towards him.

“Can you show me your hand?”

He furrowed his brows but curiosity and silent wonder remained in his gaze nonetheless. He obliged and held out his hand, palm pointing upwards. And waited.

You didn’t meet his gaze. Your eyes locked on his hand with a focus that seemed to drown out anything else. How odd.

You swallowed but reached up and took a hold of his hand. You didn’t grab it but cupped it. Cradled it in your hands with a grip so light, he barely noticed any pressure.

He let you prevail. Let you explore and satisfy that curiosity. Or were you trying to figure something out? How focused you were. What were you thinking about? What did this touch give you? This was not a hug. You were exploring his hand as if it was something unfamiliar, something new.

Maybe it was.

One of your hands began to trace his fingers. Your fingers slid along the metal, followed the black material, but when your other hand curled around his fingers to reveal his palm more to you, he noticed how your hand trembled.

And the realization hit him that your aversion to physical contact has been so much stronger or severe when it was about hands.

Your initial reaction at the store happened because the threat of your hands brushing had loomed over you. The panic and instinct to flee came about because his hand grabbed your wrist…

His brows furrowed.

Maybe you were realizing it just as he was in that moment. And perhaps this was what all this was about.

Mydei intended to pull his hand away. No need to put you through this when it was obviously a struggle.

But when he slowly retreated his hand, your fingers clasped around it with a pressure that made it abundantly clear that you didn’t want him to leave. Mydei frowned.

Your hands were trembling. Your movements hesitant. And yet, you raised his hand to your face.

And made him cup your cheek.

Mydei’s mouth opened but words evaded him. What were you doing? And as if his fingers could communicate his surprise, they remained stiff. Hesitant.

“Why?” he dared to ask.

“Because,” you said and closed your eyes but kept his hand in place with your own. “I wanna know that hands are… capable of more.”

His eyes widened at that. Caught off guard. He didn’t know what to say. But he thought back to what you’ve told him.

Hands had dragged you away, hands had treated you like an object meant to be sacrificed, hands had chained you to that rock…

Memories that haunted you to this day. None of them pleasant.

And he… he could relate to that. For when did he ever feel the gentleness and warmth of someone’s hand? His first ever memory that he could recall was fighting. It had ruled his entire life since then. He has fought, crushed enemies - of flesh and stone alike - while people in Okhema did not even offer him their hand in greeting…

Did he know that hands are capable of more than violence?

He looked at you again. How your so much smaller hands held his armored hand against your cheek, your eyes closed, the barest hint of a smile on your lips, the trembling of your hand ceasing as you leaned into it.

No one has ever cradled your head before with the intention of making you feel nice. Safe.

Neither has he ever used his hands to provide such comfort. Such reassurance.

Like that embrace. Just that this was different. It seemed… deeper than that. Though he did not find the words to explain the turmoil in his own soul at the realization.

Unfamiliar. But not unpleasant.

His hand so subtly curled around your cheek.

He did not know what to say, but he could follow your lead and give you that moment that you craved from him.

And all he could think about - as you stood there leaning into the gesture as peaceful and relaxed as you could be - was the wonder how soft and warm your skin must be beneath the metal and fabric.

#hsr #honkai star rail #mydei #mydei x reader #mydei x you #hsr mydei #my fic

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h4nj1sunggg · 6 months ago

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𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 ( l. minho x h. jisung ) - 00.

chapter 00. words: 2.1k

The crisp mountain air lingered faintly on your clothes as you dragged the last suitcase down the dimly lit hallway. This was it: your new home. For the first time in your twenty one years, you were moving out of your quiet village into a place that could hold something exciting, something life-changing—or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Come on, push harder! This thing won’t fit,” your best friend, Y/bsf/n, grumbled as she struggled to shove a box through the narrow doorway.

“Stay calm! Look, tilt it a little like this,” you replied, shifting the box slightly until it finally slid into your new apartment with a satisfying thud. The two of you paused, leaning against the doorframe, breathless and laughing.

The hallway was comically small, just two doors facing each other, with scuffed beige walls that seemed to have seen their fair share of new tenants. Your apartment was modest—two bedrooms, a cool bathroom, a walk in kitchen, and a living area that barely fit the second-hand couch you’d brought. But it was yours, and that was enough for now. You glanced at Y/bsf/n, whose usual cheeky grin was stretched wide across her face.

“What are you staring at? It’s not a palace, but you’ll see…” she teased, tossing her hair back dramatically.

You rolled your eyes. “I was just thinking… we’re really here. It feels weird, doesn’t it?”

She shrugged. “Weird is our trademark. Now get in there and start unpacking!”

As you hauled the last bag inside, the door across the hallway creaked open just a crack, and a pair of tired brown eyes peeked out. Han Jisung leaned against the doorframe, his fluffy brown hair sticking out in every direction, still wearing the oversized hoodie he’d thrown on after practice. It had been a grueling night for him and his bandmates, working on choreography for their upcoming concert. He hadn’t expected to be woken up early by the sound of doors slamming and muffled voices in a language he didn’t recognize.

“What the…” he muttered, running a hand through his hair and squinting at the noise coming from your side of the hallway. He could hear two voices, animated and cheerful despite the ungodly hour.

“...Can you believe we found a place this cheap?” your best friend’s voice rang out, pulling a groggy sigh from Jisung’s lips.

“Cheap? More like a shoebox with a door,” you shot back, grinning as Y/bsf/n shoved you playfully.

“Hey!” Jisung’s voice cracked slightly as he called out, stepping fully into the hallway. He hadn’t meant to sound so sharp, but sleep deprivation had robbed him of his usual charm. You and Y/bsf/n froze mid-motion, turning toward the sound. For a moment, no one said anything.

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes landed on him. It took a second for your brain to catch up. Han Jisung. Standing there in front of you. Your mind scrambled to piece together the surreal image: messy hair, hoodie, unmistakably tired but still undeniably him. Your chest tightened, a strange mixture of panic and disbelief flooding through you.

“…What did he say?” Y/bsf/n whispered in your ear, clearly just as confused as you were.

“Uh…” you stammered, fumbling for words, and then switched to English. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to be loud.”

Jisung’s irritation softened slightly when he noticed the genuine apology in your voice. He looked between you and Y/bsf/n, who was still watching him with wide eyes.

“It’s okay,” he replied, his voice softer this time. “I just… had a long night. Didn’t mean to snap.”

“Oh, um… sorry again. We just moved in,” you explained, your accent making the words lilting and soft. Y/bsf/n elbowed you gently, mouthing something you didn’t catch. You ignored her, your focus entirely on Jisung.

“You’re… new neighbors?” he asked, gesturing vaguely toward your door.

You nodded quickly. “Yes, we are.”

He gave a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well… welcome, I guess. Sorry about the hallway. It’s kind of small.”

“Yeah, it’s… cozy,” you replied, mentally cringing at your choice of words.

Before the conversation could stretch into an awkward silence, a second figure appeared behind Jisung. Minho—Lee Minho, you realized, your heart doing another uncomfortable somersault—peeked out, resting his chin on Jisung’s shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Minho asked, his voice still heavy with sleep. His eyes flickered toward you and Y/bsf/n, and then back to Jisung.

“New neighbors,” Jisung murmured.

Minho’s gaze lingered on you for a second longer than was comfortable before he offered a polite nod. “Welcome,” he said simply, before retreating back into their apartment.

“Sorry again about the noise,” you said quickly, your cheeks burning as Jisung followed Minho back inside, the door clicking shut behind them. For a long moment, the hallway was silent.

“So… that was Han Jisung?” Y/bsf/n asked finally, breaking the tension. Her tone was casual, but you could see the glint of mischief in her eyes.

“Yes,” you muttered, dragging your suitcase the rest of the way into the apartment. “and lee minho.”

The door closed behind you with a faint creak, and you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Y/bsf/n immediately flopped onto the couch, stretching out dramatically and tossing her arm over her face.

“Okay, let’s be real—what just happened?” she asked, her voice muffled by the cushion. “That was Han Jisung, right? Like, the Han Jisung?”

You sank onto the armrest of the couch, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. “Yes. It was him. And Minho. They live across the hall.”

Y/bsf/n shot upright, her eyes wide. “They live here? Oh my God, you’re going to see him every day. You’re going to—”

“Stop,” you interrupted, burying your face in your hands. “Don’t make it a big deal. He’s just a person. A really famous, really talented person… who now probably thinks we’re the most annoying neighbors ever.”

Y/bsf/n smirked, leaning forward to poke your arm. “Oh, please. You were polite, and honestly, you didn’t even fangirl. I’m proud of you.”

You groaned, standing up to unpack the nearest box. “I’m not going to fangirl over my neighbor. That’s embarrassing.”

She hummed thoughtfully, watching you dig through the box. “You say that now, but what about when you bump into him again? Or when you hear him singing through the walls? Or—”

“Can we focus on unpacking?” you cut her off, pulling out a stack of plates and heading toward the kitchen. “I need to set up the kitchen so we can eat something later. And you can unpack your room instead of sitting there and teasing me.”

“Fine,” she sighed dramatically, standing up and grabbing her own suitcase. “But mark my words, this is going to be fun to watch.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. The two of you spent the next hour unpacking in relative silence, save for the occasional clatter of dishes or a laugh as you discovered yet another random item Y/bsf/n had insisted on bringing. Your tiny kitchen slowly came to life, each cabinet filling with mismatched plates, glasses, and the essentials you’d brought from home.

Y/bsf/n poked her head into the kitchen after finishing her room, holding up a framed photo of the two of you. “Where should this go?”

You smiled, wiping your hands on a dish towel. “Living room, maybe? It’ll make the place feel cozier.”

She nodded and placed it on the small table by the couch. As she stepped back to admire it, she glanced toward the door. “Do you think they’re talking about us?”

You followed her gaze, a strange fluttering in your chest at the thought. “Probably not. They’re probably too busy… being them.” or doing each other. either way it sounds pretty hot for your fantasies, unfortunately. Your hands busy to clean up the next bowl that your mother overpacked for you and your bubbly friend.

Y/bsf/n laughed, plopping onto the couch again. “I bet they’re not even thinking about us. But still, this is going to be interesting. Us, living next to literal celebrities. You couldn’t write this stuff.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Yeah, well, let’s just try not to get evicted for being loud on our first day.” You stepped into the kitchen, the golden afternoon sunlight filtering through the window, casting a soft glow across the warm, rustic space. It was your favorite corner of the house—a place where nostalgia and comfort intertwined. Cream-colored cabinets lined the walls, their vintage charm complemented by wooden countertops that seemed to tell stories of meals shared and laughter exchanged. A farmhouse sink sat proudly under the window, its porcelain surface still damp from the morning's dishes. The black faucet arched elegantly, its modern touch contrasting gently with the room's aged character. You can already imagined the shared moments with y/bsf/n there.

You eyes drifted to the open wooden shelves above, lined with glass jars of spices, mugs of mismatched shapes, and a small framed photograph that leaned casually against the wall. A tall snake plant stretched toward the ceiling, its green leaves reaching like a quiet companion observing the day unfold. Hanging from the ceiling, a row of exposed bulbs dangled like little suns, suspended from a wooden beam—an industrial touch softened by the room's cozy spirit.

You ran your hand across the kitchen island as you passed, where a lemon sat next to a vase of dried flowers—simple things, yet they made the room feel alive. The faint scent of wood and herbs lingered in the air as you paused to look at the framed landscape painting above. It had belonged to your grandmother, a woman whose kitchen always smelled of bread and fresh herbs. Here, surrounded by plants that grew freely and cutting boards stacked like art, you could still feel your grandmother’s spirit—warm, gentle, and forever a part of this place.

She threw a pillow at you, and the two of you dissolved into laughter, the tension of the morning finally giving way to the comfort of being with your best friend in your new home. As you folded up the last of the empty boxes, your mind wandered back to the hallway. You couldn’t help but imagine what Jisung and Minho were doing just on the other side of the wall. Were they still talking about you and Y/bsf/n? Or had they already moved on with their day? Maybe Jisung was sprawled out on a couch, headphones on, nodding his head to a beat only he could hear. You pictured Minho beside him, scrolling through his phone or teasing Jisung for something small—maybe for the hoodie that still looked two sizes too big. The image was so vivid, you could almost hear the soft hum of their voices blending with the faint music playing in the background.

“They probably don’t even remember us,” you muttered to yourself, trying to shake the thought away.

“What?” Y/bsf/n called from her room, clearly having overheard.

“Nothing!” you replied quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up.

But even as you busied yourself with organizing the last few items, the thought of Jisung’s soft smile and Minho’s steady presence lingered in the back of your mind, tugging at your curiosity. Later, you curled up on the beige sofa in the living room, cradling a cup of tea as the last rays of sunlight painted golden streaks on the walls. The room was quiet, filled only with the faint hum of the outside world and the ticking of a clock. Across the room, the light wood floor glowed softly, its surface interrupted only by a cream shag rug that stretched beneath the coffee table. The table—round and woven from rattan—held a small vase of fresh flowers y/bsf/n had brought over that afternoon after a short walk to get some fresh air. They were a mix of pinks and whites, a burst of life amidst the neutral palette.

You leaned back against the plush cushions of the L-shaped sofa, her eyes drifting up to the three framed prints above. They were minimal, depicting architectural scenes in faded sepia tones. Your mind wandered as you traced their outlines, imagining the stories hidden within those buildings. Above you, a rattan pendant light hung like a lantern, its glow gentle and familiar when night finally came.

To your right, sheer curtains swayed softly in the breeze, framing the large window that overlooked the garden. A tall, leafy plant sat in the corner—its green leaves bathed in sunlight. Another stood by the TV console, where the television lay silent, surrounded by carefully chosen decorations: a framed photo, a small stack of books, and yet another potted plant.

You smiled faintly, pulling your legs beneath you as you tucked the blanket closer. This room was simple, yet every element—from the plants to the wooden furniture—whispered calmness. It felt like a space suspended in time, where every corner, every ray of light, and every carefully chosen detail told a story.

ᯓᡣ𐭩　 ( masterlist ) . ᯓᡣ𐭩　 ( masterlist roommates ) .

taglist ! @estella-novella

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doffys-favourite-slut · 9 months ago

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Doflamingo x Defiant!Reader Smut Ch. 1

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

Hello, friends! Welcome to my new Doffy fanfic! This story takes a bit of a different direction from my last fanfiction. Instead of being subordinate, you are resistant and defiant towards Doffy. Reader is AFAB. Second person POV for this story! Doflamingo is very assertive and holds true to his personality (the cocky asshole we all love). A lot of fanfics I've read don't really tap into his true personality and make him incredibly out of character or in an alternate universe type thing where he falls for the reader, so I'm here to write about Doffy and what he would realistically do in the situations I've put him in. Reader is assumed to be the same age as myself (26), but age is never mentioned.

☣️WARNINGS: NONCON/RAPE, NSFW, MDNI, smut, assault, sexual assault

Themes in this chapter: NONCON/RAPE, Aggressive domination, forced submission, forced creampie, breeding, inflation, mild BDSM, degradation

Notes: PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT THERE IS NONCON/RAPE THROUGHOUT THIS ENTIRE FANFICTION. THIS FANFICTION IS VERY GRAPHIC AND MAY BE TRIGGERING, UPSETTING, OR DISTRESSING TO SOME READERS. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!!

P.S. I'm sorry if I forgot to change any pronouns/names/etc. ;-; I did my best, okay.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

[Chapter 1]

You had a few errands to run today. You threw on your favourite dress, grabbed your bag, and headed out the door. Dressrosa was a very lovely place, and you enjoyed living there. Your mom brought you guys here a few years ago, and you moved out on your own only last year. You checked your list of things you needed to do for the day: get groceries, get pet food, and check out the new local game store. You began walking to the fresh produce stands in downtown Dressrosa when you felt something like a pinch on the back of your neck, like a mosquito had bit you or something. You brought your hand up to where you felt the pinch to swat away the mosquito, when your body suddenly started moving on its own. You began heading towards the flower hill where the palace is. You tried resisting your body's involuntary movements, panicking, but no matter how much you tried resisting, your body continued forwards towards the castle. "What the fuck is happening?! Why can't I control my body?!" You thought to yourself, your anxiety rising.

From the shadows, Doflamingo had been watching you, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He had been watching you for a while, and decided you were the perfect victim. He headed back towards his castle, stringing you along. He stopped at the entrance of his palace overlooking the flower hill as you forcefully approached him.

"Fufufufu~ my, my aren't you just lovely?" Doflamingo flashed his signature smile with his devious laugh, turning around to face you.

You fight the parasite strings Doflamingo had embedded in you, attempting to run away. "What the fuck is going on?! What am I doing here?!" There was a lace of panic in your voice.

"Oh, don't be so jumpy, my dear. I simply find you irresistible, and I want to claim you as mine." Doflamingo casually stated as he watched you struggle.

"Your (h/c) hair, that shade of (e/c) in your eyes, the freckles decorating your skin [a/n: sorry if you don't have freckles ;-;], and that perfect body... You're the most attractive woman I've ever laid my eyes on."

He approached you, making sure to be close enough for you to feel his presence, but not so close that you could feel his breath on your face.

"I have this feeling that you'll make a delightful addition to my collection. So, I'm afraid you'll have to come with me." Doflamingo's smirk deepened, and he gave the strings a light tug, causing you to stumble a bit. "I'm just dying to see if my intuition was right... You're going to be my little project, my most precious and prized possession."

You scowled at Doflamingo as you're brought inside the palace against your will. "Project?! Possession?!"

"That's right, my dear. I can sense your resistance, and that only turns me on more. I want to see you squirm under my control." Doflamingo's grin never faltered as he continued to lead you into his palace. "Now, don't make this more difficult than it needs to be. You're already mine, and I shall have my way with you." He chuckled, throwing a glance back at you from time to time, making sure to bask in the sight of your struggle.

You struggled to keep up with Doflamingo and his impressive 10 foot tall stature. You had to practically run to keep up with him. "Like hell I would let you do that shit to me!"

"You're perfect for the role I have in mind, and I'll be sure to reward you for your cooperation." Doflamingo pulled the strings with more force, forcing you to move faster, showing no mercy in dragging you to your new home.

"I'm not doing shit. Fuck you," you spat at Doflamingo, slightly panting from the running.

"Oh, how delightful. You're such a lively specimen, and I can't wait to see what you're truly capable of. You'll be my pet, my little plaything, and I'll make sure to see every single inch of you. You'll come to enjoy it, I assure you. The humiliation, the pain, and the pleasure will all be yours. I'll break you down and build you back up into the perfect host for my offspring." Doflamingo's eyes gleamed with excitement, his voice dripping with malice and lust as he spoke. "And when that day comes, you'll thank me for choosing you."

Doflamingo's words metaphorically made you stop in your tracks, since you had no control over your body. You tried digging your heels in the ground to slow your movements down. Your face was filled with anger and disgust as he spoke. "What the fuck?!" He was treating you like a fucking object.

"Ah, such a feisty one. I'm going to enjoy breaking your spirit and making you mine." Doflamingo manipulated your parasite string, yanking you off your feet and continuing to walk with you dangling in the air. "I've made up my mind, and I'll have what I want. You'll be my precious little project, my own personal pleasure, and I'll mold you into the woman I desire." Doflamingo's smirk never faltered as he continued his stroll through the palace, dragging you behind him. "Your opinion on the matter is irrelevant."

You scoffed at his remarks and scowled at him as you're brought to his personal room, being drug through the air via his strings.

"Here we are, my dear. Your new home." Doflamingo stopped in front of a grand, ornate door, opening it to reveal a lavish room filled with all the luxuries one could imagine. "You'll be pampered, cherished, and cared for like a queen. Of course, I'll have to break you first, but that's just a small price to pay for such bliss, isn't it?"

He dragged you inside, the strings making sure you were right where he wanted you to be. Once you were in the center of the room, he released the strings, letting you fall to the ground with a thud. You stood up, adjusting your dress.

"Now, let's see how you can be shaped into my perfect little prize." Doflamingo's eyes gleamed, and he began to formulate his plans for your transformation. "As I said, I'll reward your cooperation, and I expect you to be a good girl for me. You wouldn't want to disappoint me, would you?"

You crossed your arms across your chest, continuing to scowl at him. "Yeah, that's not going to happen," you said with slight annoyance and anger in your voice.

"You're going to make this so much fun." Doflamingo's lips curled into a wicked smile as he approached you, his eyes filled with a predatory gleam. "I'll break you, and I'll make you mine. You'll come to see that there's no escape. I am your new master, and you are my new pet. Now, don't make me regret this decision by being a naughty little thing. Cooperate, and I'll give you everything you could ever want."

He stood above you, his hand reaching down for your arm as he prepared to lead you to your first lesson in submission.

You smacked his arm away "Don't fucking touch me!" You glared at him. This only prompted him to be more aggressive with you.

"Ah, you're even more perfect than I imagined." Doflamingo's eyes roamed over your body as he deftly removed your clothes. He admired your body, his eyes lingering on your breasts, your curvy hips, and your round ass, before he finally let his hands explore your skin. "I can't wait to see how you'll look with my child growing inside you, bearing my legacy in the world." Doflamingo's voice had a lustful edge to it as he continued to undress you, leaving you completely exposed before him. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as his hot breath sent shivers down your spine. "We're going to have so much fun."

"STOP... FUCKING... TOUCHING ME!!" you snapped at him, getting angrier by the second. Your anger and defiance continued to only add fuel to the fire.

"Oh, you naïve little slut. You're mine, and I'll do whatever the fuck I want with you. You don't have a say in any of this, so you better get used to it." He pushed you against the wall, pinning you down with his body.

"Now, you listen to me, you miserable cunt. I'm going to turn you into the perfect little breeding bitch. You'll carry my children and worship the ground I walk on." He leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispered in your ear. "And if you don't comply, I'll make you regret the day I took pity on you."

Doflamingo's hand traveled down your body, cupping your breast roughly as he squeezed it, and then moved lower, rubbing your clit. He then thrust a finger into your cunt, still teasing your clit, his other hand holding you in place against the wall. "Now, are we clear on this?" His voice was a dangerous mix of desire and threat, his finger continuing to tease you, the other hand gripping your arm tightly, leaving red marks as he held you.

You winced and panted at Doflamingo's sudden aggression. You looked into your reflection in his sunglasses, and what you saw was yourself glaring at him. "Doflamingo... fucking... STOP." You brought your leg and foot up, placing it on his arm as you attempted to push his hand away from your pussy, kicking at his arm.

"Oh, did you just defy me, you little bitch?" Doflamingo's grip tightened on your arm in response, causing you to yelp in pain. "Now, you listen to me. You don't get to make any decisions here. I decide what happens to you, and you will follow my orders. If you keep pushing me, I'll show you what happens to disobedient slaves." Doflamingo's breathing became heavier, and his touch more insistent, ignoring your attempts to push him away.

"Slave?! I'm not your fucking slave! Stop doing this to me!" Rage was building inside you as he continued to violate your body against your will.

"You're my property, my little breeding bitch. I'll do with you what I please, and you'll submit to my every whim." He continued to tease you, his other hand not letting up on your arm, disregarding your kicks. "You're mine, and I'll break you until you understand your place. You'll learn to love me, to crave my touch, and to worship the ground I walk on."

His grip on your arm left bruises as he maneuvered you to the bed, pushing you down before positioning himself between your legs. "Now, you'll listen to me, and you'll accept your fate as my property. You're mine, and you'll do as you're told." Doflamingo's voice was laced with a mix of desire and menace. "Now, are we clear on this?" His grip on your arm didn't loosen, and his finger returned to your pussy. "You're mine now, and you'll serve me to the best of your ability. I will not accept anything less."

Your feet now pressed into his elbow dips in attempt to push him away from the assault he's doing to your body. "Eat shit! I'm not doing anything for you!" Your voice was seething with rage and anger now.

"You really are a stubborn one, aren't you?" Doflamingo let out a sigh. "Fine, if that's how it's going to be." He removed his finger from you, standing up, and then undoing the strings on his pink tiger striped pants. "I'll show you what it's like to be mine, whether you like it or not."

Doflamingo's cock was hard and ready as he moved forward, his eyes locked on yours as he guided it to your entrance. It was much, much bigger than any other cock you've seen "Brace yourself, my dear. This is only the beginning." He began to push inside you.

"GET OFF OF ME!!" Tears began forming in your eyes as you struggled against his advances, trying to push yourself away from him and to get him to not fuck you. "DO NOT PUT THAT INSIDE ME!!" You began panicking as his cock began to stretch your pussy impossibly wide, causing it to tear and bleed.

"Ah, so feisty. I like that." Doflamingo griped your legs as he forced them apart, tying them down with his devil fruit strings. "You feel so tight, so good. I knew I made the right choice in picking you." He thrust deeper into you, a groan escaping his lips. "Your cunt is unlike any other I've had before. It's perfect." Doflamingo's voice was laced with lust as he began to move faster. "I'm going to fuck this perfect pussy as much as I want, whenever I want. Whether you like it or not."

You groaned in discomfort, tears falling down your cheeks. You panted heavily in exhaustion from struggling against Doflamingo's advances. There was no way you could break free from his strings. They were practically indestructible.

"There's no use fighting it, my dear. You're mine, and there's no escaping me." Doflamingo's voice was calm and composed, despite the intense pleasure he was deriving from your body.

"Look at you, all flushed and panting. You might hate me now, but you'll soon learn to love this. Your body was made for mine. It's a match made in heaven." Doflamingo's thrusts became slower, more deliberate, as he savoured the feeling of your tightness around him. "Fuck, you feel so good, so perfect. I could fuck you for hours and never get enough." He reached down, his hand cupping your breast, his thumb brushing against your nipple.

Your body was overflowing with various emotions... You didn't know how to feel. Violated, angry, enraged, unheard... However, despite your anger and hatred, your body responded to his advances. Blood began flowing to your sex organs, involuntarily becoming aroused to accommodate the onslaught of Doflamingo's assault, providing lubrication to ease the pain, in addition to his precum coating your walls. Tears ran down your cheeks as he continued his assault.

"I can see how your body is reacting. It's begging for my cock, isn't it?" Doflamingo's voice was soft and seductive, his grip on your hips never faltering as he continued to toy with you. "Soon you'll be begging for more, to feel my seed inside you."

His thrusts became erratic, his pace growing more intense. Doflamingo's teeth were gritted, his eyes locked on yours as he continued to fuck you, the changes in your body only fueling his desire to make you submit to him completely.

"Ah, a new angle might help you reach that orgasm you're so desperately resisting." Doflamingo undid the strings around your legs and pulled out, before pushing you onto all fours, your face pressed into the mattress. He wrapped new strings around your shoulders, securing you in place as you remained face down, your ass in the air.

Doflamingo's thumbs spread your labia, admiring his prize. "Such a tight, wet little cunt. And it's all mine" Doflamingo's cock was eager to enter you again as he lined himself up with your entrance. He began to thrust into you from behind, his pace slow and deliberate, savouring the feeling of your tightness around him once more.

"You feel so good, so perfect. I'm going to fuck you until you submit to me completely." Doflamingo's voice was a mix of lust and dominance as he continued to take his pleasure from your body. His thrusts grew more intense, his grip moving to your hips, never faltering as he continued to fuck you, determined to make you submit to the pleasure he was giving you. "Give in, my dear. You know you want to."

"I refuse!" Doflamingo was really trying to take your orgasm by force. "I'll never give in to you!"

Doflamingo thrusted all the way inside you, holding his position there for a moment, his hands grabbing and groping your ass, eliciting a moan from him. "You feel so good, so perfect. I've never had a pussy this tight before." He began to slowly thrust in and out of you, his hands continuing to grope your ass. Doflamingo's voice was filled with lust and dominance as he continued to take his pleasure from your body, unwilling to let go of you until he made you submit to the pleasure he was giving you.

Doflamingo squeezed your legs and ass cheeks together, his moan echoing in the room as he felt how tight you were around him. "Oh, so fucking tight. I'm going to enjoy this." He pressed your lower body forward, forcing your back to arch, giving him even more access to your tightness.

As Doflamingo's thrusts became more intense, your breath was essentially being knocked out of you with each thrust. You gripped the sheets beneath you.

"I'm going to fuck your perfect cunt as much as I want, and I'm going to cum inside you every single time. It doesn't matter how you feel, what you say, or how you resist. You belong to me, and I'm going to do whatever the fuck I want with you." Doflamingo's voice was filled with dominance and lust as he continued to thrust into you, his pace growing more erratic as he neared his own climax. "Your purpose is to get fucked by me, to carry my lineage. And I'm going to make sure I cum inside you as much as possible to ensure you get pregnant, whether you want to or not." Doflamingo's voice was filled with lust and dominance as he thrust as deep as he could, his glans lodged in your cervix.

"NO-!! STOP!! DOFLAMINGO STOP!" You fought with all of your might to get away and prevent him from cumming inside you.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going? Like I'd let you escape my pleasure!" He gripped on your shoulders and he forced you back onto his cock. Doflamingo's body began to convulse as he came, his testicles drawing up and tightening, pulsing against your clit with each throb of his cock, pouring massive amounts of his semen into your uterus. You felt yourself fill with his seed, a visible swelling in your lower abdomen as he successfully mated with you.

"Oh, fuck, look at you swell with my seed. It's so goddamn hot." Doflamingo possessively wrapped his hands around your stomach, caressing it as he felt it continue to swell, further prolonging his orgasm, driving him to ejaculate even more inside you.

The sight that unfolded was of Doflamingo's thick cock buried deep inside your tight pussy. Your stomach swelled visibly with the amount of cum he had filled you with, the white fluid leaking out of the corners of your stretched lips, evidence of his claim on you.

His hands cradled your stomach, his fingers splayed over the growing mound as he continued to pump his seed into you, grinding his hips against yours as he desperately tried to fill you with as much of his essence as possible.

"I love watching your stomach swell with my seed, knowing that it's going to grow my offspring. You're mine, and I'm going to make sure you never forget that." His voice was filled with lust, dominance, and possession as he continued to ejaculate inside you, his grip on your body never faltering as he reveled in the sight of his seed claiming your body as his own.

You continued to grip the sheets beneath you to try and crawl away with the little amount of energy you had left, but the deed had been done. You couldn't escape Doflamingo's grasp or his onslaught of assault. Tears were flowing down your cheeks as reality began to set in.

Doflamingo's grip on you remained firm as he dislodged his glans from your cervix. His hand traced patterns along your now swollen abdomen, using his devil fruit strings to close your cervix, sealing his seed inside you, ensuring none would leak out.

"Don't worry, your body will take care of the rest. I've done my part, and now it's up to nature to do its work." Doflamingo's eyes met yours, his gaze filled with a mix of lust, dominance, and satisfaction as he continued to caress your swollen stomach, reveling in the fact that he had successfully mated with you and claimed your body as his own.

"You'll get used to it, and in time, you'll thank me for giving you the opportunity to host my offspring." His grip on you never faltered as he continued to take in the feeling of his seed swelling your stomach, his fingers gently splayed over the mound, as if he were cradling the most precious treasure in the world.

"For now, rest, my dear. You've been through a lot, and you'll need your strength for what's to come." Doflamingo's voice was soft, but there was no doubt about the dominance and ownership in his tone as he continued to revel in his conquest, his possession of you complete.

"You're mine now, whether you want it or not." Doflamingo's words echoed in your mind as he pulled out, removed his strings from your body, and put his clothes back on.

He left the room, leaving you alone, your mind reeling from what had just happened. The thought of being raped crossed your mind, and you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of violation.

You collapsed onto the bed, your body shaking with a mixture of emotions, from shock to grief. After regaining your strength, you got up, your movements slow and heavy, as if you were walking through molasses.

You approached the mirror, your hands automatically moving to your stomach as you took in your reflection. The swollen abdomen was a stark reminder of what had happened, and your face crumpled as you put your hands to your face, tears flowing unabated.

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on your heart, and all you could do was cry, the tears a physical manifestation of the turmoil you felt inside. Doflamingo's claim on you was absolute, and for the first time in your life, you were completely at the mercy of another.

#one piece #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote family #doffy #doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x reader smut #fem reader #one piece smut #x reader #doflamingo smut #smut #doflamingo

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forbidden-sin-bin · 1 year ago

Text

By Your Side - Chapter 3

Summary: Only appearing as a mere background extra a few times, your hopes of landing a large enough role to be truly seen dwindles by the minute. In the midst of the long wait, you bury yourself in being the hardest working part-time barista the café has to offer.

Oh, and say hello to your new manager, who’s also working hard to make ends meet.

---

August 27, 1997

---

Brushing your apron smooth, you made your way to the cash register with a your usual practiced smile. "Welcome to the Tango Palace. What can I get you today?"

The welcoming expression on your face was far from the reality of your situation right now. And boy, it was bad.

Ever since the trip from New York feeling like a success, the days of receiving nothing but silence on your end slowly melted into creeping disappointment. Waiting by the phone for hours on end, all for nothing, the day wasted.

And it wasn't just the callback that you were waiting for: you had dozens of tryouts in the race against many others - improvs, scripts, interviews, singing, even a literal hand evaluation - in order to take that one and only spot of being chosen.

Though your parents were always happy whenever you landed a spot as an extra in the background of a single scene, be it movie or tv show, it did nothing to quell the shot-through nerves of wondering if the agency would ever give you an update on that callback you did.

At this point, nearing the new school year for Quinn's first year of kindergarten was the only silver lining in all of this. No doubt, you were proud, but it was bittersweet seeing them grow so fast. It seemed as if it were only yesterday that you had brought him home from the hospital, and in a blink he's walking, talking and ready to learn how to read.

In fact, you were so lost in reminiscing you nearly missed your customer's order.

Realizing you may or may not have zoned out for a second too long, you mentally slapped yourself as you quickly typed out the order. "S-sorry! Was it a regular coffee, one cream, no sugar?"

"And a quiche." Your customer sighed. "Jesus Christ..."

You nodded as you forced down your panic and irritation at the backhanded comment, giving them the total as you set the register to print out the receipt. "Alright, it'll only take a second." Whipping around, you set to work on pouring out a steaming hot cup of coffee, freshly brewed, and placing a pre-prepared veggie quiche out of the fridge and into the oven, dialing the settings to heat it just right.

Holding back your own sigh, you leaned back on the countertop as you waited. Truth be told, you weren't sure if the thought of getting fired was more stressful, or the thought of becoming a good-for-nothing that's entirely possible in the near future was worse. Either way, you couldn't lose this job.

The owners were kind enough, and business wasn't overly crowded with people, but you wanted to show them that hiring you was the best decision they could've made. Thinking about anything that isn't the job is the complete opposite of what you're trying to prove.

'Don't think of anything but what's in front of you, right now.'

---

Later that evening...

---

You tossed each letter onto the table in two separate piles; One for bills, the other for junk mail. After an uneventful day of serving customers, you returned home as always, filtering out the mail for your parents before they came home.

It wouldn't be long before the school year started, and you'd have to cut your hours in order to pick Quinn up from school, elsewise he'd be stuck in the after-care program till six, which wasn't fair for him at all.

It wasn't as if your family was poor or in debt, rather down on its luck. Your parents working at desk jobs required them to be there from at least nine to five, there was little to no time to take a break, especially now that they're not just working to keep the house afloat; If all else failed, you'd have to pick a course and go through community college just to get some degree that'll help you find a job that pays.

A part of you feared that you'd be kicked out eventually, which terrified your thoughts of not being able to take care of Quinn. And not being able to take care of Quinn means you're probably getting kicked out of the house like every other parent does to their kid that doesn't deliver.

Alright, that last part is debatable. But it’s possible, and you weren’t taking any chances.

And by not taking any chances, you sure as hell weren’t about to let the phone ring twice as you practically leaped over the kitchen table to pick it up.

"Hi! Hello?! Sorry- hello?"

"H-hello? Hi, is this-?" A stressed voice stutters out your first and last name.

Your face, initially bright with hope fell comically quick as you realized it wasn't an agency calling you for a role. Instead, a somewhat nervous voice of a young man answered. From how he sounded you could tell he was sweating bullets coming out of the other side of the phone.

"Yes, hi. That would be correct." You replied, not bothering to hide your deadpan shift in mood. This however didn't seem to phase the stranger.

"Oh, great! I saw your resume sent in to my agency, and I see you're looking for an agent to represent you in the coming years? Hopefully trying to find work?"

A few seconds of silence passed as you processed his response. 'Oh shoot, they actually remembered?' You thought with wide eyes.

"He-hello?"

"Yep, still on the line. May I ask who's calling?"

"Sean Warden. Sorry I should've introduced myself at the start but-"

You cut him off. "All good. And to answer your question: Yes. I'm in need of assistance in receiving job offers. Is that sufficient?"

"Awesome. So, the reason I'm calling you right now is because I have a proposition to offer you."

Again, silence, as if he was awaiting a reaction out of you. You however, had already begun to lose patience. "...Please continue." You held back a sigh, beginning to wonder if this is some sort of prank call or scam caller.

Still, this 'Sean' guy seemed either desperate or eager as he revealed his intention.

"I would like to represent you as your agent."

...

A few hours later...

...

"I'm going to be honest with you: This is not how I expected a potential signing of a client to look like."

Sitting inside a Tim Horton's café, coffee cups in hand, you found yourself sitting at a two-person table with a young, skittish and scrawny looking man in his mid to late twenties. Admittedly, this isn't the kind of guy you'd expect to meet.

Sharing an awkward silence, both of you holding small black coffees, neither of you had the gall to break the painful, painful silence. At least, until you've finished reading the whole entire contract that he gave you.

Given you're in the middle of the second page out of... eight, this was going to be a long evening.

Flicking your gaze at him for a brief glance away from your reading, you saw no impatience, only anxiousness, in his face. "Sorry if I'm taking up your time." You offered, figuring it'd be the least you could do for someone who hasn't been pushing your buttons.

Sean waves you off. "No need, I'm just happy you've agreed to even see me. I'll take anything, really."

You raised a brow. 'Anything, he says.' Your thoughts wandered away to making it seem as if you weren't the first option of employment, probably the last.

"O-oh, no no nonono, I didn't mean it like that!" He corrects himself, probably noticing or fearing that he might've made you reconsider signing that contract. "I mean- like-" He sighs, covering his face with a hand, filled with stress. "Don't get me wrong, I absolutely wanted to pick you as a client. I've seen your resume and everything; I can see the potential you have, I mean it."

Nodding, you resumed scanning the papers. "Continue. I'm listening, don't worry." Seeing that he hadn't missed his shot, he relaxed a little.

"I'm not trying to sell a sob story, it's just the truth. As you may know, the work I do is to find others work; Aspiring actors, music artists, the like? I'm no beginner to this, I've had many clients in the past and I haven't failed finding them jobs. But when there's older, more experienced agents... Well, you'd want to be represented by them more than me."

You hummed in acknowledgement, not taking your eyes off the contract as you flipped to page 3.

"My last three clients have all decided to move on to find a more renowned agency, meaning that as of now, I've no one to find work for, which also means my wages are little to none at the moment." Sean finished, clasping his hands together and resting them on the table, looking down as he finished. "What I'm offering you right now isn't the end all, be all. I promise you, regardless of what's going on in my personal and home life, I'll give it my all to find you what you need." It almost sounds like a plead, coming from him. "If you end up parting ways with me in the future, that's more than okay! It's just... please. Give me this chance to help you out."

Finally, you raised your head to look at him. Keeping your face neutral, you finally spoke after a few moments:

"Could you do something for me, if I do sign?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yeah, of course! What is it?"

Taking sip of your coffee first, you then reached into your bag and handed him your notebook. Well, one of many... but you knew this one had something you were looking for, and you couldn't reach it by yourself.

Flipping through to the page you wanted him to see, you slid the notebook over too him. "There's someone I know that's been looking to release an EP this year... probably this year, I don't know exactly. Problem is, you can't find their stuff here, only in Detroit. Think you could help me out?"

"Can I?" He almost laughed in relief. "Say no more." Scanning the written contact info that wasn't written in your hand, you watched as he holds the notebook closer to his face as something flickers across his expression. "Hold on a second..." First starting from genuine interest slowly melted to confusion, then familiarity.

You raised a brow. "Is everything alright?"

Suddenly, Sean's gray eyes widened in recognition, and indignation.

"OH, NOT THAT BALD-HEADED BASTARD?!"

...

....

.....

A few weeks later...

...

"OH, NOT THAT SMUG FUCKIN TWINK."

Marshall's head snapped up from writing another let of lyrics as he looked at his recently-signed agent, Paul. "The fuck you goin on about man?"

Holding the letter in his hands, Paul looked like he was glaring daggers into the paper. "Not you! It's this guy that I knew from law school, fucking annoying is what he was." Tossing the paper to his table, he sighed as he walked out of the room. "Take a look if you want, apparently his client claims to know you or something. They're waiting for your EP."

'How the hell'd they know already, this fuckin early?' Marshall picked up the paper, lazily scanning through the content that somehow got Paul pissed enough to take a hike. The signed name of the writer, Sean Warden, didn't ring any bells except the one labelled: 'white guy's name', if it wasn't obvious enough.

No one here would name their kid Sean, for fucks sake.

The name of his client however... slowly, but eventually remembering that day they met, even if it was only for a few minutes, was not forgotten on either of them, it seems.

Marshall huffed out a laugh.

"Hoooooooly fuckin shit. That bitch actually did it."

----

(End of Chapter 3)

----

A/N: HAPPY 1 YEAR AND... *checks calendar* NEARLY THREE MONTHS Y'ALL

Yep.

I think you already know I'm about to apologize again, so uhh... I'm extremely, very sorry? If any of you are still waiting I'm incredibly sorry for the long ass wait. I said previously it was all uphill from here, which was a LIE IT SEEMS

But just to make it up to you all... Chapter 4 is coming THIS WEEK. So there's something to look forward too I hope! Chapter 5 is coming a few weeks after as well. But I hope this suffices for now, thank you for your patience <3

Taglist: @eminemsorangejuice , @slimshay-castle , @jackiehollanderr , @mizzysx , @esposadomd , @dimitrampl , @hallecarey1 , @krillfromsky , @nabiiturner, @swimregulas , @olivesarenicetoeat17 , @linnottt , @harryswif3 , @liathelioness , @roundbrownlover , @crimsonincursive , @akemiixx01 , @lizzy06 , @chxe-zdechnac , @ellies-femme , @qwerrry , @born2wyn , @thefemalestorywriter , @milllieeee , @neozen-23 , @in0320

(Let me know in my ask box if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

#by your side series #eminem x reader #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #eminem fanfiction #bys series #Sin Bin Books

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lucozadehulahoop · 2 years ago

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A Question of Time (Astarion x afab!Tav) part 4/?

Chapter summary: Astarion comes to terms with the peculiar effects of Tav's blood running through his veins, and leaving her is becoming more difficult than he'd originally anticipated.

Also: Astarion unwillingly finds himself reading a smut fic.

Tags and T.W.:pre-bg3!Astarion, slave!Astarion, demi-goddess!tav, kinda NSFW (minors stay away kindly, thank you darlings).

words: 2.5k

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

Tav felt the bite before she could even see it coming.

In her complete state of confusion, he twisted her hands even tighter in Astarion's shirt, frightened yet seeking comfort from the strong hold he had on her at the same time.

They were completely locked in on each other, almost as if letting a single breath of air between them would have been a fatal mistake.

Tav whimpered softly as her mind finally caught up with the sharp pain in her neck, the languid pull of her blood being drained from her flesh. She would have been lying if she said she hadn't already suspected something about Astarion's nature, but it had never quite mattered to her in the grand scheme of things.

"A-Astarion..." She pleaded with him, uncertain on whether he'd be able to stop himself. Tav wasn't human, she could withstand most perils situations that others couldn't, but neither of them could know the consequences of a vampire drinking her blood of all people.

Astarion was completely lost in his bliss. Not only had he just broken one of his Master's cardinal commandments by drinking the blood of a thinking creature, but he'd just switched from two centuries of eating rats and dogs to sipping on the very ambrosia of the gods.

He felt strong. No, more than that, he felt invincible, like he could walk right up to Cazador and snap him in half if he wanted to.

The next thing he felt was warmth begin to spread through his body in the first time since forever. He let out a groan of relief, sinking his teeth even deeper into Tav's neck, making her cry out. "Astarion, please!" And that, was when he finally remembered himself and what he was doing, his eyes flying open in alarm.

He was very careful to hold her still as to not hurt her while he retracted his fangs in the most gentle manner he could muster. "Oh what have I done-- what have I done?" Astarion cursed himself as he looked at Tav' vacant eyes and the giant gaping wound he'd just given her. In a fit of panic, he first attempted to stop the bleeding by putting pressure on her neck with his hand, then opted to do the same with the nearest, cleanest piece of fabric he could find.

He brought her over to the bed so she could lay down, never once stopping the pressure he was keeping over he wound. "Tav? Tav, darling, keep those pretty eyes on me now--" Astarion tried his best to keep her from drifting further away from him, but his attempts were seeming more and more fruitless by the second. "No, no don't you do this to me, okay? I made a mistake --- a truly wretched mistake. I never meant-I never wanted to hurt you please-"

Astarion suddenly heard the words he was speaking out loud in his own head. Was he worried? For someone else other than him? Was he afraid to... lose Tav? He blinked a single tear and realised his face wasn't just wet with Tav's blood. He was... crying.

"Tav, just... just say something... please darling, I'd give anything to... hear that bratty little voice of yours right now..." Astarion pleaded with her silently, undecided if he was more afraid about her dying in his arms or how much it hurt to care about another person again after so long. And why did he care so much about her? The two of them weren't lovers, nor had they known each other long.

Maybe it was the fact Astarion was now aware of what she'd sacrificed for him. That despite appearances, she was just as much of a prisoner inside the Crimson Palace as he was.

It could have been because he saw an affinity in their rather different tragidies. Or maybe... Tav had been the only person he'd met in his undead life that had tried her best to help him without seemingly wanting anything back from him. It could have been that Astarion may have possibly been harbouring the small hope of having found a friend, someone who didn't treat him like a monster or use him for his body. Someone he was beginning to like, that drew him in with her insufferable self righteousness and her pouty lips---

"Shh, quiet..." Her sweet voice came to him finally. "Can't you hear it? Your heart... it's beating." She murmured weakly before falling asleep with her head on his chest.

Astarion feared the worst. Tav was clearly delirious, thinking that she could hear the heart beat of a vampire --- then he felt it too. Incredulously, Astarion put a hand over his chest and listened. His heart... was truly beating.

He laughed in shock, welcoming the tears of joy that ran down his face as he tried his best not to hurt Tav while his hand was still keeping pressure on the wound.

For five more minutes Astarion lay in bed and revelled in the fact he had a beating heart once more. Then, slowly, the steady rhythm began to de down until it finally came to a familiar halt. Tav's blood had briefly, but undoubtedly made him human.

With a cool head once again, Astarion managed to rationalise the intense feelings he'd felt while he'd been worried sick over Tav. He wouldn't have been able to fret over her so much in his normal state, but that didn’t mean they hadn't been real. For a brief moment he'd been yanked out of the hardened selfish shell that came with being a vampire and he'd remembered what it felt like to care for someone else.

So... he hadn't always been such a bad person, he thought as he gazed down at Tav, who was still sleeping on his chest. Thankfully, he wound had been healing fast, at almost unnatural speed.

That still didn't make things right.

He'd taken something from her forcefully, used her for his own needs. And he would have been a dirty liar if he said he hadn't liked it too. A single taste of her blood and he'd been brought to ecstasy.

Now back in the seat of power, his selfish mind told him Tav was too valuable to let go. She made him strong, gave him unimaginable pleasure. What if... he could walk in daylight if he just drank enough of her blood? Even if only for a few hours...

Things would be even more complicated if Astarion were willing to openly acknowledge how deeply he desired Tav. The mere thought of it scratched at a possessive itch at the back of his brain he hadn't even been aware he had. She may have been powerful, but she was too sweet, too trusting of the world despite the environment she'd experienced. Shouldn't it have been... Astarion's responsibility to keep her from harm? From the terrible monsters out there who wouldn't have thought twice about exploiting her? After all, he owed her, considering everything she had done for him...

...☆...

When Tav woke up, she found tea and biscuits on the bedside table. She tentatively touched the cup with her fingers and found it to be cold, almost as if the beverage had been prepared hours ago.

She looked around to find she was back in her room, snugly tucked into her bed. Reaching for her neck, she let out a slight hiss at how tender her flesh still felt.

"Thought you might like to know... prince charming himself is here... and I doubt he's looking for me..." Astarion sneered as he looked out the window, his sharp eyes zeroing in on the valiant young knight who'd come to court Tav. It should have been none of his business. The sun had nearly almost set and it was about time he himself go going before he wasted another night.

Tav barely managed to sit up on the bed. It didn't usually take her so long to recover whenever she got hurt. Yet, she was feeling rather... sluggish and warn out. "Oh... is it one of those people asking for handkerchiefs again?" Tav huffed, closing her eyes and rubbing her midriff a little. "Just throw one down for him, will you Astarion? I don't understand... is there a shortage of cloth in the city? There's always a new one coming around... singing a song or asking very nicely..."

Astarion gave Tav a look of pure confusion. Did she really think that knights and nobles trying to serenate her at dusk were simply people who needed handkerchiefs? It clicked in his head then, that when a lady would give a token of her favour, the token usually resembled something akin to an embroidered cloth or handkerchief.

When the realisation hit, he burst out laughing in Tav's face.

"What?" Tav searched his face for a reason to his hilarity, now she was the one to be confused. "The first time it happened... this gentleman showed up, he was a terrible singer, kept me up all night with his... whining... so I started throwing things at him. Out of the pile, he picked at a handkerchief, seemed pretty happy, and left. Never saw him again. The others have been more or less the same."

It wasn't hard to believe they never came back. Trespassing on Cazador's grounds at night was dangerous business. Astarion grinned to himself in a rather evil thought. Tav had been unknowingly drawing in a fair amount of unsuspecting prey, and for some reason, it gave him great satisfaction to know all of her suitors up to that point had come to a rather sticky end.

"Darling, let me explain something to you—" Astarion began to say as he walked towards her, but he was interrupted by the lousy notes of a poorly strummed lute. The terrible sound of it made him visibly cringe.

"My lady — oh, fair lady —" The voice outside began to sing out of tune.

"Oh no..." Tav whined. "Just, throw something down the window of the tower for him, will you? I really am not in the right state to deal with this right now..."

"Sure, how about that priceless pianoforte in your music room?" Astarion snickered. "I bet that will keep him quiet. For good."

"No! I do not want you to flatten the poor man with my piano!... just... let's just try to ignore it..." Tav searched through a pile of books next to her bed, deciding to attempt reading as a distraction.

"Oh lady, lady of the tower-

Why, oh why would you leave me so... sour?"

"Oh sweet hells, is this guy actually serious?" Astarion cursed and shook his head, marching over to open the window and peek his head out. The knight was unsurprisingly taken back by seeing him instead of Tav.

"I say, are you incapable of taking a hint?" Astarion shouted down at him. The man was gobsmacked, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. "The lady of the tower is rather indisposed at this moment..." He said languidly, purposely making the man draw the wrong conclusions. "In fact, she is completely bedridden... if you catch my meaning... I do apologize as it is completely my fault..."

Okay, so maybe he was laying it on a bit too thick. But it wasn't as if Astarion was jealous or anything. He just enjoyed messing with people. It was one of life's little pleasures.

"Now get lost, the last thing you want is to get caught out there after dark..." Astarion gave him one last warning before closing the windows shut.

"You didn't have to be so mean to him, you know?" Tav said as Astarion turned back to face her.

He took in the state he'd left her in and hated the fact he was sprouting a sense of empathy at an incredibly inconvenient time for him. Tav had done so much for him, and he'd yet to hear her screaming at him for taking a chunk out of her without permission.

Astarion didn't want to say goodbye. He decided then and there he was going to leave as soon as Tav fell back to sleep, which in her condition was probably going to be soon. All he needed to do was speed the process along.

He picked up the first book he could find on her drawing desk and sat down in a chair next to her bed.

Astarion looked at the title on the cover and tried his best not to roll his eyes. Tristan and Iseult. Of course, he had to go and pick a love story.

"You really don't have to read to me just because you feel bad-" Tav began to say, but Astarion cut her off.

"Excuse me, I'll have you know I am a very prolific reader, and you, my dear, seem to have a lack of understanding when it comes to courtship so this will be... an informative way to pass the time." He said, and swallowed thickly, already dreading the experience.

"How so?" Tav asked, blinking up at him curiously.

"Because-" Astarion huffed, already feeling uncomfortable in his chair. "This-" he said, wagging the book up in the air. "Is one of greatest love stories of all time and maybe you'll be... more aware of what's going on the next time some fool comes singing underneath your window..."

Tav raised a quizzical eyebrow at him, but asked no further questions. Astarion cleared his throat and began the reading. He was surprised to find the story was a lot less boring than he'd remembered, clearly catching on to the fact it was an unofficial re-telling of some sorts, due to new characters and extra encounters he'd never known from the original version.

Unfortunately, Tav was very interested too, hanging off his every word. She didn't seem like she was about to fall asleep any time soon. Astarion did his best to counteract this by letting his voice drone on in a deep soothing tone, yet his eyes almost jumped out of his skull when the tender love story took a very unexpected turn.

"Tristan watched as his fair love drank down the potion so hastily, the liquid spilled down her perfect neck and between the curves of her---" Astarion coughed nervously and turned the page, hoping Tav wouldn't notice as he skipped to the following passage. "Both drunk on the intense effects of the love potion, with trembling hands they reached for----- t-their, um, thriving bodies---"

"Hey! You skipped a section!" Tav protested.

"No, I didn't!" Astarion huffed back, pressing a hand to his forehead. How in the hells had he ended up recanting some bard's published smut-fic, he would never know.

"Let me see that..." Tav snatched the book from his hands and it was all Astarion could do as he jumped on her bed like a cat to get it back.

---

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acatalystrising · 8 days ago

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At long last, I am returning with chapter seven of Moth to a Flame! I always wanted to dive back into this story, and I’m happy to say I am already writing chapter eight as we speak! It’s gonna be a good one hehehe. This is still one of my favorite series I’ve written, and I want to finish it as strong as it began. It’s a chunkier chapter, partially to make up for my absence, I hope you all enjoy!

TW: healing from injuries, cannon typical violence, minor character death, mentions of trauma (alluded PTSD), fluff, teasing, foreplay, dom Boba, sub reader.

Also, here’s the link to the masterlist in case you want to re-read the previous chapters to catch up!

Moth to a Flame Chapter Seven

For once, you awoke from a dreamless slumber.

No nightmares jarring you awake with a pounding heart. No bloodied images burning the back of your mind. You felt nearly at peace emerging from sleep…but upon opening your eyes, you yet again found yourself in a strange room.

Except this time, the bed was incredibly soft.

It was much plusher than your own, a luxury you never had afforded. Despite your immediate instinct to panic, your surroundings were strangely welcoming. Peaceful, even. It felt like a dream. A night and day difference from the sterilized durasteel walls of the Imperial shuttle you’d been trapped in.

Clay, earthen walls greeted you instead, framed by shimmering silken curtains that caught in the desert breeze, curling through the air with a delicate grace that drastically contrasted the harshness of Tatooine. Warm notes of sandalwood and amber filled the air, reminding you of Boba’s scent. The suns hung midway in the sky, the blistering afternoon heat appearing to set them even further aflame.

Tatooine. You were back.

Relief blossomed in your chest, and you relaxed, uncurling your fists and taking a deep breath. Your body was stiff, sore from your ordeal, but you’d honestly expected so much worse. A part of you had assumed that you would die in that shuttle by Sterling’s hand. Fate however, clearly had different plans.

Somehow, Boba had found you, and had brought you back home.

Home…

“Let’s go home.”

You remembered what he’d said before he’d carried you away from the ghosts of your past. He must have taken you to the palace. The architecture spoke of wealth and prestige, something you rarely saw in the Outer Rim. Oddly, you felt no fear at the prospect, but it did leave you with a question.

What would your future look like now?

Your gaze wandered the expansive room, lingering on a large bacta tank near the center, before sweeping to the other side of the bed…finding Boba Fett sitting in a chair across from you, fast asleep.

He was still donned in his armor, and his helmet sat at his feet - allowing you to make a most profound realization.

The Daimyo of Tatooine looked absolutely breathtaking when he finally rested.

The hard planes of his face were somehow softer, lips in less of a frown, brows not so heavily furled. His scars were the same, not that such a thing could ever bother you - considering that you found them striking - but there was a softness to him that you hadn’t seen when he was awake. Granted, you couldn’t call it peaceful. You saw the tension in his jaw, the way his eyelids were pressed shut, in the subconscious twitch of his lip. You wagered he’d wake at the softest sound, the life of a hunter never forgotten.

You wanted to help him find peace, if such a thing were even possible. That was, if he still wanted you.

Would he try to push you away after what happened? You remembered the hesitation that flooded his gaze once the ferocity left, leaving a fearful pause in its wake. He’d been afraid…afraid you’d fear him. That you’d no longer love him.

But did he actually know you loved him?

Did he know that when he killed to defend you, he was bringing your abuser to justice? Did he realize exactly how much that meant to you? He’d protected you, defended your honor, and ensured you’d never be touched by that vile man again. In a way, Boba had freed you from the last connections to your past, allowing you to finally forge a new future.

You had to tell him.

You shifted, turning to your side with a grimace so you were facing him, the covers rustling over you as you did so. Surely that would be enough…

Boba’s eyes snapped open, immediately finding yours.

Relief blossomed in his amber gaze, followed by a warmth that made your heart sing. There was undeniable love there - you saw it. Felt it in the way he looked at you. Devotion too, something that was entirely foreign to you. It made the warmth in your chest rise to a near blaze, the desire to voice your thoughts all the more urgent. When he spoke your name, it was a mere whisper, near reverent.

“Mesh’la,” his voice was lacking the usual roughness, instead it was soft, hesitant, as if he was awaiting your reaction. “You’re safe…”

“Boba,” you tried to speak, wincing when a sharp pain jabbed down your throat. Confusion flooded your chest, and you frowned, trying your best to push through it, determination driving every syllable. “I…”

“Careful, little one,” he swiftly stood, moving to your side, the hesitation seemingly gone. His dark brows lowered, concentration and concern flickering in his gaze. “The bacta is still healing your wounds. Should recover soon.”

In any other situation, seeing him looming over you, donned in full armor, while you were lying in bed, would have been a major turn on. It still was, you noted, not ignorant of the heat that crept up your neck and to your cheeks. But your injuries…exactly how badly wounded were you?

You lifted a tentative hand to your neck, feeling the bandages wrapped over your skin. They were fresh, keeping the bacta flush with your skin, letting it do its healing work. Oh, that was right…you’d yet again been subjected to those hellish Imperial devices…you closed your eyes, swallowing hard. Images of the sterile, soulless rooms and pale walls sent a shudder down your spine, but you shook your head, reminding yourself that you weren’t there. That you’d never be there again.

“Easy there,” a thumb brushed your cheek, and you opened your eyes, finding Boba’s gaze on you, a concerned but caring softness waiting. You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his fingers grounding you to this new reality. “They won’t hurt you ever again. I promise.”

You nodded, a sigh rushing from your lips when his thumb caressed your jaw. The simple gesture nearly moved you to tears - the same hands that spilled blood and ended lives now cradled you with more gentleness than you’d ever known.

“My brave, sweet girl.” He watched you with unbridled admiration, sitting on the edge of the bed beside you, eyes never looking away. You leaned into him, a hand hooking to his chest plate, wanting to feel him close.

“This alright?” His words rumbled through you as much as you heard them, and you nodded, clinging to him tighter. He chuckled when you shifted as much as your pain would allow, your head resting in his lap. He raised a knee to prop you up against, and you relaxed against his solid frame.

“I…” you swallowed, taking a deep breath. He fell silent, waiting, giving you all the space you needed to speak. It was refreshing, to have someone be patient. To give you all the time in the world. “I need…to tell you something.”

The briefest hint of a shadow passed through his gaze, so fast you might not have seen it, had you not been paying attention. But you always did, just as much as he.

Was he afraid you’d reject him?

Despite whatever fears were running through his mind, he simply nodded, remaining silent, still waiting. Perhaps he felt it was best this way, to allow you the space and freedom to let him down easy. But that was exactly the opposite of the truth.

“You’ve…been more than I’ve ever known. Protected me. Saved me. You’re,” you softly cleared your throat, and he lifted a glass of water to your hands. You gratefully drank, handing it back to him once you’d finished. “Everything I’ve ever dreamed for, but never thought I’d find. I…love you, Boba. I’ve been afraid. Afraid you wouldn’t feel the same, but…I’m not afraid anymore.”

Boba’s entire expression shifted from one of worry and masked apprehension to shock, then elation. His brows lifted, plush lips parting ever so slightly. Maker, he looked divine. You’d never wanted to kiss him more than now, in this moment.

“You…really mean that?” There it was, the rough gravel in his tone, soothing your nerves and sending warmth to your very bones.

“I do,” you smiled up at him, hoping he felt your sincerity in every word. “I mean it with all my heart.”

“Oh, sweet girl, that’s good,” his voice grew even huskier as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his warm breath washing over your skin. “Because I love you too. Don’t ever wanna let you go.”

“I’m yours, Boba,” your blinked back tears, happy ones, for once, craving his presence, his closeness. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

“Ad’ika, I’m forever yours,” he pressed another kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, making his way closer to your lips. “Thought I’d lost you.”

“I knew you’d find me,” you gasped when he pressed a kiss to your pulse point. “I always believed…”

“Of course I’d find you, babygirl,” he kissed your jawline, resuming his journey to your lips. “Always will.”

When he kissed you, it was slow, reverent, all encompassing. You leaned into the kiss, breath snagged from your chest as he took control, cradling your head in his hands. He deepened the kiss, and it became more hungry, nearly desperate, as if he was showing you all of what he wanted to say. His fingers loosely gripped your hair, careful to mind your injuries, leaning even closer to gently hold you against him.

When you both finally parted, you were a panting mess, heart pounding, eyes wide. Damn, you’d missed him.

He went to shift away, and you whimpered, too desperate for his closeness to be ashamed. He chuckled, looking down at you with a smirk and a raised brow.

“Boba, I need-“

“Rest.” His tone grew firm, still layered with fondness, the twinkle in his eyes never dimming. “You need rest. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.”

You couldn’t help but love the subtle dominance in his words and actions, the comforting yet solid way he guided you. The promise of the future, a future you’d never known was possible. It was new, so different from what you’d known, but kriff, you loved it. So, you simply nodded, trying your best to save your voice.

“Good girl,” his rumbled praise sent heat spiraling to your core, and you swallowed, gripping him tighter.

Good girl.

Kriffing Maker above, that was hot. And here he was telling you to rest? A furious blush crept to your cheeks, and you knew he saw. Could tell by the gleam in his eyes that clearly showed he did indeed notice, and absolutely was cataloging that information for the future.

“Can you…” you took a breath, finding yourself wishing you could will your body to heal by sheer determination alone. “Can you lay with me? I want…”

“I’ll hold you, little one,” he chuckled, giving you another kiss. “Gotta take this armor off, okay?”

You nodded, and he helped you shift back so your head was resting on the pillow again. You watched as he removed every piece of beskar, mesmerized as the man emerged from the shield that protected him from the world. It was an intimate experience, knowing that he felt safe enough with you to do so, a treasure you’d never take for granted.

When he settled under the covers beside you, the bed depressing from his weight, you snuggled closer, unashamed of seeking out his presence. You were rewarded by another warm chuckle, so very close to you, as his strong arms wrapped around your body, holding you close to his broad chest.

“I love you, ad’ika,” his voice was soft behind you, his fingers gently caressing you, lulling you to sleep. “Always.”

“I love you too,” you snuggled closer against him, and his arms held you just a bit tighter, as much as your injuries would allow. “So, so much.”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling so warm, so safe, it nearly brought you to tears.

You were finally, at long last, home.

“You sure that thing isn’t gonna bite your fingers off?”

You glanced up from the nexu cub splayed in your lap at Fennec, who leaned against your kitchen counter. What was it with these bounty hunters lounging against your furniture? Not that you truthfully were complaining.

“She’s trained, don’t worry.” You shot at smirk at the assassin, gesturing at the ball of fur and teeth currently trying to steal your new necklace. “Didn’t take you for a cat hater, Fen.”

“I don’t hate cats.” She smirked, leaning against the wall with a sigh. “I hate getting bitten. Or scratched. Not my thing.”

You were about to issue a reply when a new voice interjected from behind Fennec.

“Discussing preferences, hmm? Stars help me if you two have already descended to ‘girl talk’.”

Boba’s familiar rasp made your heart leap, and you couldn’t wipe the dumb smile from your face when he stepped around Fennec, helmet tucked at his side. His eyes found yours, a playful gleam twinkling there, and you dipped your head in a blush.

“Well now that you’re back, I’ll leave the ‘babysitting’ to you.” Fennec headed toward the door, shooting a smile back at you. “Don’t get captured again, you still owe me a drink. And you’d better visit that rancor, he misses you like crazy.”

You laughed as she exited, gaze shifting back to Boba in all his armored glory. Damn, he looked so good in his beskar. You’d never get enough of it. The sheer power he exuded alone was enough to make your head spin.

“Glad you’re still in one piece, princess,” he allowed a smile to curve his lips, before turning his gaze to sweep your living room. “Though I would prefer for everyone to be at the palace.”

Oh, you knew what he was implying. Boba had been so focused on your recovery as of late, that ensuring you were rested and healing was his priority. His protectiveness simply made your heart melt.

“Don’t worry, Fennec’s been the best body guard. I will, I just have to get them ready for the trip,” you scratched the nexu’s chin, grinning when she purred and leaned into your touch. “Not to worry. I’ll have everything packed and-“

Boba chuckled with a distinctly dark cadence, stepping forward until he was towering over your seated figure.

“Don’t play coy with me, little one, you’re not moving anything.” He met your gaze with a gentle, yet firm, smile. “You need your rest. I’ll oversee the transportation myself.”

Healing, it turned out, took an agonizingly long time when all you wanted to do was to feel Boba’s hands on you.

It was nearly shameful, you thought, how often your mind locked on every lingering glance, every touch, every word spoken softly in the dark. It was enough to drive someone mad.

“Of course, my daimyo,” you made a dramatic show of a bow, as much as you could in your seated position, grateful you’d healed enough for the motion. You even dared to shoot him a wink. “I won’t move a muscle.”

“Don’t be a brat,” a sharp smile curved the corner of his lip, something altogether dangerous darkening his gaze. “Be a good girl and you’ll be rewarded.”

There it was again.

Ever since he learned how much those two words affected you, he’d slip them into conversation when applicable, which just happened to be frequent enough to keep you in a constant state of desperation.

But judging by the sharpness of his expression, those amber eyes locked on you like a Vratixan blood eagle’s, there’d be no loophole in his orders. At the end of the day, he was the daimyo. The master hunter. And while you trusted him with your very breath, you never could forget who he was. Who he always would be. The deadliest and most powerful man, the stars at his fingertips - soft only for you.

And you were happily in his clutches.

“I…yes, sir,” you were nearly breathless when you finally spoke, dipping your head into the nexu’s fur in an attempt to mask your burning cheeks. “I’ll rest. I’m finally starting to feel more like myself again.”

“So my princess does have manners.” Boba knelt before you, a gloved hand reaching forward and lifting your chin to meet his probing gaze, grip gentle yet firm. “Good. Let’s get you back home. I’ll handle everything here.”

Home.

You were still getting used to that word. Because in truth, the home Boba spoke of wasn’t simply a new place you lived, but a person in which you felt at peace.

Boba had, in so many ways, proven your doubts and fears wrong time after time. He made a choice that none before him ever could.

He chose to stay.

“It’s only been a week, and you’re already bouncing off the walls.” Fennec lounged on one of Boba’s chairs, feet kicked up. She honestly looked a tad ridiculous, but you kept that thought to yourself…for now. “I don’t know how he managed to keep you bedridden for five days.”

You thought back to all of the tender moments, the concerned glances, the sweet words and care Boba had extended to you, and smiled.

It was both strange and sweet, really, to have someone of his strength and reputation doting over you. But you didn’t mind, the attention wasn’t unwelcome, merely something you were learning to accept. And ever since you both had admitted your feelings, there had certainly been a shift between you.

You thought he’d flirted and shown interest plenty before, but now?

There was a certain softness, yet protectiveness, dare you say possessiveness, in his words and deeds that simply made you swoon.

He held you every night, and caressed you every morning when you awoke.

“I gave him a run for his money, don’t worry.” You smirked and ran your fingers through your hair, noting with a smirk that it finally had regained its healthy sheen. “But he was insistent, as always. You know how he is.”

“Don’t I.” Fennec smirked and shot you a wink. You couldn’t help but smile. “Someone’s been getting her beauty sleep.”

You gazed at your reflection on the mirror, and smoothed a wrinkle on the flattering dress, a gift he’d bought you that had caught your eye. Black with curling dark green vines, it would match his armor perfectly. You did a quick spin, and couldn’t help but smile.

You looked stronger now. Healthier, more glow to your cheeks and life in your eyes. The bacta patches were gone, and even though there were fresh scars overlapping with your previous ones, the wounds were finally healed. You felt pretty in the dress, and despite the fact that your profession rarely called for them, it was a welcome change.

Boba had ensured your animals were given the upmost care, tended to by his best. You couldn’t wait to see them again, but for now, as you were just getting back on your feet, you allowed a moment to breathe.

“Something like that,” you turned to face her, finally feeling ready. Your rest had paid off, but you didn’t want to sit around any longer.

“I take it you want to see him?” Fennec stood, slinging her rifle over her shoulder.

“I would,” you smirked at her, inwardly relived you both got along so well. “I assume he’s working?”

“He’s holding court,” Fennec turned to usher you out, glancing back at you with a grin. “Don’t worry, your visit would make his day.”

The throne room was so crowded you nearly second guessed entering, panic locking your steps, but Fennec would hear none of it, confidently walking forward like she owned the place.

You both slipped through the back entrance to avoid the majority of the throng, and for safety measures of course, silent as Boba’s voice carried through the cavernous space.

You didn’t see him yet, only the stone back of the throne, but you could observe the bounty hunter standing before him. The man was thin and sheepish looking. Young. Even from your distance, you could tell he was angrily trying to make an appeal to the daimyo.

But that wasn’t what caught your attention.

Growing up, you’d heard horrific stories of Jabba’s palace. Tales of cruelty and debauchery that far surpassed any reason. Every local knew these stories, were warned that entering that throne room meant death. And sometimes…a fate far worse. Anxiety corded its way up your throat as you felt eyes falling upon you, and you folded your arms in front of your chest, immediately regretting your choice of clothing.

Fennec seemed to pay this no mind, gesturing for you to follow.

You did so, a slight tremor in your step, as you both slid to the far wall. Despite your residual fear, you reminded yourself that Jabba did not hold power now - Boba did. And you knew your lover would protect you, no matter what. You also were with Fennec, and fully capable of defending yourself. You would be alright. You took a deep breath and walked with confidence, head held high, gaze sweeping the room.

As you both made your way to the back, where you’d be out of the crowd’s sight, the man spoke, thin voice rattling against the stone walls.

“Who gave you the right, oh ‘mighty’ daimyo, to tell us what to do?” The bounty hunter was enraged, face flushed, hand dripping to his blaster. “You’re out of your prime, old man. Plenty of us could take you down. What gives you the right to rule over us?”

The room fell so deathly silent, one could hear a pin drop, tension hovering in the air. Your gaze was finally pulled to Boba, as if gravity itself demanded your rapt attention.

You swore to the stars your knees all but gave out on the spot. Cheeks furiously burning, you leaned your weight against the wall, eyes glued to the green armored man who held his court like a king.

You’d never seen such power on display.

Boba Fett sat upon the carved throne with a regal countenance and equally a relaxed confidence - sprawled like the very world was his footstool. His relaxed posture didn’t fool you, though, you knew he was too tactful. Too calculating. And right now, his T-visored helm was focused on the lesser hunter before him, the angle harsh and predatory, torchlight flaring on the beskar like shattered glass.

Your gaze dropped to his spread thighs, and altogether improper thoughts flooded your mind. You blinked, biting your bottom lip, heat settling between your legs as he shifted, muscles rippling underneath beskar and cloth, fingers tapping a steady cadence on the throne’s armrest.

Kriffing hells, that had no right being so hot.

Movement next to you broke your concentration, and you frowned as Fennec lifted her rifle’s scope to her eye.

“We should be able to hunt who we want. Sell spice if we please.” The hunter was still going, clearly unaware that he was spelling his doom. “And I-“

“Take it, then.” Boba’s voice rolled like the thunder before a devastating storm. His helm tilted to the left, and he raised a gloved hand, gesturing at the throne. “Think you’re worthy? See where it gets you.”

The man finally fell silent, fidgeting in place, hand dangerously close to his blaster. But he didn’t attack. You swore you saw the hunter’s face turn several shades paler when Boba unholstered one of his own blasters…laying it on the seat beside him.

The younger man still did nothing but gape, clearly expecting a trap, unsure of what to do.

“Admit your bluff. Walk away.” Boba still hadn’t moved, a nearly amused tone lilting in his voice. “And I’ll let you off with a warning.”

You knew that tone. The predator toying with his prey, giving him one final chance. It was hot. It wasn’t fair. But you weren’t so mindlessly turned on to not drop your hand to your own weapon, just in case.

The movement happened so fast you didn’t have the time to blink.

One second the man was lunging for the throne, blaster pointed at Boba…the next, he was dead before he struck the ground, a hole charred between his eyes.

Smoke curled from the barrel of Boba’s second blaster, wafting about him as he leaned back against the throne.

“Anyone else?”

Heads shook, feet shuffled away, and murmurs of shock rippled through the crowd. Not a single soul dared to raise another challenge. You watched him, unable to stop the smile from creeping to your face, as a pride for your daimyo filled your chest.

The dualities of Boba Fett were a myriad.

His helmet flicked toward you, and you felt as if your breath was caught in your throat. You were captured in his gaze, the weight of it nearly pinning you to the wall from the intensity you knew was burning in the eyes hidden behind the beskar.

“Good. As long as I am daimyo, spice has no place here.” He jerked his helmet toward the exit, gesturing at the crowd. “You’re all dismissed.”

The crowd quickly dispersed, needing no further bidding. They exited with whispers and silence, and soon, you and Fennec were the only two who remained.

“Fennec. Ensure everyone leaves the gates.” Boba hadn’t moved, still seated on the throne in all his glory. “I’ll not be disturbed.”

“Got it, boss.” Fennec needed no further bidding, shooting you a wink before lurking off into the darkness.

Silence fell so heavy, the tension so thick, you could’ve cut it with a vibroblade.

Boba was still watching you, helmet tilted slightly to the side, fingers ever so patiently tapping his thigh. You swallowed, transfixed under his gaze, nearly holding your breath with anticipation.

“Come here, little one.” His voiced rumbled through you, sending shivers down your spine. “No more hiding in the shadows.”

Your body moved to obey before your mind could fully catch up, heart hammering in your chest as you crossed the sandy floor, approaching your king. You stopped before the throne, toes bumping against the steps, regarding him with unbridled awe - dryly swallowing when he shifted his thighs further apart.

“I’ll not be kept waiting, mesh’la.” Boba patted his thigh, a teasing tone rolling through his voice. “Be a good girl.”

Kriff. You wanted nothing more than to be just that here, in this moment. You ascended the steps, gaze locked on his, furiously flushing when his hand rested against your hips, guiding you onto his lap.

“Isn’t that better, princess?” His voice was impossibly husky in your ear, rasping through the vocoder of the helmet he still donned. “Sure look like one in this dress.”

If you weren’t blushing enough before, you surely were now, pressed flush against him, dress riding far too high to be appropriate, his praise ringing in your ears.

“I…thank you, Boba,” you dared to lean forward, pressing a kiss to his visor. “I missed you.”

The way the man audibly growled at your gesture made your knees go weak. He caressed your back with effortless gentleness, even as he held you tight.

“Didn’t want to scare you. But,” he shook his head, a sigh crackling through the vocoder. “Can’t afford another coup attempt.”

“You didn’t scare me,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Trust me. Scared is not how that makes me feel.”

Boba stilled beneath you, and your eyes immediately widened.

Shit, karking dammit.

You hadn’t meant to say the last part aloud.

“And how does it make you feel, ad’ika?” His hand roved from your back to your side, then settling at your hip. “You can tell me.”

“I…” you dipped your head toward his armored chest, cheeks furiously burning. “I mean…”

“Is my little princess struggling for her words?” Boba made a tisking noise, his other hand hooking your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his hidden one. “Poor thing.”

Kriffing hell.

The man knew what he was doing to you. There was no doubt. You swallowed hard, all too aware of his closeness, heat coiling between your legs. Your current position reminded you of the last time you were in his lap, held in his clutches, desperate and wanting. You remembered his promises all too well - and you also knew he was a man of his word.

“Gods, Boba,” you knew your face was redder than the blood red accents of his armor, and given his hold on you, you only flushed further. “I…need you. Please. I’ve been good. I’ve been healing, I-“

“Easy there, little one,” Boba’s voice was surprisingly reassuring as his thumb caressed his cheek. “I’ll give you want you want. But first, I need to know.”

Know what? You frowned ever so slightly, but remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

Boba lifted a hand to his helmet and swiftly removed it, revealing the absolutely dark and hungry amber gaze you knew it was masking all along. You felt nearly boneless, even though he hadn’t done anything…yet.

“Are you ready to take this step with me? No shame if you need more time.” Boba’s face locked on you in complete seriousness, gauging your reaction. “There’s no wrong answer. Want to ensure you’re safe.”

Oh, if your heart could melt any further than it already had for him, it would. Tears risked welling in your eyes so you blinked them away, leaning into his embrace.

“Boba, you make me feel safe. I’ve never loved anyone the way I do you.” You let his gaze, lips hovering oh so close to his, as he watched you with rapt attention and a masterfully restrained hunger. “I want this. With you. You alone.”

“I’m not like those boys who couldn’t handle you, mesh’la,” his hand cupped your face, fingers gently caressing your cheek. “My love is a hunger.”

Oh, you knew. You knew exactly what you signed up for. You couldn’t help but grin.

“Then I’ll be consumed.” You bravely met his gaze, quirking a smile. “I can’t think of a better fate.”

Something altogether wild flashed in his eyes, both a warning sign and a lighthouse beacon all at once. His teeth flashed in the dark like fangs, gaze gentle but commanding as a smile curved his plush lips.

“So be it.”

You whimpered, unable to stop yourself from crashing your lips against his. You were so overcome with love, adoration, and lust all at once - demanding for you to take the initiative.

Boba let you, returning your kiss with a sly grin. He allowed you to lead. For a moment. But then you felt his gloved hand wrap around your throat, just firmly enough to hold you in place. He tilted your chin up and took over - not rough. Not violent.

Just final.

Like a king reclaiming his rightful throne. The king you always knew he was.

Your Boba.

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iamnot-crazy · 1 year ago

Text

Stowaway Chapter 11

Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Summary:

The reader is a slave to a nobleman due to her devil's fruit ability which allows her to control the emotions of the people around her. She flees to bump into Trafalgar Law and boards his ship.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

A/N: Same topics as the previous chapter but if I were to title this Chapter I would call it Robin's and Sanji's therapy session.

---

As you sit in your thoughts a new figure joins. Sanji announced his presence by offering tea to the two beautiful ladies. Robin smiled taking the cup off the tray and grabbing the other to hand to you. You curl out of your ball and nervously take the cup.

Sanji lowers himself opposite to you and Robin leaning on the railing. You sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of the impending interrogation. You didn't try to leave this time excepting your faith. Sanji pulled out his cigarette blowing out a puff of smoke, "So how are you doing now?" He asked with concern laced in his voice.

"Why are you two so concerned for me?" You finally asked as you watched the two exchange glances.

Sanji sighed, "Let's just say we both can't help but feel a tinge of familiarity." seeing him act so seriously in front of women was unusual but something about this topic brought out a rarely seen side of him.

You look down at the warm tea in front of you understanding his words. "I don't want to die… At least I don't think I do." you spoke, "I don't know what came over me. I just want to protect what I do have now."

"Regaining all your memories at once is probably not helping," Robin stated, "You have a lot to sort through."

You nod in agreeance, "Why don't you tell us what you remember to sort it out." Sanji spoke up.

You sigh, "I never lost my memories of my time before the heart pirates. My mother's death… then being sold by my stepmother into the cruel world of the auction… the time with my first master. I was forced to forget escaping and running into Law and the warmth I found with Law and the Heart Pirates. Their acceptance, their love… it helped me heal, piece by shattered piece. I miss them." You pause as you think about your crew.

"My escaped gnawed at my master, his possessiveness refusing to let me go. He eventually tracked me down connecting me with the Heart Pirates. When I revealed to Law that my master was connected to Doflamingo he was covered with fear. Law never spoke of his past with Doflamingo just that he had one and my powers told me that he was filled with an unspoken terror. To protect Law from facing the man before he was ready, I fled to Amazon Lily, the island where we took your captain after Marineford."

"Amazon Lily?!" Sanji growled, "That bastard was on the Amazon Lily!" His glare shoots towards his captain full of jealousy and envy.

"Sanji," Robin warned causing the chef to refocus on your story.

You continued your story as your mind flashed to your capture.

---

Panic pulsed through the air as the island buzzed with desperate energy and Amazonian warriors prepared for battle. A rumor that a foreign ship has been spotted outside the island struck your attention. You wanted to run toward the forming battlefield but the pirate empress herself stopped you, "No," She commanded, "Go to your room. I have a bad feeling about this battle."

You disappeared to your room as told before the foreigners forced their way onto the island. You listen closely as the foreigners force their way into the throne room of the palace where Hancock waited.

"Hello, Hancock!" The intruder greeted.

"Men are not allowed on my island Doflamingo," Hancock spoke aggressively.

"Oh, Hancock let's skip that part and make a deal warlord to warlord," Doflamingo spoke sending chills down your spine. Hancock did not give the man a response that you can sense had upset him. "I know that after the battle of Marine Fort, you aided and harbored a particular pirate a Monkey. D Luffy"

You sensed Hancock's stress grow at the mention of Luffy's name but knowing her she is hiding it well. "I don't know what you are referring to."

The man laughed, "I personally don't care about your reasoning but I think the government might. No, what I care about is the fact that Trafalgar Law was with the straw hat pirate at the time."

Your heart dropped at the mention of Law's name.

"I learned that a crew member of his has taken refuge here."

"Get off my island Doflamingo!" Hancock shouted standing her ground.

"Ah, so she is here." Doflamingo laughed, "I'll make a deal with you. I will keep your secret from the Marines if you give me the girl."

Boa did not respond and instead, you start hearing the start of a fight. You sense 5 other people enter the palace. You begin to hear the starting of a battle as the Amazons fend off the intruders. As you focus on the intruders with your Haki you almost miss your door slamming open revealing Marguerite. "Y/N we need to get you out of here!" She shouted and you nodded.

Unfortunately, her shout drew the attention of one of the intruders you sense the intruder's path changing to your room and you pull Marguerite to the ground before a cannon is shot through the door, flying over your head and destroying the wall to the outside.

You turn around to see a young woman with long black hair and a cannon for an arm. You jumped up and pulled Marguerite out of the new hole in the wall. Instead of falling down to the ground with Marguerite, you cling to the wall. "What are you doing?" She hissed from the ground behind a bush.

"keep running I'll be there in a second." You hissed back and she nodded running off making the bushes shift. The woman who attacked you walked up to the hole watching the Amazon run away. She holds her arm out to aim and you take your chance. You grabbed onto her arm and forced her to feel an intense fear. She screams and holds her head seemingly going through a mental break.

You jumped off the wall and to the ground to catch up with Marguerite. The two of you took off through the forest a more familiar land for you to hide and defend. You met up with a few more Amazons who were ready to help defend you from the intruders.

You all took to the trees shooting down any intruder with Haki-filled arrows. You also got the opportunity to use your new use for your power by coating your arrows with a mist of emotions that will cause your targets to fall to whichever emotion you filled them with. You all held your own quite well not allowing any intruders to make it far into the forest or to leave to inform their leaders of your location.

A loud boom echoed through the forest changing the tides of your fight. Above you, strings began to stretch down surrounding the island. Arrows made of string began to fall from the sky striking down the Amazons that surrounded you. They fell from the trees when they were hit and you rushed to the ground after them.

As you tended to one of the Amazon Marguerite came up behind you aiming her arrow at you. Her scream gave you enough time to dodge her attack rolling to the side. You looked at the haki-filled arrow nailed deep into the ground where you once were.

"Marguerite what's happening?!" You shout at her as she starts to cry while aiming another arrow at you.

"Get out of here!" She shouted as you shuffled to your feet you felt her fear and knew you needed to follow her words. Before you got a chance to run a hand wrapped around your ankle. You looked down to see the Amazon you were just tending to hold you in place.

The feeling of fear and confusion filled the air as all the Amazons started to stand up. They all drew their bows at you. They all shouted at you to run away before firing at you.

You shook off the hand on your ankle before you ran. Arrows flew past you not in the way that has when training but with aggression and thirst for blood.

You sent a mist of red fear in an attempt to steer the amazons away but when they ran through the mist they never stopped their chase but now showed more fear on their faces. You freeze in confusion as you watch the people you considered family for the past 8 months run at you with tears in their eyes.

In a moment of realization, you create a mist of calmness for the Amazons to run through. Their tears dried up and they looked at you in confusion as you stood in front of them no longer running from them.

You were immediately tackled to the ground and the snakes the Amazons held and boes turned into bondage. "Y/N! Why!" Marguerite cried running up behind the other Amazons not running through the mist you used to calm the other Amazons.

"I can't fight you." You sob on the ground, "You all helped me so much and I don't want you to feel guilty that something is forcing you to do this."

Marguerite cried as she was forced to punch you to knock you out.

When you woke up you were being dragged through the door of the palace with blood dripping down your chin. Marguerite was the one leading the way as the Amazons brought their prize to the Doflamingo all with stone-calmed faces except for Marguerite who had tears still falling down her face.

A chilling laugh echoed through the room as Doflamingo sprawled himself on Hancock's throne, her unconscious form lying beside him like a discarded doll. You scowl at the man when you are pushed to his feet. He reached down grabbed you by your neck and pulled you toward his face, "All of this fighting just for you." He spat in your face, "Pathetic."

You gather the blood in your mouth and spit it into his face. a vein throbbed on his forehead but he simply wiped the blood off his face with his hand and licked it off. "Oh, I will enjoy breaking you." He threw you off to the side.

He lifted his hand up and all the amazons fell uncautious being released from his control. The woman who attacked you earlier approached you holding chains which she placed on you removing the snake that was bounding you. As soon as the chains were placed on your hands you knew they were Sea Stone as you felt your energy sapping.

The man approached you grabbing you by the neck again pulling you off the floor. His eyes dart to your hip and you feel uncomfortable for the first time in the revealing outfits of the Amazon. He smiled seeing your tattoo that represented your freedom and place within the heart pirates but now felt like a target. "I see Law has placed his mark on you." he taunted.

He continued to hold you by your neck but lowered you to his ground as he dragged you out of the palace.

---

tears streamed down your face as you recalled the attack on Amazon Lily and your capture to Sanji and Robin, "At that point, I felt like I was just destined to be a tool."

Your sentence hit a cord with Sanji and Robin now understand why they both feel so similar to you.

The two waited patiently for you to continue your story. "He brought me back to Dressrosa and locked me in a cellar deep within the castle. The hardest part was when my old Master came to visit."

---

You sat in the cold cellar chained to the wall by a Sea Stone chain that locked to your neck; a full plate of food that you refused to touch hoping that at the very least you could starve yourself to death. The door creaked open and you looked up to see the figure of your old Master and his friend who had found you in a town and was your past abuser.

Fear grew within you as they approached you knowing you were stuck. You pushed yourself as far as you could into the wall in an attempt to create as much space between you as you could. Your master walked up to you with pretend worry in his eyes as he gently rubbed your cheek which was still swollen.

"What did they do to you." He complained as his eyes and fingers wandered over your figure still wearing the revealing clothing of the Amazons. When his eyes landed on your hip where his mark once sat now replaced with a heart tattoo. "What the hell is this!" He grabbed the skin of your hip causing you to yipe. He growled as he grabbed onto your cheeks, "You have no idea how kind I have been! I didn't destroy your body with a banding as everyone insisted instead I gave you a beautiful tattoo and this is what you do!" He tossed you to the side. You spit the dirt out of your mouth as you sit back up only to be kicked back down.

Your old master spits on you before whispering to his friend and leaving the room. His friend stepped forward punching his fist into his hand seeking his revenge for what Law had done to him. You noticed some features on his face were still not in the right place, his eyebrows were switched, and his thumbs were backward he looked like a Picasso piece. You couldn't help but snicker at the sight.

Smack…

You were kicked back into the wall as a punishment for your snicker.

---

Your voice cracked as you told your story and Robin pulled your head gently onto her shoulder for comfort. You sniffed away your tears, "Doflamingo would then come in and nurse me to health, he would tell me a story about how he could save me from my abusive master all I had to do was become a part of his family. At the same time, he was doing something to my memories." You instinctively rubbed the back of your neck where the strings were pulled out of your brain.

"After a week I agreed and I was made into the perfect servant for him." You hold your head blocking the expressions of the two pirates as you tear up. "One day he told me I was going on an important mission, to spy on Law."

You pull out the Vivre card that you kept in your pocket with the transponder snail you were too afraid to toss "He gave me a snail and told me he made me a Vivre card so he can come in a rescue me after my mission. and then… he gave me… his vivre card." You froze staring at the card. You thought it was a piece of your own card to give to Ceaser but it wasn't it was his card.

Sanji reached out for the piece of paper. "So this card is pointing to Doflamingo." He investigated it laying it flat on his palm and watching it point behind them.

Robin's concern deepened. "That might be helpful," she said, her voice laced with urgency. "Let's go tell the rest."

As you walk down the stairs with Robin, Law jumps up with concern upon seeing your face and runs up to you. You wipe your tears and grab his hand, "Law" your voice cracked, "I have some important information."

You pull out the snail and the Vivre card which sends Usopp and Nami into a panic as you tell Law that the snail is how you have been communicating with Flamingo and how he had made a Vivre card for you. You then tell him how this Vivre card isn't a piece of yours like you thought. It was his.

Law takes the card and looks at it carefully as it points in the direction of punk Hazard the island they just left. Law looks up to the skies and sighs with relief, "The skies are clear so he can't follow us. We should be careful from now on keeping y/n away from anything we don't him to find."

Your face turns to guilt which Luffy caught onto. "Don't worry, Y/N," His voice cutting through the tension, "by the end of tomorrow, he'll have no control over you." His words offered a sliver of hope, a promise that chased away some of the shadows clinging to your heart.

Sanji then announced himself in front of the kitchen door where he disappeared to, "Dinner is up!" The crew jumped up in excitement running to the kitchen. After the crew dispersed, you lingered behind with Law, your heart pounding in your chest.

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his warmth offering a comforting haven. Tears streamed down your face as you confessed, "I'm so sorry." Your voice trembled, filled with guilt and regret. "I should have told you sooner."

Law held you close, his touch calming the storm within you. You pulled back, your eyes searching his. "I tried to kill myself last night," you confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I didn't want him to find us. I didn't want to ruin your plans any more than I already have…" Your voice broke, the pain threatening to consume you.

"I… I didn't want to be the reason you die," you choked out, burying your face in his chest. "The whole reason Doflamingo captured me, manipulated me, was to get to you. And I… I don't want that to happen. I… I love you."

Silence descended, thick and heavy. Then, Law gently lifted your chin, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes, usually stoic and unreadable, held a depth of emotion you had never seen before.

Law wiped away your tears and placed his forehead onto yours, "I know," he said simply.

---

A/N: Wanna read more of my work check out my MasterList

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #fem!reader #writing #one piece oc #trafalgar one piece #one peice #trafalgar op #one piece nico robin #straw hat pirates #strawhats #one piece sanji

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passionateseadruid · 9 months ago

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Snake Kings Bride 11

notes: Unfortunately this will be my last chapter for a while... I need to restructure the story, figure out some personal matters, and focus on College and my dreams. I will however be posting a new mini series. Chapters will be longer and release monthly and I should be back to this in a month or two.

You felt bad for your new baby Fenrir. You and Lucifer adopted him and brought him home just yesterday and Lucifer is already being possessive over you two. He placed a strict order over the entire palace. All doors and windows were to be locked, all curtains were to be drawn. No one was allowed to leave the building much less look outside. So it was just the seven of you here today. You, Fenrir, Renesmee, Nina, Styx, Pluto, …and Lucifer.

Lucifer had been acting weird since last night when he placed the order. He promised that it would only be for today. Before he locked himself in his room.

And stayed there surprisingly… no breakfast in bed, no snuggling up to you in your sleep, no watching you from the corner of the room or from beside the bed… he was actually giving you space?

Sweet!

You hoped out of bed and got showered and dressed for the day. You may not be able to take Fenrir out with you today but that certainly doesn’t mean you can’t make his first day memorable. You dressed up an a maroon turtleneck, black leggings, and some fuzzy socks, going for a full wine-mom/soccer-mom vibe.

“It’s so weird that I’m a mom now!” You excitedly tell Nina as she escorts you to Fenrir’s new room. For some reason, last night Lucifer insisted that Nina stay posted by your side at all times today. Nina looked different today, wearing a black double breasted mundir jacket and fitted pants.

“I’m sure Hell is buzzing at the news of a new prince joining the royal family.”

“Him and I are going to have the best day ever!” You had no idea what the future held. Would you even be able to escape Hell? Could you take Fenrir with you if you can? What will happen to him if you can’t? Would you be willing to stay in Hell for him? How are the rest of the staff going to react to his presence?

“Mommy!” The young hell hound smiled and ran to you as you entered his room. Renesmee has just finished buttoning up his vest as she young pup came running to you. He was a bit plump for someone who was in a rough system like the hellhound adoption center. His fur was as white as snow, much like one would expect from a Samoyed puppy. A gray cotton vest, light blue shirt, and black pants. Renesmee wore a gray shirt and black plaid dress.

“Hello my sweet darling!” You pick him up. “Look at you! From pauper to prince!”

He giggled and hugged you. “Thank you for the new clothes mommy!”

“Of course sweetie! You’re so polite! What would you like to eat for breakfast today?” You walked toward the kitchen with him in your arms.

“Bacon and eggs!” He cheered.

You two walked into the kitchen and Pluto was glaring at you two. She wore a simple black dress that went down to her knees with a v neck cut, the sleeves were frilly and went to her elbows, and to tie it all off there was a red fabric belt nestled right under her chest. You set him down at the kitchen Island, gave a small friendly wave to Pluto, and set up some music you could listen to while you cook. The song-Baby I Love You by Random Encounters-ramped up slowly as you pulled out the carton of eggs and pack of bacon from the fridge and the frying pan from the lower cabinet. You swayed back and forth as you cooked. Not noticing that your new tot was being escorted into the parlor by Pluto as Nina watched and shrugged it off.

After about ten minutes you finally finished making the food and were ready to serve him when you saw that he wasn't there anymore. "Oh no." You started to panic. you set the food down and started to run through the various halls and rooms of the palace as Nina was hot on your tail. "Fenrir? Fenrir?! Come out sweetie!"

"Oh you're looking for the boy? He's in the parlor with Pluto." Nina finally informed you.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?!" You both ran to the parlor.

"You didn't ask me sooner. I'm a succubus, not a mind reader." She said nonchalantly, not out of breath or breaking a sweat at all.

The two rushed in to the parlor to see him transforming into a human form. His human form was again small and round, but instead of white matted fur he has short messy platinum hair, and instead of red eyes and white irises he has red irises. She looks over and sees a human woman with dark drown hair and an olive skin tone, round cheek and a beautiful curvy, plumper figure, as well as the same dress as Pluto was wearing. The two look over at you shocked.

"P-Pluto?" You stuttered as you pieced it together

She looked down bashfully and folded her hands behind her back. "Y-yes... my lady." She transforms back in shame.

She walks towards Fenrir and picks him up. "Why did you take him?"

She hesitated before you motion for her to speak her mind "I... I don't want him to be raised by a racist who only wants to use him for sport or for work!" She yelled at you, anger brewed on her face.

"I Would never! I love him with all my heart! I love all the hellborn species equally." You try to reassure her.

"Wait... really?" She seems genuinely surprised

"Yes!"

"but... his majesty-

"Is not me! I'm not like him and I never will be!" You set Fenrir down and took Pluto's hands. "I stood up to Lucifer and Charlie because of the way they treated your kind. And I'll do it again in a heartbeat..."

She looked away. "I'm sorry your highness."

"Dont call me your highness. We are equals Pluto. don't let anyone else tell you otherwise." You pulled her face up and noticed the tears in her eyes. You wiped them away and smiled at her.

She hugged you, her figure shaking slightly as you held her. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I've been so rude to you since you got here, yet you've done the one thing I've never been brave enough to do!"

"What do you mean?" You pet her trying to calm her down.

"You stood up to the king! and the princess to boot! I-I could never..." She looked at you in awe.

"Are you kidding? Pluto you the bravest and strongest person I've ever met! Plus the only reason that I'm still standing is because for some insane reason he's in love with me! But regardless... I did it because for as long as I'm here, I'm going to protect the most neglected of society."

"Really?"

"I promise." You gave her a reassuring smile. You then turned to Fenrir to see him working on a puzzle with Styx who had joined the group in favor of Nina who had disappeared. "Where's Nina? and how long have you been here?"

"She went off to go make out with her wife. And since Pluto started crying." Styx's response made Pluto stutter embarrassedly.

"Why's your hair blue? Why are your horns different? Why are you so tall compared to the other imps? Why are you so stoic and sad?" Fenrir kept asking them questions about themself as they were the only one really focused on the puzzle.

"I'll go make you three some breakfast." Pluto offered.

"Thank you but that's really not necessary." You smiled.

"I know but I'd rather be anywhere than here right now..." She rubbed the back of her head and left.

You giggled a bit and placed Fenrir in your lap. "Focus on the puzzle. It's good for a growing boys brain."

"Okay Mommy!" He happily started to jam pieces together willy-nilly.

You sighed and looked over at Styx. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course you may." They said not taking their eyes off the puzzle.

"Why is everyone wearing black today? Is it a national holiday? ...Is hell considered a nation? A region? A province?" You said that last part more so to yourself than to Styx.

"To answer your second question, Hell itself works as both a nation and a kingdom. Each ring works as a micronation or a territorial state. And within the pride ring there are nine cities-formerly called the nine circles-and each city holds subsections, usually ruled over by either an overlord or a member of the Ars goetia."

"Of yeah Renesmee told me about that. Each ring is stacked on top of each other like a cake!"

"Like a cake?" Styx raised their eyebrow at me.

"That's what she said... though, she was hungry when she told me about it..." You trailed off in thought.

"Well she's not exactly wrong." Styx shrugged.

"Can I ask you one more question?"

"Sure." They shrugged again.

You hesitated for a moment, only for a moment. "What do you know about this ring?" You showed them your ring.

"This is known as the Serpents grasp. It's said that whoever is in possession of it is doomed to have their soul devoured by the devoured by the devil himself! But that's just a false allegation. See the real story is far more interesting. See about 250 years ago a man fell in love with a beautiful woman, but she was engaged to another man so he made a sacrifice to Lucifer himself to give him charm unlike any other to woo the maiden and the girls family into giving her to him instead of her fiancé. But in exchange for this deed Lucifer demanded the first born girl of their family tree. Which was the girl you took the place of. Most believed he wanted her as a wife or a concubine. But he already had Lilith who... really only cared about the sinners of Hell instead of people like me and Pluto. Pluto had it the worst though, Lilith seemed to personally despise the Hellhounds so in the last years of her marriage to the king Lilith would often give Pluto outlandish tasks. But she got away with it because Lucifer couldn't bare to loose her..."

You looked at Styx in disbelieving, shocked by what you just heard. "But if he was so happily married why did he want the first girl from that family?"

"He wanted a nanny for Charlie." They said nonchalantly.

You were taken aback by their attitude. When you went to say something you were cut off by Fenrir handing you two puzzle pieces.

"Mommy… the puzzle is broken." His lip quivered.

"It’s not broken! It’s just that those pieces don’t go together." You searched for the correct puzzle piece. "See?" You connected the pieces and they fit together nicely.

"Mommy’s magic!" He stared at you in adoration.

You guys spent a few hours watching movies and TV shows doing puzzles while you watched. Giggling, snacking, and cuddling. Fenrir even wanted to frame all the puzzles you did together.

But it all came to a stop when Pluto cleared her throat and you, Fenrir, and Styx looked at her. Pluto motioned to the door, her and Styx gave each other a look (a silent understanding of sorts), before Pluto nodded at Styx. Pluto then took Fenrir from your lap and held him as Styx pulled you to your feet and pulled you out of the Parlor.

Through the winding labyrinth Styx lead you to Lucifers study. You don’t get why he needed a workshop, an office, and a Study. Rich people shit.

Much like everything else in the palace it was garnished with white and gold and covered head to toe in red. There were beautifully intricate book shelves. Horns and wings carved and painted into the walls and furniture. There was a beautiful curtain at the far wall satin fabric with embroidered Fleur-De-Lis on it. The curtain weren’t fully closed. A small piece of the fabric exposing the marble window.

You slowly crept closer to the window, curiosity pulling you closer with little to no resistance.

And there it was… the reason Lucifer didn’t want you to leave. The reason why he didn’t want you to look outside. The reason he locked himself in his room today. There were monochromatic angels descending from the skies. …And they were slaughtering every soul in their path…

41 notes · View notes

xuchiya · 5 months ago

Text

"everyday" || jung wooyoung || mini-series || chapter 8

|genre: non!idol wooyoung. advisor-unvercover! reader. fluff. a lil bit of humor(?) angst. violence |mentions: guns. knives. blood. a lil bit gore. anxiety attack

back to masterlist || chapter 9

The palace was a whirlwind of activity— this time something more stressful. News vans lined the outer gates, and reporters swarmed like vultures, their cameras flashing and microphones thrusting into every possible angle. The media had caught wind of the rumors, the suspicions, and now the palace was under siege. News after news broke out, each one more alarming than the last, turning the entire royal residence into a media frenzy.

Security had heightened, staff scurried about in panic, and meetings were delayed or canceled. The entire palace seemed to hold its breath, the threat hanging like a storm cloud, with every member of the Jung family at risk. Wooyoung could feel the weight of it pressing down on his chest.

Inside his room, he paced back and forth, his thoughts racing faster than his steps. He felt trapped in a maze of uncertainty, where each turn only brought more questions and fewer answers. San stood at the door, leaning against the frame, arms crossed, his eyes following Wooyoung’s every move.

“You have to let go of this thought— she’s just a new advisor. That is all.”

Wooyoung whipped around, his voice rising sharply. “No! I know you and Yunho are hiding something from me so I want to know more about Hyejin!” His words exploded in the room, loud enough to make San flinch. The sharpness of his tone cut through the thick tension that filled the space, his frustration leaking out like a dam about to burst.

San’s eyes softened, but Wooyoung was beyond caring. He took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “Who is she?” His voice trembled, but not from fear—more from the disbelief he could no longer contain. “Who is she really? Is she even working here? Does she even work as an advisor? Or is she just hiding something? What the hell is going on, San?” His eyes, wide with panic and confusion, locked onto San’s.

“This isn’t just about the threat hanging over me anymore.” San’s chest tightened, a knot of guilt and empathy coiling in his stomach. Seeing Wooyoung caught in an impossible situation—trapped between loyalty and danger—only deepened the weight on San’s shoulders. He had sworn to protect Wooyoung from every harm, both physical and emotional, yet the circumstances had turned his resolve into a painful compromise.

A feeling of something dark and heavy twisted in Wooyoung’s gut. His head ached from the barrage of conflicting thoughts, the past few months replaying in his mind like a broken record. It had all started when his mother’s voice crackled through the phone, filled with terror, begging him to protect his son—her son. He hadn’t understood then, but now, the fragments were slowly falling into place.

His hands were shaking, the weight of the moment crashing down on him. “I don’t understand!” Wooyoung choked out, his voice rising in frustration. His breath came faster now, his chest tightening. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it. It’s like... everything’s been spinning out of control, and I’ve just been too blind to see it.”

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his voice breaking. The tension in the room felt suffocating, as though the air itself had turned thick with confusion and dread. Wooyoung stopped pacing, standing still for a moment as if the weight of it all was too much to bear. His eyes met San’s—wide, desperate, seeking any answer, any clarity, even as his own mind struggled to make sense of it all.

“San... what the fuck is going on?” Wooyoung’s voice cracked with the rawness of his emotions. He wasn’t just asking about Hyejin anymore; he was pleading for answers to everything—his mother's warnings, Yeosang’s sudden changes, and the terrifying realization that his world was slowly coming apart at the seams.

San watched him closely— his childhood best friend, the usual calmness in his expression now shadowed by concern. Wooyoung wasn’t just the prince—he was a man fighting to hold on to something he was slowly starting to lose, and San knew that this moment, this unraveling, was something that would define the days to come.

With a sigh, the sound that is defeated as he moves towards his desk, sitting down as he locks his gaze with Wooyoung, “Sit down then…”

Hyejin couldn’t sleep. The same image kept flashing in her mind—the figure disappearing into the shadows, the haunting letters. It both made sense and didn’t, all at once. Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion, and the more she thought about it, the more she felt herself slipping into a state of panic.

“This whole time?!” Lia’s voice echoed sharply with disbelief bouncing around Hyejin’s room. Hyejin had her hands full of pictures and files she had sorted through all night. Lia wasn’t surprised by the history in their system, but the fact that the code pointed to Hyejin herself was unsettling. Lia knew Hyejin’s patterns—she was someone who prided herself on her focus and dedication, especially when it came to sleep.

So if Hyejin was restless, something was clearly wrong.

Hyejin’s fingers gripped the edge of the table, as if anchoring herself to something solid in the midst of the storm inside her head. She had seen those eyes before—his eyes. There was no doubt in her mind.

“I can’t say— I just saw his eyes... but I know, I know I’ve seen them before. I can’t be mistaken…” Her voice trailed off as she placed a picture on the board, her frustration mounting. She clicked her tongue in irritation, pushing the photo aside before tossing it onto the table.

“But you know who?” Lia pressed, her voice gentle but insistent. Hyejin didn’t respond, instead moving toward the other table in a daze. As she walked, her foot caught on the edge of the chair, and before she could steady herself, everything on the table went flying. Papers scattered like confetti, the noise loud in the silence of the room.

“Damn it…” Hyejin groaned as she crouched down to pick up the mess. As she gathered the papers, something caught her eye—a letter. The same letter that had been sent to Wooyoung—the one she had received the night she arrived at the palace as the new advisor. Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes were drawn to the familiar handwriting, her heart hammering in her chest. She stood, holding the letter in her hands, staring at it. Her gaze flicked back to the papers spread out on the table, the notes she’d been reviewing for Wooyoung’s next class—notes that had seemed irrelevant until now.

It clicked.

Her heart raced as she hurried to the board, pinning the letter next to the other papers. She began rummaging through the pile, pulling out the threat letter, the newspaper clippings—everything she had gathered over the past few days. She grabbed her notepad, a marker in hand, and started circling connections, writing down fragments of clues she was slowly uncovering. The more she pieced it together, the clearer it became... and yet, it was still incomplete.

“One more… One more clue…” she muttered under her breath, her eyes scanning the room for anything she might have missed.

“Hyejin?” Lia’s voice cut through the haze of her thoughts. Hyejin blinked, realizing she had completely forgotten about their call. She moved toward her phone, picking it up in a daze. “Lia, I need everything you can find about him... about his family. Right now. Please.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, a slight hesitation in Lia’s voice. “Hyejin, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I don’t have time. Just—please.” The urgency in her voice brooked no argument. Lia, sensing the gravity of her words, reluctantly agreed. “Okay, I’ll be back with everything I can find.”

As the call ended, Hyejin stood frozen, her mind a storm of disbelief and betrayal. Her hand hovered over the table, fingers brushing against something smooth and familiar. She didn’t need to look to know what it was—it was already etched in her mind as a symbol of trust, now fractured beyond repair.

Her breath hitched, sharp and uneven, as the weight of realization settled in her chest like a stone. Trembling, she picked it up, her fingers unsteady for the first time in years. The object felt heavier than it should, its meaning now burdened with betrayal.

She moved toward the board, each step dragging as though her body resisted confronting the truth. Seven months in the palace, seven months of navigating its labyrinth of politics and secrets, and yet, it still hurts. It hurt to know that someone she had trusted could be the one to point the tip of a gun at her head.

Her hands fumbled as she pinned the piece into place, the act almost mechanical. But the sight before her wasn’t just a revelation—it was a reckoning. The pieces on the board painted a picture of not just betrayal but deliberate, calculated treachery. And the person behind it wasn’t a faceless stranger or a distant threat. No, it was someone who knows who he is—his colleagues know him, his childhood friends know him.

Her lips parted in a shaky breath as her stoic mask began to crack, her emotions teetering on the edge of control. She had faced betrayal before—it was part of her job, after all—but this was different. This wasn’t just about duty or deception. It was personal.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, the tremble of anger and disbelief coursing through her. The unshakable Hyejin, the calm and composed investigator, felt her foundation faltering under the weight of it all. And for the first time in a long time, the walls she had so carefully built around herself felt paper-thin, the truth threatening to tear through them completely.

It was all connected. And in that moment, Hyejin understood something she had been refusing to acknowledge—everything was about to change.

The palace corridors were eerily silent at night, the stillness broken only by the faint hum of security cameras and the occasional echo of guards’ footsteps. Hyejin pressed herself against the cold marble wall, her heart pounding as she counted the seconds between each patrol’s pass. The weight of her discovery sat heavy in her chest, but determination burned brighter than fear.

She couldn’t let this wait until morning. Not after what she’d uncovered.

“…I’m not lying, Hyejin. His father is Joshua. Both of them are planning something. I don’t know exactly what, but it doesn’t sit well with the records either…”

The words echoed in her mind, each syllable cutting deeper than the last as she darted down the dimly lit hallway. Her footsteps were silent against the marble floor, her shadow weaving through the gaps in the pools of light cast by the ornate chandeliers above. The curfew for palace staff was strict, but that was a distant worry. This confrontation couldn’t wait.

The thought of leaving it unanswered—of letting silence and secrets continue to fester—was unbearable.

When she reached his room, she paused, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Her hand hovered over the doorknob, trembling with hesitation. A single question burned in her mind: What if I’m wrong?

Her pulse thundered in her ears as doubts clawed at the edges of her resolve. But then she thought of the months spent in the palace, the lies and shadows she had untangled, only to find herself here, at this moment. No. This is the truth. It has to be.

She swallowed hard and twisted the doorknob. It was unlocked.

The room was draped in shadow, the pale glow of moonlight spilling through the half-drawn curtains. It painted everything in muted silver, softening the edges of the ornate furniture and casting long shadows across the floor.

He was there. Sitting by the window, his back to her, his silhouette framed against the night sky. He didn’t flinch at her intrusion, didn’t turn. But his voice broke the silence, low and calm, carrying an undercurrent of something unreadable.

“I wondered how long it would take for you to figure it out, investigator Hwang.” Hyejin froze in the doorway, her breath caught in her throat. The weight of his words hit her like a tidal wave, crashing against her composure. She tightened her grip on the doorframe, her knuckles whitening as anger and disbelief surged within her.

“You knew?” Her voice was sharp, trembling with the strain of emotions she couldn’t suppress.

He turned his head slightly, just enough for the moonlight to catch the edge of his face. His profile was calm—too calm. It was the kind of calm that masked a storm raging beneath the surface. His eyes, however, betrayed him. They gleamed with something she couldn’t quite place—regret, perhaps, or resignation.

“Of course I knew, you may be the best of the best of your team but I know better.” he said quietly, his tone carrying a weight that made her chest tighten. “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

The rawness in his voice struck her harder than any confession could. Hyejin stepped further into the room, the door clicking shut behind her. The barrier between them felt heavier now, charged with tension and unspoken words.

“Waiting for what?” Hyejin demanded, stepping closer. “For me to confront you? For me to—” She stopped herself, her voice trembling with anger and hurt.

“Why, Yeosang? Why are you doing this?” He stood slowly, his movements deliberate, as if he were preparing for a blow. He sighs, “Because I didn’t have a choice.”

“You didn’t have a choice?” Hyejin’s voice rose, disbelief and frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re telling me you’ve been part of this—this game—and you didn’t have a choice? You’ve been lying to all of us!”

“I wasn’t lying,” he said softly, his gaze meeting hers. “Not about everything.”

Hyejin’s eyes narrowed. “Then tell me the truth! Right now. What are you doing here? Who sent you? And why?”

Yeosang sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was sent as a warning,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “A messenger, meant to deliver a simple truth: if Wooyoung is crowned prince, it will set events in motion that none of us can stop. War. Chaos. Something far worse than anything you can imagine.”

Hyejin stared at him, her mind reeling. “A warning? That’s it? You’ve been sitting here, watching, waiting, while the rest of us scramble to protect him from threats we don’t even understand—and all this time, you’re the one delivering the threat?”

“It’s not like that,” Yeosang said quickly, his voice tinged with desperation. “I’m not the one pulling the strings. I’m just a piece on the board, Hyejin. A pawn. If I didn’t do what they asked, they would have sent someone else. Someone far less… gentle.”

A scoff left her lips, tongue poking the inside of her cheeks, “Gentle?” Hyejin’s laugh was bitter, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, her arms gesturing around her. Something out of character or maybe something out of the ordinary of the situation. “You think this is gentle? Watching the people around you live in fear?That’s not gentleness, Yeosang. That’s betrayal.”

He flinched at her words, his mask cracking. “Do you think I wanted this?” he said, his voice rising, firm and angry. “Do you think I don’t hate myself every single day for being part of this? For not being strong enough to fight back?”

“Then fight back now,” Hyejin said, stepping closer, her voice low but firm. “Tell me everything. If you can’t help them—help me.”

Hyejin stood in front of Yeosang, “Help me stop this.” Yeosang looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and something else she couldn’t quite place. “Even if I told you everything,” he said quietly, “it wouldn’t change what’s coming.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” Hyejin shot back. “You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t do, Yeosang.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze dropping to the floor. Then, with a deep breath, he looked up, meeting her eyes. Yeosang took a shaky breath, his gaze locking onto hers. “I didn’t choose this, Hyejin. But if I don’t play my part, everything will fall apart even faster. And then… none of us will stand a chance.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of his confession hanging heavily between them. Hyejin’s heart ached with conflicting emotions—anger, sadness, confusion—but above all, a growing determination.

“Yeosang,” she said softly, stepping closer. “I don’t know how much of this we can undo, but we’re going to fight. And you—” She looked him in the eye, her voice firm. “You’re going to decide whose side you’re really on. Not as their pawn. As yourself.”

Yeosang’s lips parted slightly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, he seemed on the verge of speaking, but instead, he gave a single, solemn nod. Hyejin turned away, her mind already racing with plans. There was no time to waste—not when the stakes were this high.

Behind her, Yeosang’s voice broke the silence. “I never wanted to hurt him. Or you.”

She paused but didn’t turn around. “Then prove it.”

The corridors of the palace were eerily silent, the kind of quiet that made every small sound feel amplified. The faint glow of moonlight streamed through the tall arched windows, casting elongated shadows along the walls. Wooyoung moved swiftly, his footsteps barely making a sound on the polished marble floor.

The conversation with San replayed in his mind, each word heavier than the last.

“She’s an undercover investigator,” San had said, his voice low but firm, the weight of the revelation hanging between them. “She works with us as an agent and with Yeosang as an advisor. The moment these people find out there’s an agent inside the palace… it might put you in an even tighter situation, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung’s chest tightened at the memory, frustration and disbelief swirling within him. He groaned softly, running a hand through his hair. His mind felt like it was teetering on the edge of collapse, burdened by the weight of too many secrets, too many lies.

“She’s an investigator,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. But his mind, stubborn and unwilling to relent, pushed beyond that single, stark label. Hyejin was more than just an investigator. She was more than the advisor who had stood stoically by his side through countless trials.

And yet, he couldn’t shake the image that had been seared into his memory—the night he had seen her in a state so unlike her usual composed self.

It was a rare, raw moment. Hyejin, who was always so unyielding, had been fragile, her defenses crumbling under the weight of emotions she usually kept hidden. For the first time, he hadn’t seen the impenetrable advisor, but the woman behind the title. Her trembling hands, her distant gaze, the way her voice wavered as she struggled to hold herself together—it was a version of her he had never known existed.

That night had stirred something in him, something he couldn’t quite define. It wasn’t pity; no, it was something fiercer, more resolute. An urge to protect her, to shield her from the very world she seemed so determined to guard against.

Wooyoung groaned again, his frustration bubbling to the surface as he dragged a hand down his face. How had things become so tangled? How had she managed to weave herself so intricately into his life without him even realizing it?

His mind flitted back to San’s warning. “If they find out…”

The implications were staggering. If word got out that Hyejin was an undercover agent, the repercussions would be catastrophic—not just for her, but for him as well. The palace was a labyrinth of power struggles and hidden agendas, a place where secrets were currency and trust was a rarity.

And yet, despite the risk, despite the lies, Wooyoung found himself questioning whether he even cared about the danger. He had seen Hyejin’s resolve, her unwavering determination to fulfill her duties no matter the cost. But he had also seen her vulnerability, her humanity.

He stopped abruptly, leaning against the cool stone wall, his breathing uneven. The weight of everything—the palace’s politics, the expectations placed upon him, the tangled emotions he felt toward Hyejin—it was all too much.

“I just…” he whispered to himself, his voice breaking slightly. “I just need to know the truth.”

But even as he said the words, he knew the truth wouldn’t make things easier. If anything, it would complicate matters further. Because no matter what Hyejin’s role truly was, Wooyoung couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward her—the way she challenged him, frustrated him, and, somehow, inspired him all at once.

With a resigned sigh, he pushed off the wall and continued down the corridor, his steps slower now, each one tinged with uncertainty. The air felt heavier, the silence more oppressive, as though the palace itself was holding its breath, waiting for the moment everything would come to light.

And deep down, Wooyoung knew that moment was approaching far too quickly.

Hyejin navigated the dimly lit halls with precision, her every movement deliberate. The faint flicker of torchlight illuminated the marble walls, but the shadows cast by the towering columns seemed to stretch endlessly. Her expression remained stoic, betraying none of the whirlwind of thoughts simmering beneath the surface. She had her reasons for venturing out at this late hour, though her purposeful silence offered no clues. Like a phantom, her steps were measured, careful to avoid detection.

Her mind returned to the moment Yeosang’s suspicions were finally confirmed. It was as though a puzzle she had been piecing together for weeks had begun to take shape, yet it raised more questions than answers.

"…Each of my grandfather who works here is known as the keeper of history—not only for the Jung dynasty but for the neighboring kingdoms as well," Yeosang had admitted earlier, his voice strained with the weight of an unwanted legacy. "When my father found out about my work here…"

Hyejin had frowned, her voice soft but firm. "What did he do, Yeosang?"

Yeosang’s gaze faltered, his fingers fidgeting nervously. "He threatened me. He said he’d… disown me, bury me alive in cement if I didn’t deliver his threats to Wooyoung."

The words hung in the air like a specter, chilling her to the core. Hyejin's brow furrowed, confusion and frustration intertwining. "But why? Why would your father hate Wooyoung and his family so much? Does he have an issue with the late king? Or the current queen?"

Yeosang shook his head, his eyes flitting nervously around the corridor as if expecting the very walls to whisper his secrets. "No, not them. It’s the business."

"The shipping business?" Hyejin guessed, piecing together fragments of the rumors she’d heard.

Yeosang nodded solemnly. "My younger brother works with the shipping crew. One of the ships—one he was on—tilted and capsized. Many lives were lost."

Hyejin’s eyes widened, her breath hitching. "Your brother…"

Yeosang nodded again, his voice tinged with sorrow. "Ever since then, my father has changed. He became bitter, blaming the Jung family for the tragedy. He said their oversight caused the ship’s faulty construction."

"But still," Hyejin pressed, her frown deepening. "That doesn’t explain why your father would target Wooyoung so viciously."

Yeosang hesitated, his eyes darting once more to the shadows before leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because Wooyoung was never meant to be a prince in the first place."

Hyejin froze, her heart pounding as disbelief washed over her. "W-What do you mean?!"

Yeosang sighed, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his words. "Wooyoung is the adoptive son of the late king. He’s not of royal blood. Do you know the Jung dynasty’s historical edict—Chapter 16, Line 20?"

Hyejin’s voice was barely audible as she recited, “‘A half-blood shall not sit the throne, for only full blood may rule.’”

The realization struck her like a thunderclap. The pieces fell into place, yet one part of the story continued to gnaw at her. "So… your father’s targeting Wooyoung because he’s not a true Jung. This is revenge? A way to ruin the family? To seek justice? This is insane."

"As you put it," Yeosang said with a slight shrug, his tone resigned. "He might be. My role was only to deliver the letters. That’s all I know about his plan."

Hyejin groaned, running her hands through her hair in frustration. The truth was a tangled web, each thread more confounding than the last. The weight of it all bore down on her—Yeosang’s role, his father’s vendetta, and most of all, Wooyoung’s unspoken truths.

“When the public finds out about this, it could ruin their business and also, the Jung family could face punishment for it.”

Her heart ached at the thought of Wooyoung’s quiet burden. She could still see his face in her mind—the easy smile that often masked the turbulence beneath. And now she knows why. The real crown prince had died of an illness, and Wooyoung, the orphaned childhood friend of the late prince, had been taken in by the king. The late king had cared for him as though he were his own blood, and when the crown prince passed, Wooyoung stepped into a role he had never sought nor desired.

"Wooyoung knows his place as the prince and commoner," Yeosang murmured, breaking the silence. Hyejin looked up, her chest tightening. "That’s why he insists on being a preschool teacher whilst carrying the burden of being a prince," she whispered, her voice heavy with understanding.

Yeosang nodded, his expression softening. "He doesn’t want the throne. He’s always said he’d rather teach and care for children than rule a kingdom."

The weight of everything settled over Hyejin, but her resolve only hardened. This wasn’t just about royal bloodlines or family grudges—it was about Wooyoung, a man who carried an unimaginable burden with quiet strength. And if she could, she would do whatever it took to stand by him, no matter the cost.

A nagging thought, buried in the chaos of revelations, resurfaced with alarming clarity. She stopped breathing for a moment, her chest heavy as the thought of his father again, her posture enough to betray her usual stoic demeanor.

“Yeosang…” she began, her breath hitching slightly. “H-How does your father know me?”

Yeosang frowned, tilting his head in confusion. “By how?”

Hyejin shrugged, her gaze distant as she struggled to articulate the unease blooming in her chest. “I don’t know. At first, I thought he only knew of me because I’m working here—as an advisor. But…” Her voice faltered as her eyes locked onto his, searching for answers. “He knows something more. Something about who I am.”

The weight of her words hung heavily in the air. For the first time that night, her stoicism cracked, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath her usually composed exterior.

Yeosang’s frown deepened, his brows knitting together as his mind raced. “Are you after something?”

Hyejin’s lips parted to respond, but no words came out. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, frustration and uncertainty warring within her. She had always prided herself on staying ten steps ahead, yet this… this was a blind spot she hadn’t anticipated.

“Just the truth” she admitted quietly, her voice almost a whisper. “But if he knows something about my past—about who I really am—it could change everything.”

Yeosang’s expression shifted, a flicker of unease crossing his features. “You think he has something to do with…?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Hyejin cut him off, her tone sharper now, though not directed at him. “But if he knows something about my past, then I can’t ignore it. This isn’t just about Wooyoung anymore—it’s about me too.”

Yeosang studied her for a moment, his own internal conflict evident. “Hyejin, if my father knows something, it won’t be by accident. He’s meticulous. Every move he makes, every word he speaks—it’s calculated. If he knows who you are, it means he’s been watching you for a long time.”

The weight of his words pressed against her chest like a boulder. Hyejin swallowed hard, the realization settling over her like a storm cloud.

“I need to find out what he knows,” she said, her voice steadier now, determination replacing her earlier doubt. “And why he’s been keeping tabs on me.” Yeosang hesitated, his own unease surfacing. “You realize that means putting yourself in his crosshairs. My father doesn’t play fair, Hyejin. If you’re not careful…”

“I’ve never been careful,” she interrupted, her lips curving into a small, humorless smile. “But I don’t have a choice. If this ties back to me, I need to know.” Yeosang nodded reluctantly, sensing the unwavering resolve in her tone. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. My father… he’s not someone you can outmaneuver easily.”

Hyejin didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she took a deep breath, the weight of her decision settling fully in her chest. When she finally looked at Yeosang, her expression was unreadable, her voice steady, “I’ve been outmaneuvering people my entire life, Yeosang. If your father wants to play a game, he’d better be prepared for me to play back.”

The tension between them was palpable, an unspoken understanding passing between their gazes. Whatever lay ahead, it was clear that the threads of their pasts were far more tangled than either of them had realized.

Unbeknownst to the two frustrated souls, their paths converged in the dimly lit hallways, where shadows seemed to stretch endlessly. Both lost in their spiraling thoughts, neither noticed the faint echo of footsteps mirroring their own.

Hyejin’s mind churned with unease, her fingers brushing against the cool stone walls as if seeking some sense of stability. Wooyoung, on the other hand, clenched his fists at his sides, the storm of emotions within him threatening to boil over.

They rounded the same corner at the exact moment, colliding sharply. The impact jolted them both out of their thoughts, a sharp intake of breath escaping Hyejin’s lips as she stumbled back. Wooyoung instinctively reached out, his hand grasping her arm to steady her.

“Hyejin?” he blurted, his voice a mix of surprise and concern.

Hyejin’s hand instinctively moved to her dagger, though her grip relaxed slightly when she recognized him, her hand placed back to her side.

“Your Highness,” she echoed, her tone sharper, guarded. Her eyes narrowed as she instinctively took a step back, pulling herself free from his grasp.

“What are you doing here?” they demanded in unison, their voices overlapping. The tension crackled in the air like static electricity. Wooyoung narrowed his eyes, brushing off his robes.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Her gaze didn’t waver, her posture straight and unyielding. “Patrolling,” she replied simply. He didn’t mean to stare but the way San’s words echo inside his head made him make a quick scan on her outfit before raising an eyebrow. “In plain clothes? With no other guards around?” he shot back, his tone laced with suspicion.

Hyejin hadn’t expected this sudden interaction, least of all with the one person she had hoped to avoid. The last remnants of that night still clung to her like a phantom, a memory she couldn’t quite shake. Vulnerability wasn’t something she allowed herself to feel, but Wooyoung had seen a side of her she wasn’t ready to acknowledge, let alone confront.

Her pulse quickened for just a moment, but she willed herself to remain calm, her expression schooled into its usual impassivity. She straightened her posture, meeting his gaze head-on.

“My methods,” she began, her voice carefully measured, steady, “aren’t always conventional, but they are effective.”

The words came out firm, but beneath the surface, a quiet tension simmered. Hyejin knew she had to maintain control, to keep the walls she had so carefully constructed from crumbling any further. Even now, in the dim light of the corridor, she could feel Wooyoung’s scrutiny, his sharp eyes searching hers for something she wasn’t ready to give.

Wooyoung let out a dry chuckle, the sound low and bitter as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Drop the act, Hyejin. You’re not a real advisor, and we both know it.”

Her expression remained impeccably composed, but her hand tightened imperceptibly at her side, the only betrayal of the storm brewing within her. “I don’t know what you’re implying, Your Highness,” she replied evenly, her voice carrying the same controlled calm that had always served as her shield.

His eyes narrowed, his tone sharpening as he stepped closer, invading the space between them. “Oh, don’t play coy with me,” he said, his words laced with accusation. “I know who you really are—an investigator, sent here to infiltrate the palace and keep tabs on me. So, Hyejin,” he leaned in slightly, his gaze unrelenting, “what’s the real reason you’re out here?”

The air between them crackled with tension, his probing words pressing against the fortress of her composure. Still, Hyejin didn’t flinch, even as her heart pounded in her chest. Wooyoung’s nearness was both a challenge and a reminder of the precarious line she walked in his world.

For a moment, the tension between them hung in the air like an unspoken challenge. Hyejin’s eyes locked onto his, her stoicism as unyielding as ever. Finally, she broke the silence, her voice calm yet laced with an undertone of weariness. “And how long have you known, Your Highness?”

“Not long,” Wooyoung admitted, his tone quieter now, though it carried an edge. “But long enough to question everything.”

She held his gaze, her expression unreadable. “The answer is simple. I was assigned to ensure your safety. My role hasn’t changed.”

His frustration bubbled to the surface, spilling into his voice. “And yet, you’ve been lying to me the entire time. How am I supposed to trust you when you can’t even trust me with the truth?”

Her posture remained rigid, her gaze steady. “I have never failed in my duties. That should be all that matters.”

“It’s not,” Wooyoung shot back, his voice cracking slightly as the vulnerability he rarely showed seeped through. “Not to me. You’re not just some advisor to me, Hyejin. You’re someone I’ve trusted—someone I thought I knew. And now I’m standing here, realizing I might not know you at all.”

A flicker of something—guilt, maybe—crossed her features, but it was gone before he could grasp it. “You know everything you need to know, Your Highness,” she replied, her tone firm but quieter now. Wooyoung let out a bitter laugh, his hands clenching at his sides. “Do I? Because right now, it feels like I’ve been walking blind, trusting someone who’s been keeping me in the dark.”

Her jaw tightened slightly, a crack in her otherwise impenetrable armor. “You’re overthinking this,” she said, her voice steady but lacking its usual edge.

“Maybe I am,” he conceded, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “But can you blame me? All this time, I thought you were my ally, someone who had my back. And now I find out you’ve been sent to watch me, to investigate me.” His voice softened, but his words carried the weight of his disappointment. “Was any of it real, Hyejin?”

Her silence stretched unbearably between them, but her stoic facade didn’t waver. Yet, deep in her eyes, there was a flicker of something—remorse, hesitation, or perhaps a truth she wasn’t ready to voice.

Finally, Wooyoung sighed, the tension in his shoulders softening just enough to reveal the toll of their conversation. “Look, I don’t care who sent you or why. I just need to know—are you on my side? Or am I just another mission to you?”

For the first time, her voice dropped to a softer, almost vulnerable tone. “I am on your side, Your Highness,” she said, each word deliberate. “Always.”

His gaze searched her face, desperate for a sign, a crack in her armor that would reassure him. Slowly, he nodded, though his expression remained troubled. “If you’re really on my side, trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

Hyejin inclined her head, her calm voice returning. “When the time is right, you’ll know everything.”

“Right,” he muttered, his frustration barely veiled. “Because that’s supposed to comfort me.”

She stepped aside, her movements precise and composed. “It’s late, Your Highness. You should return to your chambers.”

Wooyoung hesitated, his gaze lingering on her as if searching for something more. Finally, he turned, his steps echoing softly as he headed towards the garden instead. If he retreats to his room, he might not be able to get a wink when his head is full of overwhelming truth.

“Goodnight, Hyejin,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“Goodnight, Your Highness,” she replied, her tone unshaken.

As his silhouette disappeared into the shadows, Hyejin remained motionless in the corridor, her stoic mask firmly in place. But beneath it, doubts churned, and questions she couldn’t yet face lingered in the corners of her mind. Interrupting

taglist: @chngbnwf . @passerbyforfun

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #wooyoung ateez #ateez wooyoung #ateez jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung ateez #jung wooyung #ateez wooyoung series

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vanfleeter · 4 months ago

Text

Alora: Chapter 3

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Alora Word Count: 2.8k Warnings: 18+ || Language. Angst. Frustration. Brother banter. Self doubt. Mentions of death. Nervousness. Fear. Panic. Fluff. Painful flirting. Jake falling in love. (as always, let me know if I missed anything so I can add it to the list)

Jacob tried multiple times after that to try and meet Alora in the library, but each time he would enter the room she was gone, hiding within the many stacks of books. He had wondered what he could have already done to frighten her. He once tried to have books brought to his room, hoping she would be the one to do so. He was right but by the time he got to the door of his bedroom, she was already fleeing around the corner, only the corners of her dress were visible to him.

This may just be harder than he thought. He had the idea of sneaking into the library but then he came to realize that that truly would frighten the poor woman. But how else is he supposed to meet her? She doesn’t even come down to dinner, dinner is brought to her.

“She’s a hard worker,” Joshua praises her. “Though I wish she would take a moment to herself.”

“She had always been like that, your majesty,” James says. “Even more so after her father passed away.” Jacob grabs his chalice and takes a drink as he listens to James talk about Alora. “She loves the library, it’s basically her safe haven.”

Jacob slightly rolls his eyes. The library seems to be her safe haven until he enters it and then suddenly she’s gone, hiding wherever she can until he is gone.

“Do you have a comment, Jacob?” Joshua calls to him from the other end of the table.

“Hmm? Me?” He shakes his head and sets the silver chalice back down on the table as he straightens up in his chair. “I do not have a comment.”

“Well,” James says as he stands from the table. “I do appreciate the wonderful dinner prepared for us tonight and it was delicious. I do think now that I will head into the kitchen and have a plate prepared for Alora.” He gives his respectful bows to each of the princes and the king before leaving the table and exiting the dining hall.

Once he is gone, Joshua leans forwards on the table, folding his hands in front of him as he does so. “Explain yourself,” He says, directing his attention to Jacob. “What was the meaning behind your eye roll? Do you not enjoy having Alora in the palace?”

“It is not that I do not enjoy having her here, she has given me no reason to. However, she has also not given me a chance to speak with her. It is as if I have frightened her and I do not know how. Whenever I enter the library, she disappears and hides from me.”

“Well you do have quite the intimidating presence,” Samuel speaks up from his place at the table.

“I am not intimidating, am I Joshua?”

Joshua shrugs his shoulders. “Well…”

Jacob huffs and stands from his chair, the feet of it scraping loudly against the marble flooring. “Then I must prove to her that I am not intimidating, but that I am kind.”

“Kind?” Samuel questions before throwing his head back in laughter. “You are only kind when you are visible to the public, but you are just downright mean sometimes.”

“If you did not always antagonize him, maybe he would be kinder to you,” Joshua simply suggests as he leans back in his chair.

“Well I am the youngest child,” Samuel says. “Is it not my duty to antagonize every now and then?” Jacob grumbles incoherent words under his breath as he turns away from the table and leaves the dining hall.

How can he prove to Alora that he is kind if she does not let herself be in the same room as him? After looking into her eyes the other day, he has been needing to prove to himself that she simply cannot be the woman he had danced with at the ball, but her eyes haunt his mind just as the other woman’s does too. His mind just cannot match them so he has to see for himself who Alora really is. He can only hope that she may be the mystery woman. Something about her just draws him to her and the chase she sends him only thrills him even more.

His feet carried him through the long halls of the palace and up a flight of stairs to the second floor and back down that hallway in the opposite direction of his own living quarters. He comes to a stop in front of the quarters that were assigned to Alora. She had quite a space and he knew this area all too well, for it used to be where his mother lived herself. A formal living room with a large fireplace. Framed arts littered nearly any open space on the walls. His mother was an art enthusiast. Sometimes she painted herself but mostly she would buy paintings from other artists. On the other end of the living space was the bedroom. He remembered as a little boy thinking her bed was so massive, as if he were laying on the ocean, that is how big he thought it was. It slowly shrunk down in size as he grew older and bigger.

The last time he had been here was when she was sick. He hardly ever left her side then. Out of all of his brothers, he was Mama’s boy. He took it the hardest when she passed from her illness. Sometimes he wonders if that is the reason why he has closed himself off from interacting with women. Could it be the fear of loving them and then losing them to something so horrible that holds him back? He could not put himself through the tragic demise of someone else that he may also care so deeply for. This mystery woman, and now Alora, have him believing that there might be something out there for him. Maybe it’s one of them, should they not be the same person.

What an idiot he will feel if they are to be the same person this whole time and he just could never know it.

He raises his hand to knock on the door but hesitates. Would she even open the door for him?

Little did he know she was not inside of her room, but instead hiding in the shadows at the far end of the opposite hallway. She stood behind one of the ceiling to floor pillars, peeking out just enough so that only she could see him but he could not see her. She watches him as he raises his hand once more and tries to knock but decides against it. She hears him talking to himself in a hushed voice as he runs his hands through his hair.

Sliding against the pillar, and still hiding herself in the shadows, she quickly and quietly opens the door beside her and slips into the bedroom side of the living space. She makes her way through the room and into the living room. Maybe he will still be there standing by the door, deciding if he should knock or not.

Being in such a rush to make it to the door out of sheer curiosity, she doesn’t even see the table lamp in front of her before she collides with it and sends it crashing to the floor. She stands absolutely still in her spot, staring at the now broken lamp on the floor and listening carefully for any movement or sound from the hallway.

“Alora?” He calls through the door. She closes her eyes and exhales quietly. “Alora, are you okay in there?” He jiggles the handle only to find out that the door has been unlocked this entire time.

Alora begins to panic and quickly disappears in the bedroom. “Alora?” She hears him call again. The sound of ceramic scraping the floor indicates to her that he is examining the broken lamp.

“I am alright, your highness.” She finally speaks, drawing him to the door of the bedroom. “My apologies, I did not mean to worry you.”

“Are you sure you are alright?” He asks through the door. “Did you cut yourself?”

“No, I did not,” She says. “I promise I am alright. There is no need for you to stay.”

It was quiet for a moment and she was sure that maybe he had left. She in fact was wrong as he spoke up again. “May we talk?” He asks. “I’ve been trying to talk to you ever since you came here with James, but I fear that I may have frightened you somehow. I would like to apologize if I have. I do not mean to.. My brother, Samuel, says that sometimes I can be intimidating, and I am sorry if that is how I may have unknowingly presented myself. I promise you, I am not like that. I can be kind and gentle and I can show you that if you’d allow me to.”

It was quiet again and Jacob wondered if maybe he had spoken too much, or if she simply stopped listening and he was only talking to a door.

“You do not frighten me, your highness.” She says.

“May I ask why you keep hiding me from me then? Running from me when I come to the library?”

“I just do not feel comfortable with you seeing me..” She says. “I am afraid that if you were to know what I look like, you would not like me.”

“Why would I not like how you look?” Jacob asks. “Do you have only one eye like a cyclops? I swore I saw two just the other day beneath your winter scarf.” He hears her giggle and he smiles. “I am glad that did not offend you.”

“I will have you know that I am human and that I do in fact have two eyes.” She responds.

He chuckles. “Please come out then. I promise I will be kind regardless of how you may look.”

She grew quiet again before speaking a moment later. “No..”

“Alora..”

“I am sorry, your highness, but I am just not ready..”

“When will you be ready?”

“I do not know yet.”

He sighs. “Okay. Will you tell me when you are?”

“I will.”

“So I guess that until then, we can keep speaking through the door?”

Alora giggles again. “That would be okay.”

So through the door they spoke to each other. He maintained his distance from the library, only requesting to have books delivered should he want them. Every night he’d wait for her to return to her living quarters and close the door to her bedroom and then he would step into the living room and move the chair over to relax by the door as they spoke.

“You’ve never ridden a horse before?” Jacob asks in curiosity.

“I am afraid not,” Alora responds. “My father always used to tell me that ladies should never ride horses. So.. I never did.”

“You respect your father.” He states.

“I do.. After my mother’s death, he and I grew closer and I grew to respect him more. I realized that he’s only been trying to shape me into a woman that a man would want to marry.”

“I think he has done a wonderful job in doing so,” Jacob says as he rests his head against the wall beside the door.

He hears her scoff before she responds. “Take no offense, your highness but you cannot have an opinion on me when you barely even know me.”

“James has been telling us about you,” Jacob says. “And from the stories he shares, you seem like a respectable woman. One who is independent and headstrong. You do not need a man to complete you but rather a partner to stand beside you and support you.”

“You are right, I do not need a man. I am fully capable of caring for myself. Though what man would want to be my partner is beyond me. I was taught men are the heads of the household and that their wives are simply there to tend the house and bear their children.”

“Do you not want children?” He asks.

“Of course I want children. A lot of them if I am so blessed.. I grew up as an only child and it was lonely.. Besides James, I had no other friends.. I do not want my child to be the same. I want a big family so no one ever feels left out.”

“You have a beautiful soul,” Jacob says. “I have never met a woman who cares so deeply.. Though if I’m being honest, I have not met a woman in a very long time.. Up until recently.. I had promised myself years ago that I would never fall in love or even dare to look at a woman with love in my eyes. But then the ball came around and I met this beautiful woman.. Everyone there made comments that she was this witch and she had probably spelled me into dancing with her, but it was not that. When our hands touched, it felt like she was the one who would teach me how to love again and I hate to admit it, but I have indeed fallen in love with her–and I do not even know who she is..”

It was quiet and Jacob thought to himself that he may have spoken too much.

“I apologize, sometimes I tend to ramble when I am passionate about something.”

“That is quite alright,” She responds. “I like listening to you talk.” It grew quiet again before she spoke up once more. “It is getting late, your highness, I must be off to bed now.”

“May I come back tomorrow?”

“I would love for you to come back.”

Jacob couldn't help himself but to smile. Could he be falling for Alora instead without having fully met her yet? Standing up from the chair, he exchanges his goodbye before heading out of her room.

“Oh my god…” Jacob nearly jumps with fright and spins around to see Joshua. “Are you and her…”

“What? No. No!”

“So you’ve seen her?”

“No..” Jacob sighs. “Working on it..”

“Does this mean you’re not looking for your mystery woman anymore?” He asks. “Or is she.. Is she?”

Jacob shrugs his shoulders. “I’m still looking for her.. I do not know what to do, Joshua.. I-I have fallen in love with that woman but.. But I am also feeling the same for Alora. It has only been a few days since we have established this arrangement but somehow she makes me feel happy.”

Joshua sighs. “I do not know what I can say to help you, brother. I have never been in this kind of situation before–but I will say this. Follow your heart. Where is it leading you?”

“To both of them.”

“Oh boy…” Joshua sighs again. “Okay.. Here is what I will say.. Pursue Alora.. You obviously have not found this woman you danced with at the ball and she has not made herself known–I fear she may not want to be found. I do not know that woman anyways, but I do know Alora. She is kind and sweet, beautiful too, might I add.”

“I wouldn’t know..” Jacob grumbles. “She is still hesitant.”

“Give her some more time,” Joshua says. “Let her come to you. You cannot rush love.” He pats Jacob’s shoulder and smiles. “I would approve of a marriage between you and Alora in a heart beat.”

Jacob scoffs. “Now who is rushing love?”

Joshua laughs and shrugs his shoulders. “What can I say? I love love.” He says before walking away.

Dear diary,

I am still struggling to find some headway with Alora. She still hides behind her bedroom door. I have given her space, made sure to only go to the library when she has gone. I long to be with her and not apart from her. I long to see what she truly looks like. I have been trying to keep the memory of her eyes locked in my mind but it is becoming harder and harder to keep the image clear now.

She says she is afraid to show me who she is, afraid that I may not like her as I claim that I do. I do not like her, that is true. No, I am in love with her. I know I probably should not be. I still have yet to find the mysterious woman. Can it be possible to love two people at once? Or will that only end in me with a broken heart? I fear I will not be able to survive another one. Not after Mama died.

Her mask taunts me every night I go to bed, always reminding me that she is out there somewhere and I have yet to find her. I just wish she would come to me. There is another ball that will happen in two days. I can only hope she will come to this one and we can dance again and I can finally know who she really is. Though secretly I hope Alora will come too.

I am torn between two women and I do not know what it is that I am supposed to do.

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