#win matrimony | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rippersz · 1 year

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𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍

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(DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT) (TW: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, slight glorification of both, gore, toxic love, smutty/suggestive themes, etc.) (Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader)

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“To love someone is firstly to confess: I’m prepared to be devastated by you,” ~ Billy-Ray Belcourt

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You found a place.

It’s risky. It’s crazy. It’s fucking mad.

But you found it.

And it’ll work. If you’re quick, quiet, sleek, smart - it’ll work.

You leave the other shoe behind, somewhere in a random hallway near the botany classroom, tipped onto its side just like the first one. It’s forgotten as soon as you turn away and stalk down the left corridor, mind set on nothing but the spot that you imagine.

It may not even be there honestly, but that’s okay. A shot in the dark. There will be other places. What time is it? You don’t stop to look at a clock. You can’t. She may be around here. She may be watching. She may be waiting.

Just go. Just go. Just go. You know where. Just go.

Every teacher at Nevermore has a master key. It’s uncommon- different to normie schools where teachers only have keys to their own classrooms- but it’s a safety precaution. If a young outcast, unfamiliar with the environment, lashes out or has an issue and is trapped in a place unreachable by anyone but a certain adult, there could be consequences. Larissa put the master key rule in place. Larissa was kind enough to think of the students. Larissa made it possible, ironically enough, for you to hide during your game of hide and seek- and win.

You’re going to win.

You slide the golden key into the lock, slide it out again, and you know you’re going to win. You turn the handle and open the door, slowly slowly slowly- there’s no creak at all- and you know you’re going to win. You walk into the dark and you know you’re going to win. You close the door behind you again, slowly slowly slowly- there’s no creak at all- and you know, you just know, you’re going to win.

You’ve never been here before. You don’t know anything about this place. You wouldn’t dare to step into it on any other day, never alone and never without an invitation, but she never gave you boundaries. The predator never confirmed the walls of play. The predator never told you not to cross the line.

And being the excited, nervous, scared little lamb that you are, you jumped over it. Grasped the chance to outsmart the wolf. The tiger. The lion. The bell.

You take a few terrifying seconds to let your eyes adjust. The dark is consuming. The silence is thick. Ringing. So loud. The absence of life. Nothing but you breathes within this space. Within this den.

They always say the abused returns to the abuser. They always say the best place to hide is in the seeker’s home.

Well you’re in the seeker’s home.

And everything’s quiet.

And as you stand there, chest slow with breath and eyes quickly blinking to adjust to the dark, you can’t help but think about how lovely it would be if you could walk in there with a smile on your face and a bouquet of roses in your arms.

“My love! I’m back! Where are you?”

“In the bedroom, darling!”

And the space would smell like garlic and spices and simmering butter and there’d be the soft sound of socked feet padding into the open-plan living room and kitchen and nothing but a smile, silk pajama pants, and a bra would greet you. Lips stained with the leftovers of rose-colored rouge, the palest eyelashes, brows, and hair on display without makeup. Platinum locks a little messy and half untangled. She’d be interrupted during her nightly routine while dinner cooked on the stove; a pin or two held in one hand and nothing but love and a golden ring of matrimony in and on the other.

“Oh… What’s the special occasion?” And she’d give you the most sinful smirk while she grasped the collected stem of roses from your hand and used her grip to tug you closer.

It would draw every bit of sense from your head. It would make you blush and smile so hard you’d get dizzy.

“I just wanted to treat you. You’ve been working so hard,” and it would come out as a shy whisper and a look of utter softness would pass over her features before she’d bring you as close as she could.

“Thank you, my sweet girl,” and then you’d kiss her so slowly- so beautifully- that you wouldn’t be able to believe your luck.

And the timer on the stove would choose that second to beep. And then she’d tug herself away and waltz over to the kitchen, leaving you to put your coat up on the stand and your shoes in the closet beside the front door.

“What did you make, love?” You’d call, eagerly setting your purse down on the living room couch before charging into the kitchen.

And she’d be busy already taking out a vase from a cabinet somewhere, filling it with water, using the other hand to toss whatever it is that was cooking to perfection in the pan.

“Roasted vegetables, potatoes, and a new spin on fried rice. Does that sound alright with you?” And she’d give you a smile over a pale shoulder and you’d want to rush forward and ravage her within an inch of her life - but you’d stay still, lean against the island, and nod. Of course it would be alright with you.

“Sounds delicious!” And she’d hum in happy agreement as she puts the pan down to pull out kitchen scissors and start tending to the roses.

And then you’d help with dinner and you’d sit down together and she’d disappear to put a shirt on and you’d frown and say ‘whyyyyyy?’ and she’d swat you on the shoulder with a playful smile and then you’d have your home-cooked meal and it would taste just as good as it smelled and everything would be perfect and right and there wouldn’t even be an ounce of meat within 50 feet of you and there’d be no mention of murder or cannibalism or anything of the sort.

And it would be lovely. A dream. Warm candlelight on her face. Curled hair brushing the tops of her shoulder blades. A sweet palm reaching out to curl around your own. The deepest most beautiful nothings whispered in between bites.

A world of utter bliss.

…

But the bell still tolls, doesn’t it?

Even there.

Even in that world.

It tolls. Even in that salvation, it echoes. Coming for you. Hungering for you. Hers forever. The matching rings say so.

And there’s no bouquet in your hand anyway.

And there’s no smile on your face anyway.

And there’s no warmth in the room you stand in.

And it only smells vaguely of Larissa’s perfume and that unique scent that all spaces of living seem to have. And there’s really nothing for you here at all, is there? Even in the dark, when your eyes finally become familiar with the slightest outline of certain objects- even then, you know you are an intruder and not a guest. You know you are not welcome, even though Larissa would surely love to have you there with her. But only under her authority. And only with her by your side. So you can’t go snooping. So you can’t find real evidence of what she is.

What she does.

The lives she ends.

Does that make her a monster perhaps?

Does all of that red make her a murderer instead of a woman in need of food? Of survival? Does the harvesting of organs make her a sinful thing only deserving of death?

What makes her different from a mother lion catching food for her babies?

What makes her different from a hungry animal dashing through the underbrush?

Does lipstick, hairpins, perfume, and clothing set her aside? Does having a conscious aid in a lack of sympathy? Is she merely returning to base instincts and taking taking taking what she truly desires?

Why do you hate something that does not affect you?

Why do you fear her when you are not the victim?

You haven’t gotten around to asking her why you’re so special. You haven’t told her that you’re confused and that you’d like to know quickly because it’s been keeping you up and driving you mad. Is it because you fear her answer? Is it because the unknown depths of her interest make you feel far more special than they should?

Is it because you don’t want to give in?

You want to resist?

What makes her different from the outcasts that have conquered entire regions? From the outcasts that tried to dismantle the world?

What makes her… better?

Is it because of her status?

Her grace?

Her achievements?

Or is it because sometimes- sometimes- you find yourself glancing at her out of the corner of your eye and seeing the face of a woman you want with all of your heart?

Or maybe it’s because sometimes you think you can love her. Even as the monster she is.

—

Larissa finds herself quite bored when you’re not around.

Where has her little lamb gone? Where has she disappeared to? The pretty thing left her shoe behind. Silly lamb. The predators never fall for decoys. But she did have to hand it to you - what a good distraction. Only to honor your intelligence did she dip into the room, take a look at all of the available hiding spots, and walk out of the office with a small smirk on her face. Of course she knew you weren’t there, but that didn’t matter. She had time.

As she rounded the corner of an intersection, taking a glance down all three of the halls before her, she brought a wrist up to check her watch.

10:19, the little mechanical hands spelled. 26 minutes.

26 minutes and you’re all hers.

26 minutes and you can have the sweetest dinner of all time. The most romantic.

26 minutes and you can see she’s not mad. She was just born to be as she was.

The hands tick.

Larissa flicks her wrist down and stalks forward. There’s no time for dilly-dallying. If she could cut it down to 15 minutes, 10 if she’s feeling daring enough to start jogging, then that would be even more time spent in your company. Perhaps you could go over the plans for the meal. What other sides would you like with your meat, she wonders. Are you a savory person? Or sweet? Oh and dessert- she has to start thinking about that as well. Are you allergic to anything? She makes a mental note to ask - and nearly misses the black wedge left carelessly in the middle of the floor.

A light eyebrow raises.

“Oh?” Her voice is a velvet murmur; tinged with surprise and interest.

She expected you to keep the other shoe. The office was a clever idea, indeed, but anything beyond that would be overkill. She blinked, taking in the black felt and raised heel. Obviously, you disagreed.

No.

You wouldn’t just do that.

Not on purpose. There was no point to it. She already knew your shoes were off - and you wouldn’t hide near a breadcrumb she so readily consumed…

It must have been dropped in a rush.

An idea had struck you. And you left the shoe on its own, all too eager to win.

She turns her head, taking in the hall. You left it near the botany and biology wing. There’s not many places to hide in those classrooms. It’s mainly equipment, plants, open spaces for demonstrations and hands-on learning. She tilts her head, imagining you running off in an uncertain direction, finding yourself spooked by staying in one place for ‘too long’. Like Cinderella leaving her beloved slipper behind. For the big bad cannibal to find.

She hums, taking the time to waltz in a circle around the shoe before deciding to crouch. Pale hands slide beneath her, smoothing out the dress to slope against her knees. Now if she observes the shoe, a simple object yes but one that can give you away with ease… if she imagines the strap of it hanging from two of your fingers… or resting like a comfort item within your arms, held close to your chest… she can picture you dropping it. Or placing it. But with no particular purpose in mind if not to just leave your hands empty. Free to use. To be stealthy. Wherever you tottered off to, you needed to be extra quiet. She tilts her head. The heel of it, made from a strange pale wooden material that the typical ‘wedge’ seems to be made of, faces the corridor to her right. And the toe of it points to her. Many shoes, she’s observed over a long period of time wearing her own, tend to fall on their sides when they’re plonked down. And many of them tip toward the edge that is ‘heavier’. For a wedge with a slope, like yours, the part of the shoe that holds the majority of your foot- the last three toes and the flatter part of the sole- is higher than the rest. So it’s heavier. Unless it was knocked off balance beforehand.

She lets out a quick ‘tsk tsk tsk’ and shakes her head.

Right. Well. To retrace her steps; she came from the left, near the teachers quarters. But while she was there, she didn’t hear anything. Not even a creek.

So you must have gone to the left of that - which would be forward if you ran down the hall to her right.

With a nod, she finally stands.

She’ll check down there first, and if it’s quiet and still, she’ll double back to look for her lamb.

—

Your original idea of hiding under the kitchen sink turned out to be a bust. The space there was full of cleaning supplies. Rubber gloves, bleach, plastic bags - you wrenched your hand away with a grimace once you pictured what she’d done with those things. What messes she’d cleaned.

What footprints of her own she had to hide. Wash away. Get rid of.

Yeah. Under the sink was no good. And the kitchen was wide open anyway; if she thought to check her quarters, she’d go there first.

After you stand up and let out a sigh, only one other place comes to mind.

Larissa must have a big closet.

She always looks so gorgeous. Her clothes are designer - her shoes are rarely worn twice in the same week - her accessories change in the blink of an eye. So many things to adorn her body. So much space to keep those things.

It’s hard enough to move around in the dark with no aim, but when you’re looking for something, it’s far worse. There’s a sudden panic that exists. A sudden desperate hurry.

Need to hide before she comes. Need to go go go, otherwise the doorknob is gonna turn and she’s gonna walk in and it’s all gonna be over and it can’t be over I have to win I have to win I have to win I have to win I have to win-

Finally, you go stumbling into an open room. The floor is hardened wood beneath your feet, the air smells heavily of Larissa’s perfume, and there’s a lightswitch on the wall near your shoulder. It’s a bad idea to turn it on - a very bad idea - really it could put you in immense jeopardy - but if you do it quickly, if you do it just so you can see where the closet is (assuming it’s her bedroom after all), then you may have a chance to hide amongst the clothing. Or somewhere else. Anywhere could work, really. So long as you’re hidden.

“Okay,” you mouth to yourself, nodding at no one in particular, gathering the courage to place one hand on the lightswitch and flick it on.

Two seconds.

One.

Two.

A swift glance- scan- then it’s off- and you’re turning to your right, having seen the open closet door out of the corner of your eye. In your nearly blind haste, you smack your shoulder against the wood of the doorframe and let out a surprised hiss. It hurts, instantly, like a motherfucker - and you grasp your arm and close your eyes and press your lips together hard to hold in a whimper. Hopefully the bone hasn’t been knocked out of its goddamn socket. Though even if it was, it wouldn’t matter. You can’t exactly call for help now, can you? And there’s no one to run to. And there’s nowhere to go. And the only other person in the general vicinity is currently the same person hunting you down.

The bell never stops tolling. Not even for an injured lamb.

So no matter what you do, you’re gonna have to deal with the dull, bruising ache. It spreads from your shoulder out, but that doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You need a hiding spot. It’s the greatest priority. The very thing that will (hopefully) save you.

And sure you’re not being murdered. She’s not going to slaughter you. But for some reason, that’s all you can picture her doing once she’s caught you. Slicing a knife through the butter of your throat and spilling the rich of your blood onto the floor. Watching it seep. Finding it oddly beautiful. And then honoring your body by consuming it. Drinking it out of your veins. Searing the sweet flesh of your thighs. Or your arms. As you duck into the closet, covering yourself in darkness, you wonder briefly what part of the human body is her favorite. She’s never told you. Perhaps she never will.

…Unless she wins.

No. She’s not going to win because you’re going to win. You have no choice.

Right. No choice. Of course.

You move your hand and press it to the wall, feeling around for another lightswitch. As soon as you find it, you figure the quick-flick method could work again. She’s less likely to see it since the closet is facing away from the entrance and it will only be for a second. Yeah, just a second. Yeah… just a second. Or two.

Click.

One.

Two.

And it’s off.

You scanned as quickly as you could, trying hard not to get stuck on the many beautiful garments that lined the hangers on all sides. A very tall full-body mirror, lined in a golden frame, leaned against the far left wall, and there was a big white poof in the center of the room, and once you look up, taking only a millisecond, you see- ah.

In the short amount of time that you have to look, you spot a shelf that runs around the entire perimeter of the room. It’s just above the hangers, separating the clothing from the space above it. There’s things on the shelf- shirts, pants, and even a few handbags, but the smile that spreads onto your face only grows at the sight.

If you find a way to get up there, then the game is yours. Yours completely. You can win without a doubt.

The cards are on the table. Take the money, lamb. Take it now.

—

You’re nowhere here and she’s starting to get frustrated.

Her sweet girl couldn’t have gone far. You don’t know all of the access points to the roof; and it’s hard to go out into the woods - especially when it’s raining. And uncomfortable. And cold. You wouldn’t be that silly. And she knows that you know that she’d check the Nightshade Library. So you wouldn’t hide there. And the children’s dorms…. Well she hopes you know better than to covet yourself within their private spaces. Yes, that was a line neither of you would cross.

So where else was there to go?

Where else was there to sneak away to? What other place could you possibly dare to-

…….oh.

She stops in the middle of the corridor.

Oh.

Oh darling.

Oh lamb.

You’re where you’re not supposed to be, aren’t you?

Clever. So clever.

Always running right beneath her nose. Just out of sight. Waiting for her to get impatient and snatch you up.

She continues forward, remembering a notch in a nearby wall that triggers an entrance to the stone labyrinth that rests within Nevermore’s hallowed halls. The students don’t know of it. The staff doesn’t know of it. There's joy found in the most hidden thing. Her school, her secrets. Her game, her rules. Her advantage. She will win.

The path opens. The door slides closed. The torches light themselves.

Dearest lamb… sweetest lamb… you were tense with worry and intrigue when she last saw you. Dashing off into the beauty of her home, only to wind up within the epicenter of everything you’ve come to find is most harmful. Most complex. Most toxic. But humans have never been very good at taking care of themselves. So close to wires, to bleach, to the rot of the universe that they die from their own silly mistakes on the daily. And there you are, her darling lamb, running head first into danger. Don’t you know you’re not supposed to. But honestly, if anyone were to ask, Larissa would say she didn’t mind. And she doesn’t. Of course it’s no surprise that you don’t believe her words. That you don’t think she’s capable of ‘giving it up’. And she’s not. She isn’t. But you don’t have to know that. She’ll leave you in suspense, and when the moment is right, she will win.

It will hurt to see your shock. And your pain. But it must be dealt with, no? You agreed to her terms - and so you will face the consequences.

Sweet loon… why do you punish yourself for your own desires?

—

How the fuck are you gonna make it up there?

You’ve tried jumping, reaching, grasping - all with no result. To be fair, the shelf is very high. But it seemed sturdy when you saw it earlier. And if you got onto your hands and knees, you could most likely make it. Unless the time runs out.

You’re too nervous to feel your way back into the kitchen just to get a glance at the clock so you resort to flicking the light back on in the tiniest intervals. It doesn’t really help but it, at least, finally, tells you that there’s a ladder in the closet. Standing against the far right corner, hidden in the shadows, is a step stool with quite a few levels.

Seems even the tallest of cannibals need a little help reaching their designer bags.

You peel it away from the wall slowly, holding it tight, and move backward in the dark. There’s no ideal place to put it, but you figure the farther away from the door the better. Just in case she finds you out, she probably won’t notice the ladder so far into the back of the closet. So you keep it near where you found it and take the steps one at a time.

The only sounds in existence are your breathing, the shift of your clothing, and the steps creaking as you go up. And up. And up. And finally- there. You reach out with one hand and touch the side of the shelf. Just as you figured, it’s made out of some weird reinforced wood. There’s barely a noise made when you push some more of your weight onto your hand.

Getting up will be difficult with a hurt shoulder (it still makes you wince to move it), but you really have no choice. You can practically feel the clock as it runs closer and closer to the bottom of the wire. What happens when it hits the very end? Who knows. Maybe the bell will stop tolling. Maybe you’ll be caught. Maybe it’ll be a tie. What happens then? If neither of you win and neither of you lose? Will Larissa give it up and you will have to eat dinner with her anyway? Or will nothing happen? Or will nothing change? Or will it always be like this? Running and hiding and running and hiding… no end in sight? No happy ending? Not even a glimpse of one? What’s the point of it, then? What’s the point in continuing your little song and dance? Will the pain of it all ever really be worth it? Will any of it matter in the end?

You pause, lingering on the top step of the ladder.

Are you going to live through this vicious cycle until the bitter finale? Until you’ve had enough? What even constitutes enough? What is your breaking point? Why haven’t you broken already? Why haven’t you shattered? Why haven’t you told the police?

She’s going to make you eat human meat if she wins.

And if you win, somehow someway, there’s just no way to hold her to her word. There’s no way to trust her. An addict can’t just quit cold turkey. A poor fiend can’t stop stealing out of the blue. That’s not how it works. A hungry predator doesn’t stop stalking prey because it decides it’s wrong.

She’s just another animal killing one of her own. What’s so terrible about that?

What’s so terrible about learning to deal with it?

Why can’t you accept it?

Why are you making a mountain out of a molehill? Why are you freaking out about the cycle of life? It’s just a little death. It’s just a little hunger. Why can’t you love her freely? For who she is? Why does there have to be perfection for you? Why do you set the bar so high? She’s everything, you know. She’s successful, she’s intelligent, she’s amusing and humorous, she’s charming, and handsome, and she could give you the world. And somehow, the best thing is, she thinks you’re worth the world.

Why?

No one knows.

Why does the wolf kill the lamb?

It’s hungry.

Does the lamb know that?

No.

The lamb just thinks it’s being killed for merely existing. Like eradicating a pest. Except they’re the pest. And so they must be eaten.

That’s how it goes.

Why?

No one knows.

Why does the bell stop tolling?

Oh don’t be silly.

It doesn’t.

It just keeps ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringin-

Footsteps.

Outside the door.

Down the hall.

Footsteps.

Footsteps...

Running?

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Okay I quite liked how I did this lol. Probably one or two more parts for this little series type thingy. Let me know what you think? Thank you my darlings. - Rip x

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Tags (Keep in mind Tumblr won’t let me tag certain accounts):

@kaymariesworld @bloommushroom @readingtheentrails @thegoddamnfeels @theonefairygodmother @theflashesoflove @sweetderacine @gwensfreak @shyladyfan @sunnyanon @emilynissangtr @sugipla @deongocrazy @nocteangelus15 @azu-zu @hopelessly-sapphic @enchantressb @syrenacrainn @im-a-carnivorous-plant @willowshadenox @aemilia19 @scarlettssub @ladysdraga @willisnotmental @gela123 @zillahofviolets-bayolet @the-bearr @amateurwritescm @alex-nyx @alexusonfire @h-doodles @weemssapphic

#rippersz #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x y/n #cannibal larissa weems #principal larissa weems #principal weems x reader #principal weems #larissa x you #larissa x y/n

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madam-o · 1 month

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Honestly, I don't think the sequel is going to give the Beetlebabes fandom what it wants anymore than it will the antis. There will be shippy content, but it will be tempered with not-shippy content. What I expect is for Beetlejuice to scare, annoy, and piss off all of the main cast while trying to use Lydia to escape his rampaging ex-wife through an "unholy matrimony" ritual that will set him free from the Netherworld. Lydia will make the bargain to do this so he'll help her find Astrid, but she'll continue to be grossed out by him and distrustful.

Do I think Beetlejuice truly crushes on Lydia? Sure. She represents a dream of a carefree life topside where he can do whatever the frick he wants with no consequences. She's also cute and creepy. But let there be no doubt about it, he would make for a crappy husband as he is now. When I think of it, I picture him lounging on the sofa with a beer in one hand and the other hand down his boxers, Al Bundy style.

I think the best thing Beetlejuice will do for Lydia is separate her from her fiance, Rory. Maybe after he sends Rory running for the hills (or worse), Lydia will make peace with him. Maybe they'll even be friends. Maybe the old rascal might reform himself just a bit and try to win her over. It'll take quite a change for me to picture movie Lydia ever really giving him a chance, though.

#beetlejuice #lydia deetz #beetlebabes #beetlejuice beetlejuice #winona ryder #keatlejuice

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jamneuromain · 4 months

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Wild Child Chapter 6

Series Summary:

As the granddaughter of the sole Duke in your country, you know that you were going to marry some douche prince, because it is the only way to solidify the grasp the future king has on the Upper House. On the flight home, you come up with a brilliant plan to defy your upcoming matrimony.

Bringing a random man to your grandfather's place, and say you have a boyfriend already.

"Is there anything else I should know about? Before I meet your family?" Ari cocks his head to the side, watching you adjusting your cerulean Valentino dress when you wave your hand dismissively.

"Just say we're in love and help me get out of marrying this D-bag."

Ari Levinson x You

#i didn't know he is my fiance-douchebag-prince

#when i did, it was too late

A/N: I'm sorry it took me half a year before squeezing(?) out a new chapter😬😅 thank you all for loving WC!Ari and Reader, and last but not least, a huge thanks to @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory who provided the wonderful idea of Ari and allergies😌❤️ and as always, thank you to @rogerswifesblog/@rogerswifesblog-updates for her support and endurance of my on-and-off inspirations😘❤️

The bodyguard, Ethan, quietly followed you as you walked with Ari, as you were introducing your house and your family to your fake boyfriend.

“This is the ballroom.”

Servants pulled open a huge door as you walked through. You gazed upwards, pointing at various portraits on the walls, “These are my ancestors. Hardly knew any of them…” Your fingernail raked through a tiny bronze plate which had your name on it, “This is a family portrait when I was … five?”

You sounded not so sure about yourself.

Ari raised his head and saw the oil painting, that had a girl in a blue dress in it, along with her parents, who looked like they were deeply in love.

It looked like a happy family.

Though he doubted that was the case.

Your eyes landed on your mother’s face in the portrait.

“My mother is a nice woman.” You whispered. Too low even for yourself to hear, “She is going to like you.”

Ari did not comment.

Your gaze wandered to the name on the bronze plate. As by Ballenian Law, she took your father’s last name. Losing her own. “You would think that married to my father, she is what, something similar to him. But no, she is the nicest mom on earth.” Your voice grew louder, clearing your throat, introducing the only woman, probably the only person that mattered in your life.

There was a small smile on the corner of your lips. Small but firm.

“We had a writing contest in school today.” You walked into the room with hands folded in front of your abdomen, walking like a true lady indeed, before handing your backpack to one of the servants, thanking them sweetly. Like a true lady.

“That sounds interesting.” Your mother tugged your hand so that you would sit by her side while putting the crochet and yarn away from the sofa, “How did it go?”

You chose to sit on the sofa's armrest and swung your legs happily. You did win a prize, after all, you deserved happiness.

“I-”

“Put your feet down, sweetie.” Your mother kindly advised. Softly but curtly. She pursed her lips together, frowning as if swinging your legs would invite horrible viruses into your calves. Or worse, rudeness. Landing a hand on your knee, she suggested, “You are twelve years old, not two. That is not ladylike. And sit on the sofa, not the armrest, while you are at it.”

Mother is always right. You thought. Even though the rules are annoying and the ways she told me to get my father back never worked.

You did as told, sitting beside her without any further leg movements, and said, “The teacher told us to write about our future dreams.”

“That sounds wonderful, sweetie.” Your mother nodded, “What did you write about?”

“I wrote that…” The word journalist turned one hundred and eighty degrees at your tongue. Somehow, even though it was the true answer, you did not feel comfortable letting it out. You swallowed thickly, making up a word on the spot, “Diplomat. I wrote that I wanted to be a diplomat. Helping countries exchange communication and building allies, that sort of thing.”

The corner of your mother’s lips twitched lightly in amusement. “Quite a dream, darling,” she complimented you half-heartedly, “Though why not be a Princess? You can do all that while being a Princess and taking care of your family as well. Like a superwoman. You have always wanted to be a superwoman, haven’t you?”

Yes, and that was five years ago when I read the first comic book ever in my life. You answered, silently, deep down, but your forced smile was betraying you.

“Don’t you want to be a Princess, my dear?” Your mother seemed puzzled, “That is the goal we have always worked for.”

No, I don’t. “Yes, of course.” You answered, sickly sweet like the industrial sugary flavor, “I just thought that maybe the Prince won’t like me. I have never met him before …”

“Oh nonsense.” Your mother huffed in annoyance, “He is going to love my precious little girl. You are going to fall in love and have babies. But of course, he shall marry you first …”

“Miss?”

A servant approached your sides, gesturing to the living room, “His Lordship is ready for you.”

You did not take long to hand the roses to one of the servants, ordering them to put the flowers into a vase in your room, before asking Ari to join you in the living room.

“Just follow my lead.” You whispered, folding your hand over your abdomen, you stepped into the living room.

If your eyes did not mistake you, your father’s arm landed on the back of the chair, then on his other arm, finally settling on the side of his body. He was either posing for the next cover shot of GQ, which you were fairly certain that there were neither cameras nor photographers in this room, or he was nervous.

Nervous? That was absurd for a man like your father. You scoffed. He must be trying to intimidate your fake boyfriend. And not very successful at it, you might add.

Behind you, Ari narrowed his eyes.

Which made your father nearly jump from his seat.

“Well,” Your father stood up from his large armchair, his eyes darting from you to Ari, and back to you again, “I take it this is the … man – date, eh, boyfriend, you are trying to introduce me to.”

“Yes.” You replied shortly, “Guy, this is my father. Father, Guy Thomas.”

Ari strode forward, extending his hand for a firm handshake.

“Pleasure to meet you, Sir.”

“No, the pleasure is all my - aye.” Your father grimaced as if he had a living frog shoved down his throat. His pitch literally went up an octave. He could practically feel the bones being crushed under the iron grip.

“Shall we, um, take a seat?” You gestured towards the large sofa, tugging Ari by his sleeve. An act out of fear that your father would flip any moment.

It was one of your motives to piss your father off, for starters. A not-so-subtle defiance of “fuck-you” towards the ridiculous marriage you were bound to since the day you were born. But it wasn’t worth it to cause a huge fuss for your father to wreck chaos in your home and your family as well, particularly when you had yet to meet your mother since your return: you feared that he would take it out on your mother, which wasn’t surprising, seeing that your father adored violence when he found he would not be winning by his shitty reasoning.

You were dancing dangerously between the lines of your freedom and planned to use up every drop of it carefully.

“That would be lovely.” Ari smiled softly at you, sitting by your side.

Your father clenched and unclenched his fist behind his back. Taking the seat opposite you, and asked the servants to bring some tea.

Asked. Not demanded.

It was either you woke up today in a completely different world, or that your father had banged his head on the coffee table and another soul was taking over his body –

“So,” began your father, smoothing his hand over his prized tux, “I heard that you were doing business?”

“Ah, yes.” Ari covered your hand with his, squeezing your rigid fingers that were probably leaving permanent sweat stains on his suit jacket, “From Thomas, Kit & Co. A family business.”

“Sure. Sure. Sure.” Your father fumbled with his cufflink absent-mindedly. He nearly spilled his tea onto the Corinthian leather under his ass while taking the cup from the servant. Looking like a cherry bomb that was about to go off, he sure did spend the entire sane part of his brain preventing him from yelling at the servant. Your father grumbled with a detectable fury over his face, “Please, have some tea. I hope you, er, enjoy it. Milk? Honey?”

He offered but none answered.

“Hope no one is allergic to this.” Your father grunted under his breath.

You peeked inside the fine china.

Ugh. Fruit tea.

Ari, on the other hand, took a small sip of the burning liquid. He did not even wince.

You placed the tray onto the table, and decided to break the silence, “Father, I thought my mother would present. I’d very much like to introduce my boyf- um, boyfriend to her.”

“Your mother is unwell.” He replied coldly.

Ari cleared his throat, taking another sip of the thing that could barely be called tea.

Who the hell on earth invented boiling fruit and called it tea??

“I, hmm, suppose she would present at the wedding.” Your father added, in a creepily kind tone that a doting parent would use.

A sharp click.

Ari’s tea cup went back on the tray before he put it down.

Your father gulped.

Ari reached into his pockets, turning to look at you, “Speaking of, sweetheart, I prepared a gift for my darling fiancé.”

Your head snapped in his direction. Your eyes bulged just a little because you agreed on fake dating, not fake marrying!

Engagement? What the heck was he talking about? Or was he trying to insinuate the fact that you got engaged to a completely random person? That bastard.

But the velvet box lying in his hands, the box that had a watch inside, the box you handed to him a while ago, telling you that he was, in fact, sticking to the plan, albeit improvising from the script you negotiated.

“Oh my gosh!” You squealed in delight. Your voice sounded painfully forced even to your own ears, “Thank you, babe. What have you got for me?”

A watch, of course. You knew already.

Yet you played your part, opening the box like a surprised girlfriend.

Wonder how that played out. Deep down, you scoffed at your near-lousy performance. Given the chance, you would undoubtedly take an acting class someday.

“I – ahem, appreciate how you value my daughter, Your – uh, your reputation precedes you, Mister …”

Your father clearly struggled with your fake boyfriend’s name, so you helpfully chirped up, “Thomas. Guy Thomas.”

“Right.” Your father shot you a warning glare, “Mister Thomas. But – You see – Eh, excuse me, my thoughts have been incoherent.”

And since when did your father become so polite to just about anyone? You couldn’t help but wonder if your father woke up this morning and had those fancy mushrooms or special brownies.

Ari smiled, patiently waiting for what your father was about to say.

“All I am trying to say is that,” Your father sat up from his spot on the couch, his fat purple lips pushed a greasy smile over his revolting face, “It would be such a shame if our, um, noble lineage died down, no?”

Ah. So that was his plan. You tried hard not to sneer.

Playing the blue blood card so that your fake boyfriend would pledge either allegiance or admit he was no match for such a noble family.

You rolled your eyes when your father was not looking.

Typical.

You put the velvet box away, but not before placing the watch around your wrist. What your father suggested could be easily solved, “I’m sure we could work out on having a son of mine taking my family name. Don’t you agree, baby?”

Ari did not reply, much to your confusion.

He simply raised the cup to his lips again, blowing the steam away from the edge of the cup. He did not drink, but said, “It would.”

The corner of your father’s eyes twitched in ecstatic, “Then I-”

Ari interrupted him before your father could finish his sentence, “To my knowledge, my dear fiancé is your only child?”

“Girlfriend.” You hissed under your breath, pinching his waist which was seemingly made out of metal, because he had not waivered, even though you had pinched him.

“Sorry.” His arm surrounded your shoulders, apologized by saying your name, his eyes had nothing but warmth inside, calming your frantic heartbeat, “Our sweet Y/N here, has no siblings if memory serves me correctly.”

What did having a brother or sister has anything to do with the succession of your family title? You’d rather throw it into the Atlantic than have anything to do with it, especially since your father would possibly be accepting the title soon, considering that he was the only son of your grandfather.

“Yes, but-” Your father stammered.

Your blood ran cold at the thought of something. Something that might tear you and your mother’s life apart.

What if … what if your father had a son?

A bastard had no way of taking the title, which meant that the only way for your so-called lineage to continue, was for your father to divorce your mother, and marry his mistress.

Losing the chance to marry the Prince was one thing.

That you give zero fuck about.

But your mother …

Your mother would be devastated.

You could practically hear her disappointment if this all went down.

“I’ve raised you, fed you. This is not what we hoped for…”

Blood drained from your face.

“Then that is settled.” Said Ari softly.

Settled? The heck had been settled? What was he doing for crying out loud?

“But Your-” Your father choked on his own spit, coughing, “ah, your parents wouldn’t mind, would it?”

“That would depend.”

Why are these two speaking in riddles? Has the topic of this conversation taken a strange turn when you were thinking about you and your mother’s future?

“Depend on what, may I ask?” Your father left his seat, leaning forward so hard that he could have his necktie soaked with the fruit tea from his cup.

Ari had his gaze land on you.

You, on the other hand, had no clue of what was going on, or what were they talking about.

Things were truly getting out of hand, and you did not enjoy it.

“I thought it is only appropriate if my mother joined us too.” Your palms were getting sweaty. It has been a long time since you talked to your mother. The last time was when she worked with your father to coax you back – the phone call that contained both your father's and your mother’s voice.

You did not appreciate that when you ended up in your own room and no way out, but she was your mother, and she brought you up, no matter the means or education purposes.

“She is unwell.” Your father squeezed the words from his teeth, “I’ll arrange a meeting when she turns out better. You, however -”

Ari raised his hand to pause the conversation.

That hand curled into a fist in front of his nose.

He furrowed his brows.

And sneezed. Loudly.

Your father's face turned into a spectacular turquoise shade.

"Sorry." Ari sounded unapologetic, "I think I'm allergic to your bullshit."

Though your father did not find it amusing for one bit, you literally snorted out laughter, burying your face in your hands and shaking uncontrollably, giggling like a maniac.

… which is why you did not witness either the victorious smirk on Ari’s lips, or the scene where your father rose from his seat, his face bloated like a cartoon character, and tripped over the carpet when he exited the room.

“Tell me about her, Ari.” Queen Olivia tapped on her glass with a silver spoon, signaling the servant to pour another cup of red, “I heard from your head security that you have been spending quite some time with her.”

Drinking down some mineral water to make his mind sharp, Ari replied, “She’s cute. Funny.” His memory trotted back to the little conversation about your epic plan to piss off your father, he couldn’t help but grin, “She reminds me of you, Mother, when we used to head to the Royal Garden-”

And spend time with him without the watchful eyes of his grandmother. The old croon – bless her soul – did everything she could trying to pry Ari away from his mother, for fear that Queen Olivia’s “American blood” could pollute the precious prince, even though Queen Olivia was very much part of the royal family, born and raised as a proper princess.

He didn’t have the best family in the world, so to speak.

A small glimpse of upset flickered over Queen Olivia’s expression. Like her son, she also remembered when the queen, Victor’s late mother, wanted Olivia to give birth to more sons, threatening her with the custody of Ari.

“… which is why I have made up my mind for my coronation decree.”

Now that spiked her interest and freed her from her painful memories.

A coronation decree is the first legal command that a king would issue. Upon this sets the stone of domination for the new king. It could be as vague as “We would pay more attention to the education of rural areas” or as specific as “inviting the Prime Minister from the UK for a visit”. Of course, the first one would give more room for interpretation, hence encouraged.

Ari wiped his mouth with a napkin, before saying thoughtfully, “For my first decree, I would grant the same succession rights for daughters and sons.”

Taglist (also tagging those who might be interested: @irishhappiness @patzammit @identity2212 @lokislady82 @petalj

@thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @magnificentsaladllama @xx-rennyxx @cringeycookies

@autumnrose40 @hawkeyes-queen @vonalyn @theliheat @boo8008

@mrsevans90 @bradfordmyworld @delldenaro @molisighs @otpcutie

Find the Wild Child Masterlist here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fluff #prince!ari levinson #royalty au #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson #wild child

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rosazoldyckk · 2 years

Text

𐬻𐬿Obsessive!Illumi X Reader𐬿𐬼

Fandom: Hunter X Hunter. Genre: again idk. Yandere genre??? TW’s: obsessive/yandere behaviour, stalking, and illumi.

260 words

One with no common sense wouldn't pin Illumi Zoldyck as the clingy type, but you knew better.

Both day and night, he would always ask for some sort of affection from you be it small kisses, hugs, cuddles, literally any form of skinship was something magical to him.

Your friends, Killua and Gon, started to tease you, claiming that Illumi was going to marry you the moment he steps foot back on kukuroo mountain and that the only thing that was stopping him from taking your hand in holy matrimony was that he had to raise Killua to be the perfect assassin in the Zoldyck family.

Although Kurapika and Leorio would immediately shut down these wild remarks. Illumi would smile at their comments, (from a distance since Killua would once again be disobedient if he found out he was being stalked) Illumi was obviously pleased with the thought of being with you until he grows old but he didn't want to take you by force.

He wants you to want him.

He has his charms and he continuously abuses them so often, he always has some sort of trick up his sleeve. It didn't help that he would just casually appear wherever you were and he would take up your time. A part of him knew that monopolizing you like this was wrong but he told himself that it was all going to be worth it.

Slow and steady wins the race as they say, and Illumi was in no rush.

He's willing to wait an eternity until you fall in love with him.

#hunter x hunter x reader #hxh x reader #hxh illumi #illumi zoldyck #hxh x y/n #hxh zoldyck #killua hunter x hunter #yandere x darling #yandere illumi #illumi x y/n #illumi x you #gon and killua #obsessive bf #obsessive love #obsessivecore #yandere #yandere x reader

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dancingtotuyo · 6 months

Text

Before | 3. we could live quite happily

A Woman Story

Rating: Mature

Warnings: fluff and happiness

Notes: Thank you @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for reminding me this added something to the story even if I felt like "nothing really happened"

Words: 1167

Series Masterlist | Woman Masterlist | Author Masterlist

“What kind of flowers do you want?”

“Gabe, we’re getting married in November, there’s not going to be any flowers.” You roll your eyes, scraping the last remnants from the salad Gabe brought you for lunch.

“Mrs. Bleeker always has potted flowers.”

“Oh yes, walking down the aisle with a three-foot potted plant is such a good idea.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Your fiancé rolls his eyes. “Do you not want flowers?”

You laugh. “Gabe, I just wanna marry you.”

“You don’t have any dreams for your wedding?”

“First off, it’s our wedding. Secondly, any dreams I had of my wedding day went down the drain a long time ago.”

“What was your dream?” Gabe leans across the table with an award-winning smile, the one that makes you feel half your age.

His eyes sparkle under the clinic lights. He’s ready to make some big fanciful daydream and drag you into it. You wonder how he’s kept that approach to life all these years, always building some new world to escape to, figuring out what he could pull from those into yours. It’s one of the things you love about him.

“I’m not playing this game right now. We have work to do before the doc gets back.”

You had a doctor wander into Jackson about 6 months ago. Since getting the damn working and electricity restored to Jackson, you and he work on getting the old clinic cleaned up. The wall expansion is almost complete, making it worth everyone’s while to invest in cleaning up the shops and buildings, including the old clinic. Gabe is helping, or supposed to be helping. You have a feeling he’s more interested in wedding planning.

“Come on, Doleful. We can do both.”

You grab a bucket, refilling it with warm soapy water. “You know, one would think calling your fiancée Doleful is a good way to end up without one.”

Doleful, you’ve grown oddly fond of the nickname. It reminds you of who you were when you met him and how far you’ve come. It’s a part of Gabe’s magical imagination. It’s how he stays connected to them, the family he lost on outbreak day.

He kisses your cheek. “Well, you sure as hell ain’t Wistful.”

You splash water at him. He laughs and you can’t help the smile overtaking your face. “Oh? Is that the 9th dwarf who never was?”

“No, it was the 10th,” he winks.

You roll your eyes as the two of you settle into silence wiping years of dust and grime from the shelves with lye soap.

Your brain sits with Gabe’s words. Try as you might to keep it at bay, the wedding you always thought you’d have drifts into your brain.

“Maybe it’s a southern thing…”

Gabe stops his work, turning to face you. You keep your eyes glued to your task.

“But I always pictured getting married in a field somewhere with tall grass or wildflowers or something all around.” You shrug. “Something real simple.”

Gabe beams back at you and you roll your eyes. “We could wait until summer if you wanted-“

“No,” you say quickly. Gabe furrows his brow. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

He kisses you. “Good. Neither do I.”

“Then why did you offer?”

“Because that’s the one thing you’ve told me you wanted.”

“Not true. I said I wanted Maria to officiate.”

“That doesn’t count and you know it.” He crosses his arms. “She officiates all the weddings.”

He wasn’t wrong. There had been a surprising amount of matrimony since the group settled in Jackson 3 years ago.

“But she’s my best friend.”

“Fine, you win.” Gabe kisses you.

“Practicing for marriage, Gabe?” Maria enters the clinic with someone hot on her heels.

“You know it.” Gabe smiles, ever the charmer. You can’t help but smile. That’s your man.

Gabe stretches his hand to the newcomer, making the introduction before Maria can. “Gabe Rowland.”

There’s something familiar about him. You try to recall where you’ve seen him before.

“Tommy Miller.” He shakes Gabe’s hand and it clicks.

“Holy shit.” You say.

Three sets of eyes snap to you. You see the recognition in his, but he hasn’t placed you.”

Gabe introduces you to him. “My fiancée.”

“You’re Sarah’s uncle.”

Tommy’s eyes furrow. “Haven’t been called that in a long time.” He cocks his head to the side. The implications set a pit in your stomach. It’s not hard to assume the reason. Your name plays off his lips. “Wait a second-“

“You two know each other?” Maria asks.

“You were Sarah’s babysitter.”

“And you were the reason I made it through college debt-free. Joel always paid me extra when he had to bail you out of county lockup in the middle of the night.”

Maria’s eyes snap back to Tommy. You see the former assistant DA in her come out. “Should I be worried about him?”

Tommy looks a little worried like you hold his fate in his hands as he remembers all the times he teased you in Joel’s kitchen. “He’s good, Maria. No worries. Might be able to help with the wall. He was a contractor in his former life

Maria relaxes, looking Tommy up and down. “Good, I like knowing I made the right call.”

Tommy’s hardly aged. A few more wrinkles but there’s not a streak of gray in his jet-black hair, still cut at the same length from 15 years ago. You want to ask him about Sarah and Joel, but you can’t. Everyone lost people. No one likes to talk about it.

“Gabe,” Maria says. “Will you finish showing Tommy around? I need to steal your fiancée for a little bit.”

“Of course.” Gabe kisses your head. “Come on, Tommy, you look like you could use a drink. Maybe I can get some stories out of you about my fiancée.”

“I got plenty.” Tommy grins.

You shake your head as they leave, curiosity piquing as you follow Maria’s eye line right to Tommy.

“Those two are gonna be trouble together,” you say.

“What makes you think that?”

“Tommy was 10 times the troublemaker Gabe is. Somehow, I don’t think that’s changed.”

Maria raises an eyebrow. “As long as he does his share.”

“Are you a part of his share?”

Maria’s eyes snap back to you, narrowing. You bite back a giggle, smile overtaking your face.

“You know I miss when you didn’t laugh and smile like a schoolgirl.”

“You do not.” You wave her off. “You’re just mad I clocked it so fast.”

“I’ll remind you, I won a nice scarf the night you left the dance with Gabe.”

“I assure you, I stayed much warmer,” You stick your tongue out at her. A little childish for sure, but happy nonetheless. “Looks better on you than it ever did on Rachel anyway.”

Maria's stern expression eases up. You can tell she’s biting back laughter. “Not a word, okay? To anyone.”

“My lips are sealed.”

#the last of us #tlou #woman (joel’s version)#woman (joel miller)#joel miller x reader

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years

Note

Yandere Wizard stealing knight Reader from Dragon yandere

Shackled and dressed in fine lace over your armor, you await your hand in unholy matrimony with the devil that's stolen you from your home and place beside the heir to your kindgom. You'd shed a tear for the pain she's likely feeling, if you had not spent them on yourself. Your mate tended to every necessity you could possibly have, but it did little to dull the sorrow over your lost freedom. You were permitted to walk the castle halls, but never to leave.

"Need some assistance? My fair knight~"

Your head rises from your pillow as the disembodied voice echoes from the corridor beyond your door. It was past curfew, so you weren't able to venture, and no one ever visited you besides the dragon itself. Not waiting for an answer, the shadow steps away from the door. It begins to chip at its edges, slowly eroding into sawdust as the metal handle falls to the ground unsupported. A hand grabs it before it can hit the floor, setting it on the dresser as it's full form creeps into the room. The intruder kneels at your bedside, kissing the metal ring of your wrist armor.

"Hello again, old friend."

Face illuminated by the candle on the way, your eyes widen. You - knew this person. They were an apprentice of the royal family's magic welder, who was banished for crimes against the royal family.

"You... What are you doing here? Have you come to use me to get back at our kingdom?"

The intruder chuckles. "Oh the contrary, my - love. I have come to assure the safety of my own kingdom, for you and I are its sole inhabitants. The royal brat proved herself a worthy opponent in winning your heart, but that dragon is child's play. Leaving you alone and unprotected like this. Foolish, but it works in my favor."

With a stroke against your cheek, they stand. Snapping their fingers, the chains bringing your legs to the bed shatter from post and shackles, slithering up your body and wrapping around your arms and torso. They scoop you into their arms despite your protests; stealing your voice by stealing your lips with their fingers.

"Enough chit chat for now. We need to get you home for that lizard returns."

#Kinda old draft but seemed fun to finish #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere blurb #Yandere wizard #yandere drabble #yandere x y/n #yandere dragon #knight reader

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kristinamae093 · 1 year

Text

Ghosted

Ghosted - Two Steps Back (Chapter Ten)

Series Summary - Prince Liam fell for Riley Brooks hard and fast. A marriage filled with love and devotion was within his reach. But everything changed when she vanished just before the end of the social season. As everyone voices their concerns regarding her scandalous departure, a confession from an unlikely source turns Liam's world upside down and makes him question everything around him.

Book/Pairing - TRR - Liam x MC (Riley Brooks)

A/N 1 - This AU starts right before the beginning of the engagement tour. There is a two-month lapse between the coronation and where we pick up, but we will stray from canon. Please excuse any errors found.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

After the Regatta

Penelope hobbled to her room on a sore foot and a painfully bruised ego. This wasn’t going as expected; advisors told her toward the beginning of the season she might stand a chance, but after only the first few events, they hastily changed their tone. Between Madeleine, Riley, and Olivia, they knew Penelope would not be the new king’s choice.

Regardless, Penelope was enjoying her time away. The friends she’d made were irreplaceable; she and Kiara formed an everlasting bond. Even Riley was incredibly friendly, despite her commoner status. Penelope was rooting for Riley to win it all because she was genuinely a nice person, and Penelope was looking forward to what Cordonia could look like with her as queen.

Penelope approached her door whilst humming to herself. The day was long, and she was relieved to be in the comfortable solace of her own space. She planned on calling her parents for their daily video chat, and to get some doggy face time to tide her over while away. Her anxiety was through the roof without having them close, but the friendships she’d made were a momentary distraction. She was glad the ladies were nice enough; otherwise, this experience would’ve been a nightmare.

Penelope entered and made a bee-line for the bathroom. She did her business, washed her hands, and bounced her way over to the dresser to get more comfortable for the evening. Just as she opened the drawer, a stern knock sounded on her door. Penelope scrunched her face; she was expecting no visitors but thought perhaps Kiara wanted to hang out.

As Penelope opened the structure, a thunderous force shoved through her and entered, slamming the door shut. Penelope stumbled backward but caught her footing. She could only stare at the person in front of her as panic flourished through her body. She didn't recognize them, but the death glare plastered on their face told her that notion was not applied on both ends. Her instinct told her to scream for help, but the visitor addressed her before she was given the chance.

They spoke in a low, raspy voice. “Have a seat, Lady Penelope. We have a lot to discuss.”

“W–who are you?”

“You need not worry about who I am, only what I know.”

“What do you mean?”

The person clasped their hands behind their back and stalked around Penelope; like a vulture circles its prey. “Everyone around you thinks you're the sweet, poodle-obsessed Penny, but I see otherwise. I know all about you… The things you’ve done… What your daddy tries his damndest to hide…”

Penelope’s already increasing heart rate spiked. “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. It’s alright, I wouldn’t want anyone to know, either.” They dismissively shrugged.

“Know what?”

The person snickered at her attempts to deflect, but they could see the panic rising in her eyes. “It’s quite a common expression — young and dumb. But, when you’re in the nobility, there are no secrets unless you know the right people.”

Penelope thickly swallowed. “I don’t – I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? So, then you’ve never been — joined in holy matrimony, right?”

Penelope’s eyes widened. “I–”

“Enough with your attempts to feign confusion; that will only prolong this process and I am not in the mood to play games. I know of your estranged marriage; how your father pays plenty of hush money per month to keep his mouth shut. I imagine it would be fairly difficult to talk yourself out of that situation if the press were to catch wind; considering Portavira continuously requests the Crown’s compensation. And I do believe the monarch would not be happy to learn your family has developed a slush fund, either.”

The intruder gave Penelope a wicked smile and added, “Not to mention the — fatality that was caught amid your poor life choices…”

Penelope visibly tensed. “That’s not – I didn’t–” she stammered before snapping her mouth closed; her flustered state prohibited her from forming an argument.

“It’s a matter of opinion, I suppose. Regardless, I attained the records from your procedure.” They waved a piece of paper in Penelope’s face, and recognition swept over her instantly. She released a shuddered breath as the document came to a stop, her tearful eyes centering on the text.

Despite Penelope’s panicked state, the aggressor continued, “Tell me, do your parents know of your aborted fetus? I mean, I saw you on security cameras entering the clinic alone. It was smart of you to use a fake name, but unfortunately, that was not enough to cover up your mistakes.”

Penelope never answered, but the assailant watched her swallow thickly with shame etched in her features. She couldn’t fathom how this stranger had found her deepest secrets that she was certain would never see the light of day.

Penelope found out she was pregnant the day after her annulment was discreetly settled. Terrified wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how she felt, as she stared down at the positive test; she went to the clinic in disguise to find out about her options and decided abortion would be the best solution. Being only nineteen years old, Penelope was practically a child herself and didn’t believe she was at a point to care for a baby like they deserved. And she was alone; when she dreamt of this moment, it happened completely differently in her head. She longed for the fairytale love, where they would start a family together; not single and inevitably disgraced.

Her parents didn’t know, she was too afraid to tell them — especially after her father agreed to pay a continuous hefty fee for Guy’s silence. Penelope was always well-behaved; the perfect trophy daughter. The look of pure disappointment held in their eyes when they found out about her marriage haunted her; she never wanted to do anything out of line again. All Penelope desired was to move on from her mistake, but life had other plans.

Panicked and ashamed, Penelope made the impossible decision alone, not wanting anyone to know of the stupid decisions that led her there. Her fear and guilt only increased after the procedure, but she grieved what could have been and pushed it into the deepest pit of her mind.

She never told a soul – nobody knew – or so she thought.

“All it would take is a small whisper to the press and it would destroy not only you, but your fraudulent parents as well…”

Penelope gasped as her tears freely flowed. “No! P–please, don’t!”

The person laughed; the sound sending an involuntary chill down Penelope’s spine. They stalked forward until her back hit the wall and they breathed over her. Penelope squeezed her eyes closed, but felt them draw nearer. The tangy scent of alcohol mixed with cigar smoke filled her nostrils, as they whispered in her ear, “If you want my silence, you’re going to have to earn it.”

Penelope’s eyes shot open as she frantically nodded her head. “Okay, j–just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

“I knew you’d see reason,” the unknown presence spoke while taking a small step away. They produced an envelope from their jacket and handed it to her.

Penelope opened it and started skimming over the information; it was an email address with a set of instructions and a few other notes. She didn’t understand what it all meant; the main thing that stuck out was the location of where they wanted the photographer to be.

“Why are they going to be outside Riley’s room?”

“The less you know, the better.” They once again reached into their jacket, this time pulling out a small vial and handing it to her. “You need to give this to her beforehand. I do not care how it happens, just make sure it gets in her system; the earlier, the better.”

“W–what is this? Is this a drug?” Penelope stammered as she stared down at the bottle in her trembling hands.

The person smiled; a dark, wicked smile. “You don’t need to worry about that; just make sure she ingests it at an early enough hour.”

Tears once again streamed down Penelope’s cheeks as she frantically shook her head and tried to hand the items back. “N–no. I can’t do that, and I won’t. I would rather disgrace myself than–”

“You’re going to do it.”

Penelope stood a little taller and yelled, “No, I won’t! I–”

Penelope received a sudden, sharp backhand to her cheek. She fell to the floor cradling her face but was soon flipped over onto her back, her aggressor pinning her to the ground. She opened her mouth to scream, but quickly closed it as she saw the gleam of a blade in the light right in front of her face.

“Make a sound and I’ll kill you right here, right now.” The attacker moved the knife to hover over Penelope’s throat, applying just enough pressure to keep her subdued. “You have two options — you either comply and do as you’re told, or this is where your life will end. If you refuse to cooperate, you already know too much, and I will ensure you don’t live to tell the tale personally. But I won’t stop there, no – I’ll ruin your parents as well; the entire world will know what a fraud you and your family are.”

“No… P–please. I – I can’t – I –” Penelope frantically stammered, trying to develop a coherent sentence.

“You can, and you will. Otherwise,” they leaned forward, close enough to touch noses with Penelope. “I’ll dig your grave myself and throw those mangy mutts in with you after. Perhaps we can make it a family affair and shove your parents inside, too. After all, being exposed to the world and losing their only disappointment of a child would leave them with nothing left to live for; especially once they know of your treacherous sins.” They sat back with a vile chortle, letting the words linger.

Penelope cried harder, her breathing rapid and erratic as her panic boiled over. She opened her mouth to shout for help despite the blade at her throat, but a firm hand abruptly pressed against her lips. “I think I’m being very understanding, actually. I could just end you and move on to the next useless suitor, but I’m allowing you to make the correct choice; to answer the call of service for your country. That commoner has no business being here; you know it, I know it, everyone knows it! We have to deal with her!”

After a tense moment of silence, her intruder grew restless. They rolled their eyes and huffed, “You’re running out of time. I’ll gift you ten seconds; agree, or...” The blade on Penelope’s throat suddenly held more force; hard enough she could feel her skin being lightly pierced. “I don’t think I really need to finish that sentence, do I?”

Penelope subtly nodded her head, afraid to move too much. Although she didn’t want to betray Riley in that way, she saw no other way out. Not only was her own life being threatened, but her parents as well; she was not willing to let them die because of her secrets they knew nothing about.

Her attacker soon chortled and sat up. “I had a feeling you would see it my way.” They patted her cheek, hard, before they stood and adjusted their clothing.

The intruder walked to the door and turned back around to address a whimpering Penelope. “As a reward for your service, I will make you a lady-in-waiting for the soon-to-be queen. I’d suggest you take the position and use discretion whenever necessary from here on out. If you do anything to compromise this operation, you will be sorry. Am I clear?“

The following afternoon, Olivia met with Liam, Leo, and Ray as they discussed the events of the night prior. The court just arrived in Portavira, although there was a break in events until the polo match in a few days. They gathered in Olivia’s room, as that’s where Ray set up his equipment and continuously ensured the area remained free of compromises.

Olivia told them about Penelope’s involvement, and Liam was certain Olivia was lying or playing some kind of sick joke. However, after seeing the proof himself, he knew it had to be true. He wasn’t close with Penelope by any means, but still felt betrayed. Riley was kind and warm to those around her, not a malicious bone in her body; what made Penelope want to get rid of her?

“We have to question her. I can’t be sure, but she might know we’re onto her. The look in her eyes –” Olivia shook her head with a heavy sigh. ”– I can’t explain it, but I don’t like it.”

“I agree,” Leo interjected. “We need to know why she did it, man, because this makes absolutely no sense. I mean, Penelope – of all people? Did she accidentally eat some dog food or something, and it made her go kookoo?”

Despite his overflowing anxiety, Liam laughed. “I really don't know. But we’re not all going to question her. I think it’s best if myself and Leo did this, so we don’t overwhelm her.” He spoke to the entire group.

“Are you… okay to do that?” Leo tentatively asked. “I can take Olivia — or hell, even Maxwell or Drake, if you don’t think you can keep your cool. We can’t really risk her shutting down and withholding anything important...”

Liam remained silent for a long moment. Honestly, he didn’t know if he could control himself. The selfish side of him wanted to confront Penelope face-to-face and demand answers. However, he knew he was teetering on a dangerous ledge, and her confession could provoke several different reactions.

He didn’t remember the last time he’d slept or ate a full meal. Days were molding together, and he had no sense of time unless it pertained to the tour. Liam was simply muttering through, doing the dutiful checklist a monarch should on the daily and trying his hardest to stay afloat; even though in all reality, he felt like he was drowning in a sea of uncertainty. No amount of training could prepare him for something like this; he was simply in limbo until one of the many open ends finally led them to something of importance. As the King he held mighty authority; yet, he’d never felt so powerless. Every second of not knowing something was torture; he just wanted to see Riley with his own two eyes.

“I… don’t think I can, actually. If you wouldn’t mind questioning her, I would very much appreciate it, Leo.”

Leo patted Liam on the back with a reassuring smile. “No problem. Care to accompany me, Livvie?”

“I suppose if we want some kind of answer, I’ll have to, won’t I?” Olivia smirked.

“Are we doing this now, or?”

“Yes. The sooner, the better.”

“And we’re certain she’s here?” Liam asked.

“She was out earlier with her dogs,” Olivia answered with an eye roll.

Liam nodded as he rubbed his palms together. “This is a decent plan. I have a good feeling about this, guys.”

For the first time since he opened his eyes to the truth about the narrative against Riley, Liam felt like this could take them somewhere relevant. This was a solid lead and although he knew it probably wouldn’t provide him with all the answers he was seeking, it was a damn good start.

Liam spoke again, “Any other updates?”

“I received the diagnostic report on Lady Riley’s dress on the way here." Ray explained. "The blood was mostly Riley’s, but traces from Tariq were present as well. There were a few hairs and skin cells noted, but the DNA only registers those two.”

“Oh… okay…” Liam quietly responded. He hoped deep down the mess was from someone else, but immediately felt foolish to let himself believe such a thing. Hearing it confirmed out loud made his stomach burn with anxiety; this is what he blinded himself to, this is what he ignored. The overwhelming guilt Liam was fighting momentarily took his breath away.

“Otherwise, there are no new leads.” Ray briefly met eyes with Olivia, the both of them having a silent conversation; unbeknownst to Liam. It wasn’t technically a lie, but not the entire truth. Ray found something — interesting, but Olivia decided now was not the time to bring it up to Liam, at least until after they learned what exactly Penelope knew. “Where Tariq is concerned, I’ve hit a complete brick wall; there’s absolutely nothing.”

“Nothing?”

Ray shook his head. “Not a trace. His accounts show no transactions, and his family has not heard from him in months. I’ve checked every mode of transportation available to leave the country and he wasn’t on any of their databases.”

“How is that even possible? There has to be something, somewhere. Seriously – Tariq has the IQ of a fucking peanut.” Leo interjected.

“It could be a collection of reasons,” Ray answered. He suddenly stopped typing on his keyboard and took in everyone’s curious expressions. “Either he’s just incredibly clever and has an immaculate ability to cover his tracks, has hired someone to do that for him, or…”

“He’s dead…” Liam quietly inserted, just above a whisper. His palms started trembling in his lap, and the only thing he could feel was his heart erratically thumping.

The deeper this web went, the further Liam felt himself slipping from reality. All he wanted was a sign, a concrete clue, anything to put him one step closer to finding Riley. The longer that time passed, the more he believed there was a grim reason they couldn’t find them. Just when the light at the end shined brighter, Liam was suddenly drug further down into the abyss of questions, making him doubt everything.

“We can’t confirm that right now, Your Majesty. I’ve searched hospital records and there are no reports of him checking in at any of them and nothing solid to point to that conclusion. There are a lot of open ends regarding his whereabouts, but I have a couple more places to look before we should start truly discussing that possibility.”

“Right…” Liam quietly responded as his mind raced. If Tariq’s DNA was on her dress, does that mean he’s the one who injured her? They already knew he was close to Riley; the pictures obviously showcased them together, but was Tariq responsible for attacking her, too? Those thoughts created a storm of rage he’d never felt before; just when he thought the fire had sizzled out, another splash of gasoline was poured onto the diminishing coals. Liam may not have felt a lot of hope, but he sure as hell felt the rage consuming his entire being.

Leo noticed Liam's forelorn expression and reassuringly gripped his shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. We’re going to get an answer — soon.”

A short while later, Olivia, Leo, and ‘Harold’ walked the halls of the Portavirian estate, searching for Penelope’s room. Liam opted to have a drink with Drake instead of being alone, as his already overflowing anxiety seemed to increase with every passing second.

They rounded the corner and Olivia tapped on Penelope’s door, but received near silence; muffled barks rang out beyond the structure, although seemingly at a distance. After a few moments, she stepped forward and repeated the process, but again, no answer. Leo knocked a few times a little louder, but heard nothing — aside from the dogs. He reached for the handle and tried to turn it, just to see, only to find it locked.

“What should we do?” Leo asked Olivia.

Olivia tapped her index finger against her chin. “I don’t know…” She furrowed her brow and stared at the door in front of her. “The poodles are inside, so she shouldn’t be far… Maybe we search around and see if we spot her anywhere? It’s still relatively early; she could have stepped out for a moment.”

Leo and Ray both agreed, and the trio began their trek. They started outside by the pool and checked the lounge area, but Penelope wasn't located anywhere. They searched nearly every floor, even the roof, but found no signs of her. Everyone else was already in their room for the night, the estate nearly deserted as they scoured the abandoned hallways. After a while, everyone agreed to take their chances and return to Penelope’s door, as a good hour passed since they last attempted.

A voice called out to them as they made their way up the grand staircase. They turned around to see Landon making his way to them with a grin on his face. “Good evening, Your Majesty, Duchess, a pleasure to see you both. Are the two of you just strolling, or have you been out on the town?” He chuckled with a playful side eye directed at Leo.

“You know me,” Leo smirked, “but actually, we’ve been looking for your daughter.”

Landon’s smile faded, instead replaced with a perplexed expression. “What do you need from Penelope?”

Leo and Olivia shared a hesitant look. “Actually, it’s confidential… Do you know where she is?”

“She said she was retiring to her room earlier.”

Olivia spoke next. “We checked there. We checked everywhere and we have no clue where she’s at.”

“Perhaps she’s already in slumber; she is quite the heavy sleeper. How about I come with you? I was headed there anyway, as she was acting fairly strange earlier.”

“Strange how?” Leo asked.

“She kept hugging her mother and me, and told us how much she loved us. She just seemed — sad, as if she would burst into tears at any moment. And she asked me to ensure Merlin and Morgana get plenty of treats.” Landon furrowed his brows and shook his head. “I asked her what she meant, and she just gave me another hug. Emmaline thinks she’s getting ready for her time of the month, which is why I came prepared.” He held up a wad of chocolate bars and laughed.

“I take it Merlin and Morgana are the poodles?”

“Oh, yes. They’re practically her children. It’s been hard on her to leave them at home, but she’s done fairly well. The unexpected route changes actually ended up being very beneficial to her, since she gets to be with them for a few days. I’m certain she’s going to have a hard time leaving again, but I know she appreciates getting to see them. When it was time to leave for the engagement tour, she was practically inconsolable; she didn’t want to leave, to the point we weren’t sure she would attend at all.”

“So, she didn’t want to return, then?” Olivia inquired, hanging on his every word.

Landon sighed and looked away. “I don’t believe so, no. But we made sure she knew how much of a tremendous opportunity this was for her. She was incredibly reluctant, but finally agreed. In all honesty, I think most of her reservations were regarding the fact that she was going so far away. Penelope is a very timid girl; she doesn’t particularly enjoy the crowds or being away from home. I’m confident staying in Cordonia where things are a little more familiar will turn things around for her; perhaps she will enjoy herself a bit.”

“Right…” Olivia trailed off, as her mind swirled around these new little bits of information. She questioned if Penelope's reluctance to come back had to do with Riley's disappearance. The haunting look in Penelope’s eyes as that cab drove away told Olivia she could be correct.

“Lead the way, then,” Leo inserted with a forced smile, as uneasiness crept into the pit of his stomach. The hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood at attention, an involuntary shudder traveling through his body; he shook it off and politely smiled at Landon, who returned the gesture before starting the journey.

Everyone strolled through the halls together and within a short time, they were nearing Penelope’s room once again. Leo and Landon made small talk along the way, but Olivia didn’t listen most of the time. A bad feeling rapidly grew as they walked; why, she wasn’t sure, but it was becoming impossible to ignore. As they got closer, the air suddenly felt cold, raising goosebumps on her skin and sending a shiver down her spine. The hallway had an eerie aura to it that was beyond explanation; judging from the cautious expressions of everyone around, Olivia knew her feelings were not in her head. Landon appeared to be the only one who didn’t notice the atmosphere shift, although he hadn’t stopped talking long enough to take in the environment.

Just as they were about to arrive, they heard muffled voices speaking not far away. Olivia furrowed her brows and started walking faster, practically running, with Ray and Leo not far behind.

She came to an abrupt stop as she saw a litter of guards standing outside of Penelope’s room; dressed in full riot gear with what she assumed to be loaded assault rifles, all appearing to be awaiting instructions. Standing toward the back of the mass of people was Liam, who was speaking with Bastien in hushed tones. She could tell even from afar he was talking sternly; his angry demeanor instantly drew Olivia to him. Drake lingered close-by, wearing an expression of pure confusion.

Olivia approached them and inquired, “What’s going on?”

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you,” Liam replied. “Did you question Penelope?”

“We were looking for her, that’s why we’re here, now.”

“But you didn’t find her?” Liam snapped, not even trying to hide the annoyance in his tone.

“Not yet…” Leo answered as he took in Liam’s tense shoulders and ticking jaw. “Liam, what is going on?”

Before Liam could respond, Landon interjected himself. “What is the meaning of this?!”

Liam took a deep breath to calm himself and spoke in a calm, yet authoritative voice. “Duke Landon, I understand this may be hard for you to hear, but we have to take Penelope into custody.”

“Custody?! On what grounds?!” Landon hollered.

Liam swallowed down the ball of anger and agitation lodged in his throat and spoke in a flat voice. “She is the prime suspect in the murder of Rhonda Floros.” Everyone’s eyes widened as their jaws hit the floor. “We will investigate further, but she has to be detained until we can–”

“I – what?! You have no proof! This – this is an injustice!” Landon yelled as he frantically paced in front of Penelope’s door.

Leo hesitantly spoke in a hushed manner. “Li, all we knew about was the photographer. How can you jump to that conclusion?”

“The forensics came back and Penelope’s prints were all over the murder weapon. Her DNA was on everything else as well, but I’m focused on that knife.”

“Impossible! There has to be some kind of mistake!” Landon pleaded.

“I’m sorry Landon, but the forensics does not lie,” Liam replied with a sad smile. “Trust me, I don’t want to believe she could have done something like this and I intend to figure it out, but we have to locate her first!"

Landon quickly stepped toward Penelope’s room and pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “She is in here — I know she is; she’s sleeping. I’ll wake her up and we can figure out this mess together, because I know for certain she is innocent.” He spoke as he unlocked the door and turned the handle. He entered and flipped the switch on the wall, the area becoming illuminated.

Liam motioned for the guards to stay outside and followed closely behind. Olivia entered next, followed by Ray. However, a stern hand on Ray’s chest halted him in the doorway.

“You are unauthorized personnel,” Bastien snapped.

Liam quickly intervened. “No, he’s not.”

“Your Majesty, with all due respect, I entered his credentials myself. I know for a fact what clearances he has and doesn’t.”

Liam stepped up to Bastien with narrowed eyes. “Poof.” He snapped his fingers. “I just gave him access. Now, step aside.” He growled through clenched teeth, the vein in his neck profusely popping out.

To be honest, Liam was stalling until he found Ray and Olivia; the three of them were going to question Penelope together. His earlier worries about keeping his cool were well out the window; now he was simply confused. Why did she hire the photographer? Did she really kill that maid? Did Penelope know they had spoken to her? Every piece of random evidence found had Penelope’s DNA – and only hers – on it in some fashion. Although the legitimacy of the scene was still in question, her fingerprints on the murder weapon were more than enough to detain her for questioning.

Bastien never once took his eyes off Ray during the entire interaction. Ray observed Bastien's face crack slightly and saw him swallow and clench his jaw when Liam commanded him to stop. He finally moved his hand to allow Ray entrance, but held his intent gaze for just a moment too long. Olivia watched and noted how she wasn’t stopped, nor Drake or Leo — only Ray. She couldn’t help but wonder why Bastien didn’t want him specifically there.

Liam glanced around as he entered and saw no signs of Penelope and nothing raising any kind of alarm. He’d never been inside this room before, but to the naked eye, not a thing was out of place. However, Liam couldn’t deny the sudden chill he felt as he stepped over the threshold. His skin instantly clammed up, and his heart rate increased substantially with every tense second that passed.

Everyone else followed behind and did the same, but Landon circled the room while frantically calling Penelope’s name, only to get no response. He ducked into the bathroom to check there, but saw no traces of his daughter. Everything appeared just as it was earlier that morning when he personally prepared everything for Penelope’s arrival.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Landon huffed as he reemerged. “She said she was coming to bed. Where else would she go? Should we contact Lady Kiara? They had grown quite close.”

Liam sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Bastien, send someone to Lady Kiara’s room to check.” His patience with this situation was dissipating. An answer was right there dangling in front of his face; he could practically taste it. Even if he had to turn the entire continent upside down, Liam was going to find Penelope and make her answer for her part in this mess — whatever that could have been.

“Yes, sir.”

Olivia glanced at the dresser and saw a jewelry box. Something on top of it quickly caught her attention; it was a piece of paper neatly folded with the words read me written on it in red ink. Her breaths immediately stopped as she stared at it for a long moment. Goosebumps raised on her skin as she realized the penmanship was strikingly familiar.

She slowly reached out and brought it closer; Ray noticed and came to stand beside her to see what she had found. Liam and Landon continued to speak on the other side of the room, completely unaware of their discovery. Olivia carefully unfolded the sheet and quickly scanned over the contents. As she started reading, the color suddenly drained from her face, her hands trembling, and even tears were forming in the corners of her eyes. Her mind instantly started spiraling, trying to decipher what this meant.

Olivia and Ray stood gawking at the paper in a trance for an unidentified amount of time. The sound of Landon’s thunderous voice suddenly brought both out of their dazes. “This is absurd! She did nothing wrong!”

“I understand your frustrations but as I said before, the forensics does not lie,” Liam answered in the calmest tone he could muster. “I have questions about all of this, Landon! But one way or another her DNA was littered–”

“Bullshit! Run the tests again! Something is going on here!”

Liam winced at Landon’s volume, but shook it off and stood to his full height. “Duke Ebrim, you’d do well to remember who you’re speaking to and watch your tone. While I understand why you’re upset, I’m only here to figure this out. If you want to clear her name, help us find her so we can speak to her!”

Landon frantically looked throughout the room, desperately trying to make sense of what was happening. At that moment, they heard a bark, followed by another softer cry; everyone suddenly stilled and an eerie silence took over, as they glanced at one another with furrowed brows. It sounded undeniably close, but there were obviously no dogs in the area. The silence in the air was deafening, but then it happened again and Landon finally pinpointed the location — the closet. It would make sense; Penelope heard the commotion and retreated in there with her poodles to hide because she was afraid.

Landon made a bee-line for the door and wildly swung it open. He took a step back and two fluffy dogs slowly came out with their heads down, causing Landon to take a few steps back; they laid at Landon’s feet and whimpered.

“What is it, Merlie?” Landon asked as he rubbed one of the dogs’ heads, their howls intensifying.

The room’s air suddenly felt incredibly thick at the interaction. Liam felt physically sick to his stomach as recognition swept over him from head to toe — something was waiting for them in that closet. His hands shook at his sides, his breathing shaky and uneven as he stared into the dark, open doorway.

Landon stepped over the poodles, who went and lay on the bed, but continued whining. As he entered, he ran a hand along the wall until he found the switch. The small area came to light, and his worst nightmare suddenly became reality right in front of his face.

“NO!” Landon wailed at an ear-piercing volume as he dropped to his knees near the doorway.

“What’s wrong?” Liam sought, but Landon broke into a fit of sobs and crumpled to the floor.

Liam swallowed thickly and took a couple of cautious steps forward. Olivia suddenly appeared and tried to redirect him, but Liam was steadfast; whatever it was, he needed to see it for himself. As he got closer, he could see a chair lying on its side. His eyesight started on the floor and slowly traveled upward. He hadn’t made it very far before the color drained from his face with sweat immediately beading his brow at seeing a pair of dainty feet dangling in the air; one heel on, the other nowhere to be seen.

Liam looked away but with a shuddered breath followed the body back up to the face, and sure enough, it was Penelope.

Landon suddenly shoved Liam out of the way. “MOVE!” He rushed over and held Penelope’s lifeless form, lifting her easily with one hand; the other quickly moving to remove the belt from around her severely bruised neck. Her limp body dropped into his arms and he cradled her to his chest as he rocked back and forth, making cries that would haunt Liam until the day he died.

Liam regained his footing but remained cemented in place. This was it; this was their big break, but they only received more unanswered questions. Hopelessness flourished, as he saw no other solutions in sight. He felt like a mouse, mindlessly running through a maze just trying to reach the end for the reward. Penelope's testimony was that reward, but instead of finding the end of the maze, he encountered a sudden, abrupt wall.

Regardless of their actions, they faced a grim reality where a devastating setback countered every advance they made; one step forward, only to be met with two deadly steps back.

Liam suddenly couldn’t breathe; his lungs felt like fire with every rapid, hollow breath. The room started spinning, his vision hazing at a rapid rate. His heart pounded mercilessly, the sound overpowering Landon’s continuous wails filling the room. His hands flew to his chest and he stumbled backward, Leo and Drake quickly moving to catch him before he hit the floor.

They lowered him to the ground and sat over him as Liam’s vision slowly faded out, their faces disintegrating into a pixelated, blurry image. He blinked his eyes a few times to regain himself, but found the rapidly spinning room made him nauseous. He felt Leo lightly tapping his cheeks, but when he tried to open his mouth, only an anguished cry escaped.

Liam stared at the ceiling until the bright lights suddenly dimmed. His eyelids grew incredibly heavy until he succumbed to the weight of the world forcing them down. Darkness consumed him as he slipped into unconsciousness, a still silence overcoming his being.

"Goddamn it," Leo grumbled to himself, as he watched Liam’s body relax. "Get a fucking ambulance! Now!" He hollered over his shoulder before his teary vision centered on his brother again. "Cummon, Li..."

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sharuruwrites · 3 months

Text

Cupid

I gave a second chance to Cupid

But now, I'm left here feeling stupid

Oh, the way he makes me feel

That love is not real

Cupid is so dumb

- Cupid by Fifty Fifty

Tags: Fem!Reader, Fluff, Gojo Satoru playing Wingman for Reader, curses and techniques doesn't exist, slice of life, yearning?, Gojo is a brat and asshole, Reader is hopeless romantic, reader is named You, Unedited

N/a: Just thought of this one shot while I was listening to this song, and went "Hmmm...let me add the reason why the Cupid is a dumb b-tch with Gojo's yearning in this shit."

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

PLAYER 1 WINS

The bright red text flashed brightly on the tv as the fighter posed victoriously.

Strange. The lack of competitive yet toxic spirit in You raised concerns from Gojo.

"Something the matter?" Gojo put down his controller beside him. "You're not normally this quiet."

"Satoru," You glanced at him. "Do you hate me?"

No, and if he did, he would rather be dead than live the rest of his life hating her.

"Perhaps, to tease you." Gojo smirked. "But, for your sanity sake, I will say no."

"Then why are you setting me up with shitty dates from the start?!"

You ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated.

"The latest is by far the worst I've gone through! How did you get the idea that I'll enjoy dating a man who's not only a pest, but also has views that are so outdated? He straight up told me that a woman should walk three steps behind him while we're just walking in the park!"

Honestly? It's a genuine mistake on Gojo's part. Desperation times called for desperate measures. However, the failure of You's past dates were part of his intricate plan. His best friends, Suguru and Shoko, called his plan dumb and manipulative, but haters gonna hate. Cringed as it sounded.

The plan that he was so proud of? That he had to play the inverse role of Cupid?

Simple. To make You fall for him.

At first, he mistaken those budding feelings of his similar to familial, given they were close since kindergarten. Yet, he knew it slowly bloomed when You's absence grew his heart fonder as they attended different universities, and found himself looking forward to her said visits. He missed everything about her down to the sound of his name from her voice.

Growing up robbed the only constant in his life – You.

Throughout the years, his friend became a thorough hopeless romantic thanks to the fairy tales she read. She wasn't particularly this aggressive to find love until now. If he were to warrant a guess, perhaps due to peer pressure. Despite the horrendous dates he sent her through, she still held onto the hope of finding her one true love. As the supportive friend and future husband to be, he volunteered to be her matchmaker.

Once she's somewhat defeated by the woes of finding love, he would swoop in and have her fall for him instantly. That's what happened to his parents. Both gave up on dating before they met each other. It worked since they still maintained the blissful matrimony.

"Sorry about that one," Gojo scratched his head. "I just overheard him saying that he needs to go out more."

"I kicked his shin before leaving. So, we're good." You said nonchalantly. "At this rate, I'm going to just ask Suguru. He's a gentleman, don't you think?"

"What makes you think he'll go out with you?" Alarmed, Gojo asked too quickly for his taste.

"Shoko told me once while I was drinking with her." She answered. "Apparently, Suguru is interested in dating me, but he doesn't want to risk his friendship with you or something like that."

That damn alcoholic. He thought Shoko's tolerance to alcohol was higher than Nanami's. How much did You drink to out drink Shoko to the point of loosening her lips?

"No" Gojo crossed his arms. "And, he's busy with his thesis right now."

"How quick of you to shot me down, unless..."

You snapped her fingers.

"Do you like him? I'm not surprised given the ongoing bromance since high school between-"

"I love you, not him." Gojo blurted, interrupting his friend.

You's grip on Gojo's spare controller loosened until it dropped on her lap. Her eyes widened in surprise and mouth gaped open. Confused, Gojo stared at the sudden reaction of his friend. Realization struck him hard like a bullet train upon hearing her next words.

"You love me?" She slowly repeated his words.

WHAT

THE

FUCK

There goes his plans. It went up to flames because of his dumb mistake. At this point, any fucks he had were thrown all out of the window. Gojo confessed everything about his plan to her while Guilt gnawing on his conscience. Because of the said emotion, Fear and Shame joined together and formed intrusive thoughts in his head.

What if she didn't want to be friends with him anymore? What if she started hating him?

"I...don't know what to make of this..." You released a deep breath. "I...don't even know where to start. What happens to us now then?"

He didn't know. Was that the answer he truly wanted to say to You? Doubt and distress didn’t suit a woman like her. So, he would dispel it with a question of his own, and it's up to her in the end. Whether they remained friends or not, he respected her decision.

Gojo took her hand with great care. It was a relief to him that she didn't pull away or flinch from his touch. Gently, his thumb caressed the back of her hand to soothe his nerves. A gesture she always did whenever he needed it.

"I know it's selfish of me to ask this, and I'll accept whatever your answer is but," Gojo frowned, his blue eyes full of sincerity and certainty. "Will you please give this stupid cupid of yours a chance? To give you the love you deserved?

#gojo fluff #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader

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writingismyfortune · 1 year

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wedding vows | dan heng || honkai star rail one shot

published on june 7th, 2023

genre: slice of life, fluff

word count: it’s short ??

synopsis: you’re getting married to dan heng. that’s the gist of it.

a/n: i’m down bad for dan heng fr, i want to e6 him someday…it’s not because i wanna see his e6 picture or anything :)

it is the big day. the happiest day of your life.

today is the day where you are getting married to the love of your life, dan heng.

you two have been dating for 2 years now and the other day, he has got down on one knee and proposed to you, with this simplistic yet beautiful diamond ring. you didn’t hesitate to accept his proposal. that was one of the happiest moments you’ve ever been. but of course, nothing can be compared to the actual wedding day.

isn’t that lovely? after all, that’s what life is about, isn’t it? love only makes life so much more bearable. but even then, sometimes love isn’t enough when the world gets tough.

even then, you two still stayed together despite the hardships. he was there with you when you needed him the most. he told you the most reassuring words that you could think of. of course you’ve done the same with him. you love dan heng and he loves you.

you would believe that you are the luckiest person in the whole world. you sometimes wonder what you did to win dan heng’s heart.

you remember the first kiss you two shared.

you remember the day where you confessed to him and how delighted you felt when he told you that he feels the same.

you remember the day where you realized you fell in love with him.

you remember those teasing jokes that your friends on the express tell you on how much dan heng softened up because of you. you don’t entirely believed it at first, but you do notice how much dan heng has changed when you entered his life. it’s there.

now, today is the day where you walk down the isle with your father. today is the day where you show your fiancée your beautiful white wedding dress. today is the day where dan heng becomes your husband, your partner in life.

when your mother's friends have finished your makeup, you only take one last look in the mirror, holding the bouquet of flowers in your arms. your mom's friends told you that you look drop dead gorgeous and you only said that it was thanks to them.

you truly look stunning, but you wonder how dan heng would react. he tells you that you'd look beautiful in anything, but you'll always have your doubts and insecurities. after all, it is a tradition that the groom cannot see the wedding dress until on the wedding day. so he doesn’t even know what your wedding dress looks like exactly.

taking a deep breath, you walk out of the preparation room with the bouquet of flowers in your arms. one of your mother's friends guide you to the front of the church to walk you down the isle to your soon-to-be-husband.

hearing the loud cheers from your best friend and from your other friends, you only hold in fits of laughter as you walk down the isle. the wedding song of your choice is playing in the background. it truly feels like a fairy tale. taking a glance at your groom, your heart skips a beat because dan heng just looks so good in a suit.

you are falling in love with him all over again.

when you arrive at the altar where your groom stands, dan heng instantly holds both of your hands in his after you give your bouquet to one of your bridesmaids. he looks at you like you’re the most precious person in his life.

the priest said his lines, where he asks questions about the love story between two lovers seeking for matrimony right at this moment. it is a nostalgic trip down the memory lane for you two.

you remember the day where you had your first disagreement with dan heng. of course, it didn’t consist of yelling and violence. you two simply sat down and talked it out.

you remember the day where dan heng was being overprotective of you. this did stir up another major disagreement, but that was sorted out quickly as well. it was only natural for dan heng to be overprotective over you, he wanted to you feel safe and protected, even though you can technically protect yourself.

someone like dan heng made you realize your worth in this world. he truly made you feel like you’re worth it, that you’re enough. those major hardships and struggles were worth it. he was worth it. it was clear that dan heng felt the same and aren’t you so lucky that you are marrying him in this very moment.

you truly feel so blessed.

you catch a glimpse of dan heng’s best man, who was none other than caelus. he gives you a gentle wave with a kind smile on his face. it seems like he’s trying to comfort you in someway (and it did).

before dan heng starts to say his vows to you, your best friend announces that they have a tiny little speech to say. you only look at your best friend with an eyebrow raised, wondering what the hell are they planning. what is going on? your groom was also very much confused, although he tried to hide it with his stoic expression, but his eyes displayed confusion. even the wedding music stopped for a second.

when your best friend walks up to the podium near the alter, they make sure that the microphone is on by tapping on it lightly. when they hear the slight echo throughout the room, they let out a quiet cough and then their speech begins. everyone is listening intently. of course, your parents did have a speech before this, so this isn’t random at all. but it appears that your best friend had different plans when they suddenly wants to do a speech right now, before dan heng says his vows to you.

“hello everyone. it is a joyous day today with one of my best friends finally getting married to the love of her life. it is an honor for me to be here, but i do have a small speech that i want to say before they share their vows.

dan heng is a wonderful guy. i quickly realized how much effort he puts in to make [your name] smile. i realized how much happier [your name] was during these last two years they’ve been together. aren’t i glad to be here today to witness their happiest moments of their life. i am truly proud on how far they came.

i know dan heng is a marvelous guy and i truly believe that he is the one for my best friend here. however…” their voices suddenly go a little quiet, which quickly raises up the tension in the church. “dan heng, if you dare to break [your name]’s dear heart, i will make sure that karma collects your debt. you will reap what you sow.”

there was this silence…this intense silence…

you were trying to hold in your laughter because you kind of expected this from your best friend after all. the corners of your lips are curled up as you cover your mouth with your gloved hand. you bit your lip just so you don’t burst out laughing. dan heng only facepalms while shaking his head and letting out a deep sigh, clearly humiliated by this very moment.

your best friend immediately has a smile on their face and wishes that everyone has a fun time with the wedding. what a sudden change in moods after that subtle threat towards the groom. the tension quickly dissipated when your best friend’s grin came into view.

when your best friend walks down the podium, the wedding music starts to play again, its quiet ambience setting the mood of the wedding again. it truly feels like a movie.

dan heng says his vow, his vow beautifully written and planned out. it sounded like everything came from his very heart and soul. you feel like you might bawl some tears if you weren’t in front of a bunch of people.

he vows to keep you smiling. he vows that he will protect you and keep you safe. he vows that he will love you forever and ever, even when death comes by his door. he vows that no matter what, he will stay by your side for all eternity. he vows that he will love you even if you are at your lowest. he vows that he will take care of you. he vows that the love that he shares with you will never die.

last and not least, he vows that he will do his best to make you the happiest woman on this planet. after all, he feels like he is the happiest man on this planet when he is around you.

now it’s your turn to say your vows. your vows may not be as wondrous and beautiful as dan heng’s, but it is certainly very direct.

you vow that you will stay by dan heng’s side no matter what. you vow that you will never leave his side. you vow that you’ll continue to provide kindness and support for him. you vow that you’ll be there for him, even when he’s at his lowest. you vow that he will always be the one you truly love deeply no matter what. you vow that the love you have for him will forever pierce through the darkness, even if the world gets tough.

finally, you also vow that you will provide a home for dan heng. you notice that dan heng is also on the brink of tears, but he’s also holding them in.

the priest then presents the wedding rings. dan heng gently puts the wedding ring on your ring finger for you, his other hand still holding your hand. it was a simplistic wedding ring, but you didn’t mind it at all. then you put on the wedding ring for dan heng, your kind fingers sliding the ring on his ring finger softly.

the priest then gives you two a nod.

“i now pronounce you to be husband and wife. you may now kiss the bride.” he gently pronounces to you both with a polite smile.

dan heng leans in and gives you a soft, gentle kiss on your lips, a hand softly caressing a side of your face. his other arm is securely around your waist to keep you close. you have your arms around his neck while you softly kiss him back, with the audience cheering loudly for this beautiful occasion. everyone is celebrating and having a splendid time.

your best friend in particular is screaming their lungs out while clapping their hands like a seal. they were probably the loudest in the room.

your best friend is the highlight of the party honestly, you have to admit.

during this loud celebration, you both pull away from the kiss. dan heng only continues to caress your face while whispering in your ear to tell you look beautiful in that dress.

you whisper in his ear in response, saying he looks very handsome in a suit. dan heng’s cheeks go a little red and silently thanks you.

dan heng can’t help, but notice your best friend’s rowdy antics. he only sighs deeply again while shaking his head, looking at you with an expression of embarrassment and humiliation once more.

“[best friend’s name] is oddly being the loudest one despite them subtly threatening me earlier.” his expression truly looked like he was done with your best friend’s antics. you couldn’t help but laugh as a response to his deadpanned face. it is quite a funny sight after all.

“but they mean well, dear.” dan heng just sighs again at what you said. you only chuckle lightly as a response.

you pull him in for a gentle hug, your arms around his neck firmly, his face buried into your shoulder. you can smell his pinewood cologne that he usually has on. he didn’t hesitate to hug back, his arms wrapped around your waist tightly while taking a whiff of your wonderful lavender scent.

“i love you.” you whisper in his ear, as if they are words that are only meant for your husband.

“i love you too.” he whispers just as quietly with a gentle, warm smile on his face.

this is truly the happiest day of your life.

end of one shot. next chapter: n/a

#dan heng #honkai star rail #honkai dan heng #caelus #hsr dan heng #dan heng x reader

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