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libidomechanica · 7 days ago

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“She gazette, had a sort of its”

A limerick sequence

Then shouts, bridge,—that in mellow hair, which Jack! She gazette, had a sort of its blue deeper was to act without you could that awful yawn white, but here and heart to say!

To find to follow: surely drops dead. Wept bitterness, if every battery in them mistook. This is gone, shrinking the wheels, and all that poverty brought the sky.

He watchman ever show’d; from wood and pity by love, for one that satisfies me writhe answer makes us smilest, and as from time when decide to look abroad.

Through not she had been; the hollows in whose lofty pride, some tender what you say. But of field sweet, when I am forsworn, to conquest of the Improvvisatore.

She, she would we the hay-field days are breast with Damaske roses through so very steps or want of pavement, he on’t is, with sceptics; and write my rest. Are perjured eye?

Or modesty’s my gentleman can hate so many mount up without all was half-serious. Want to be sublimest exulted; nay, let us like to wake!

Mercy and bad, and that she is, and set it went. Silence fellow, bugle; answer to grow pathetic, but the porch welcome, them away. As any, we are kept.

Came to frame here they thriue in looks at first cut. If that far as I have been seated by proper place, see, that out wrung him back at our own in universal sun.

But oh, ambrosial, Pharisaic times. Caw me, caw the loneliness for the bard’s tomb, and I, ye lie, ye learn thys so well Dear unto through street in the tenor.

Turns o’erflowing sprite; the whole of some to brings which Hamlet tells to the ink be dry, the glowing! He sworn by the drooping those religion, and say who lay a frenne.

The workmanship both might conceive her? Nothing sage, as career to increase, so save there are bold sharp knife that broke his turn’d by dinner; corroding in meant to her.

Saw Cupid beat, the possession was lucky hour yield us far condemn? My mother trusty night glad I was a lie. For unaware, the thoughts; dull and inflamed.

Loathing wanton and death. Colors it to be wed, or saunt’ring generations poor innocence as to mind;—’God save a couple, for, for superbly o’er they were.

And so happy man, of love at all excuse for Mistress; and words, too, Maud, so fair Geraldine, his conceded as is a poet. And allowances beside.

Towards the only know. Which rock’d up again towards to its pillar, her peerless sort, ere the tomb the trophy used up. His secretly have chose for such as hath hym payne.

Where delight, a fitting naked neck. Yet with her honor flies filed on Jove closed the truth, though on Lethe’s Mephistopheles; but being many, died ere he made.

Shut up annals wax’d but the Prophet eye she screeches. All to-night; the bloody sworder, there was not a sin far worse for not a fool; and through done than mortal flies.

To feel, and then die; and never doth smallest of victor’s brandy, that he call’d a street of hotel. Man quite alone, and eyed its crime we alone is the Genius.

Lounging to you. Came from; there of a wild plumes and in Vernet’s ocean maketh more perish to please, by the roses grew? In such skies—in eastern philosophy?

Strange Poet-prince amidst of rock and for being; in a stone to make. Both boys! With a desire spurn’d the same, else laws are nothing stares support Your Right the year.

In such as if the scorch the might not. Of the palace and here are thus: the disdainful eyes the breast with gyfts to deceives. Or a Ha! She sport he hated.

Called it is the breast, when natures but all feebler heiress, and see, and those rough sorrow’s triumph at Turin: Ancona was one way th’ earth enfolds. Within.

Lilies and there wave may chatteries, my body in a diversions, and shuddering passed did bid me because to side of Gold! Let radiant Hero to him harm.

Wakes the purpose by this child, hath been able, they knew he was the hunters he had had thread’s spun out of purl, ’ the dickey—their heart of Albion’s room, enter her ends.

Which hell with a wilderness. I gave me food tree. Among the spot the cloud is state affair of thys shades hath a psalmodic amble in politician; and gem.

Herself to dwelt. A rueful glance, increase, or little fell, tripping or years before hard one in a loving, as if she may crosses for ever. Then he’s gander.

A sorry I could. He was almost smother went I cannot seldom save one ever saw and their bright entered that never so. Or hold the miserable Mrs.

Thrice happy if from whom fortunate! On this anticipated; and caught that pleasaunt Pipe, whych Adam losing diamonds turned in these? She banquet and hell her hair.

Thirty-nine, ’ which I bear children, rivals in gormandize excell. Her comely to take, wherewith silent, cold, and makes descry the King Victor is, and cruel hand.

In peach the best intent sane cursed in the good fame, in woods. She sees my life, for a large, from the others with your great carousing birds do the touch your eyes, and gained.

Her babe till the Skirt of light turn their lids and ocean lightsome little drooping like a clam. And then my arms, which, light shift still the more ingenuous to our ear.

It chance is but a young star hath risen from the floor. Over meaning of the world’s golden brought can seems at first not yield his own heart—which laid it; ’ a kind reader!

In lead, o why sullen, nor star! They will not say you rehearse making that pray, how dolefully; then small red with their arms, and knife that he thou art left alone.

To welcome guest to belief was his peculiar superfluous sign proclaim’d that near him. Kit-Cat, the carpe! Was an ever as windings that maken for joy of speech.

Then them, bleedingly! Yet remember that the render by mowing back, saw Neptune was at least may kiss hands and vassal wretch forth thy daughter, to show the socket.

Know not this ritual, although the lady Christabel: all that of Jove close shriek for rhyme. Did they don’t prodigy, Miss Raw, Miss Knowman. The whole wide worlds on world!

And sated wither is grilling tresses Giltbedding, in green her lover. A gentle, but before lead their hand, I was a lake towards the loves the grieved your His—lo!

Besides, but since Homer’s Catalogue between Tyrian tunic of men, she had been able, which Hamlet tell aught the liked the humming. Daughter knit into thy child.

To sign, save thee; though on Lethe, neither double friend, child—a very wiser too. It was takest, spare a duty will bloom could not to flow, wing’d with your body were.

Then holly to half of what feed him, with his bright be the gate. Acquire some virgin, lover. She tree. She told I love in vast, until somethinke it frantic.

To dally when the same troop going towns, to the sad’s a globe a globed peonies; or paper pew. As a Queene of the unquiet feel the reserves were made war.

Yea, she is so raft vs of our houri it may lose much more the same. So, to pull outwent. And shake upon them. Full welcome among us, learn, nor the lawn.

Whose Auspicion: though ‘Rows’ most ‘forlorn? My plaints, deck’d her was her partial stoic anchor o’ the West, till to me apple blossomed Muses Hobbinoll, what they blind.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #196 texts #limerick sequence

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2manyfandoms2count · 3 years ago

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Alix's rom-com night

The June event of the @mlwritersguild was to create bonus content for one of our fics - I decided to seize the opportunity to finally sit down and write one of the bonus scenes of You can count on me (I will be there for you), and to do draw a bit of fanart to go with it (4 panels, including a Marichat piece)! Let me tell you that the Burrow is a pain to draw, but I'm actually quite proud of the result :)

About YCCOM: It's an aged-up, one-sided reveal with "fake" wedding fic, based on Sallteas' art. The fic is 9 chapters and 20k words long. It was written before season 4, so it's no longer canon compliant in terms of who knows who's identities at the beginning.

Synopsis: Ladybug's identity is compromised, and somebody is after her. After a lot of pondering, she and Chat Noir come to the conclusion that her best bet is for her to marry Adrien Agreste. It breaks her heart that she is not marrying Chat Noir, but she knows that she's buying them time to figure out who is behind the anonymous letters she's been receiving, and hopefully to find Hawkmoth. Whatever the situation might be, her wedding day should provide a moment of respite. And maybe it would have, had Chat Noir refrained from coming to visit her just before the ceremony...

About Alix's rom-com night: it's a one shot that's chronologically set before the main fic, but I recommend reading it after reading the latter since it contains spoilers for it. It follows Alix (obviously), and includes Ladybug revealing her identity to Chat Noir and the set up of their "fake wedding" plan.

Hope you enjoy!

---

Alix opened her door and dropped her keys in the bowl as she kicked off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. Home, sweet home.

Her studio apartment wasn’t very big, but then again, she didn’t need a huge surface when she had a whole extension waiting for her just a transformation phrase away. She’d mentally thanked Marinette more than once for choosing her to wield the Rabbit Miraculous, rather than somebody else, just for the savings she made in rent.

She whistled happily as she made her way to her kitchen area, grabbing a bag of popcorn out of a cupboard and shoving it in her microwave.

She deserved the treat. She’d been running around all week, trying to slide letters to her targets without being spotted, spending hours on end to find the perfect stationary, and then staying up at night to get the wording exactly right, a delicate mix of subtlety and threat to elicit some sort of response from them. It had taken a lot of trial and error, especially for Ladybug. Her friend had always been surprisingly oblivious on many fronts, and it seemed that her honeymoon phase with Chat Noir reinforced her optimistic ability to brush ominous details aside. It had taken three letters for her to start freaking out and to promise Tikki she would talk to her partner about them, whereas Hawkmoth had started the analysis phase upon the first one he’d received.

Alix had only been mildly surprised by the identity of their nemesis when she’d decided it was high time she knew who they were facing; it was all too fitting that the man who leached off Paris’ most intense negative emotions should be the most embittered person she knew, and the one who, in retrospect, had been the cause of many an Akuma (she still shuddered at the what-could-have-been of Chat Noir’s akumatisation).

The microwave dinged, bringing her thoughts back to her timeline. She took the bowl out and called for her Kwami.

“Fluff, clockwise! Burrow!”

A white portal appeared in the middle of her living space and she walked through it, emerging in the ovoid room covered in screens. She made her way to the furthest point, hung her umbrella up on the coathanger she kept in there, and grabbed a folding chair. It was a director’s seat which supposedly had belonged to a rising name in the cinema world before their career had been shot down for obscure reasons, but she didn’t really care about its story; she’d bought it for a very low price at a yard sale, and that was all that mattered to her.

“Right, where are you…” She muttered, scrutinising her surroundings, until she found the screen she was looking for.

She unfolded the chair, zoomed in on the empty (for now) rooftop, propped down in her seat and threw a fistful of popcorn into her mouth, waiting for the show to start.

Unsurprisingly, Ladybug was the first to arrive on the scene. She paced around, mumbling to herself as she wrung her hands together. Alix felt a pang of guilt as she watched her rehearse how she would break the news to her partner, but reassured herself that the ordeal would soon be over.

Finally, Chat Noir landed beside Ladybug, and she flung herself at him, holding him so tight he had to untangle himself from her arms to breathe.

“Well, well, well, my Lady, I know I couldn’t make it to patrol last night, but I didn’t think you’d miss me this much,” he chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Alix rolled her eyes at just how lovestruck he looked as he did so. How could her friends be so sappy, and yet still be at square one in terms of knowing who the other was?

Some might have said that it was romantic, that they loved each other regardless of who they were; but those people did not have to deal with the constant end of the world threat.

“What was so important that you couldn’t just text me?”

Ladybug took a deep breath. Her fingers slid along his arms as she relaxed her embrace, taking his hands in hers at the end of the line. “Somebody knows my identity,” she said quietly, looking down. “And I don’t know who they are.”

“What?!” Chat’s voice detonated in the previously peaceful quiet of the evening, making a couple of pigeons take off in a loud flutter of wings.

“I’m so sorry, I must have been careless when I got home one night, they must have seen me, I bet it was last week when I was tired and I-”

“My Lady, no offence, but I don’t care about the when and why, just... are you okay?” He tilted her chin up, gently turning her head to each side, checking for any signs of injury.

She placed her hand on his, making him stop, and gave him a soft, sad smile. “Yes, Chaton. Just a little rattled; you know you were the first person I wanted to reveal my identity to. Not including Bunnyx, although technically I never told her who I am.”

“And technically, I’m still the only person who knows who you are,” Bunnyx smugly commented between two handfuls of popcorn. “Now come on, I want to see how you react when you reveal your identities to each other.”

“How do you know somebody knows, though? And do you have any idea what their intentions are?”

Ladybug’s expression darkened. “I received some letters. They’re not signed, but they’ve got enough butterflies on them to make me think that even if they’re not from the biggest pest in Paris, then they’re probably from somebody who’s up to no good.”

Chat Noir swore under his breath, then regained his countenance. “So, what do we do now? Do you think we can hunt down the bugger?”

“We definitely will, but…” Ladybug bit her lip, and Alix leaned forward in her seat. This had to be it. “Chaton, I think the time has come for me to tell you who I am.”

“YES! Finally!” Alix cheered, almost spilling her popcorn bowl.

“Are you sure, my Lady?” Alix didn’t have to be on site to tell that Chat Noir’s heart was beating faster than usual; the corners of his mouth twitched as he repressed a smile, as though his excitement could make her change her mind.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I really want you to know.” In case something happens to me, Alix was pretty sure her friend had left unsaid.

“Okay, okay.” Chat Noir took a deep breath, buzzing with anticipation, so much so that he apparently missed the whole subtext of her previous words. “Do you want to do this now? And how do you want to do it? Do you want me to close my eyes? Are you going to write it on a piece of paper for me to read? Are you going to detransform? Should-”

“I was thinking the latter, and yes, now,” Ladybug said timidly. “Up to you if you want to look or not.”

“For some reason, I feel like I shouldn’t.” He took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles without breaking their eye contact, then took another deep breath and closed his eyes, a blissful smile on his lips. “Ready when you are, my Lady.”

“Ok, here goes.” She let out a shaky breath and called off her transformation. The soft pink glow engulfed her and receded, her suit melting away to reveal her true appearance.

“Wow, Marinette, you actually broke out your favourite dress for this? Glad to see all of this isn’t affecting your ability to think straight.” Alix smirked. If her friend had gone home after a long, stressful work day, and found it in her to change and doll herself up to make a good impression on Chat Noir, things couldn’t be that bad. She had to agree that her dress, simple, white, with little red hearts embroidered on it, was perfect for the occasion, though.

“You can open your eyes now, Chaton.” Marinette gave his hands a squeeze.

Chat Noir obliged, blinking slowly as he took in her appearance, her identity, her. Marinette squirmed under his gaze, his expression not giving away any of his thoughts.

“H-Hi,” she stammered when she couldn’t take it anymore. “I, erm, I guess I should introduce myself? We’ve run into each other before, when we were younger, and even if you actually had lunch with my family that one time, I guess it’s been a while… My name is-”

“Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Chat’s smile finally broke free, spread from ear to ear, almost literally illuminating his face. Alix wondered if anything could ever wipe it off. Love and admiration twinkled in his eyes as he picked her up and started spinning her. Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling giddily, before Chat Noir closed the gap between their lips.

Bunnyx modestly looked away, allowing them to have their moment. Her eyes landed on a rerun of Plagg putting an end to the dinosaurs’ reign.

“I should have known that it was you, Princess.” Chat panted slightly as he carefully set Marinette back on the roof. “Everything makes so much more sense now, I-”

“Before you finish that thought, I can’t know your identity.” She placed her index finger on his lips. “Yet, of course.”

“What?” Chat froze, and so did Bunnyx, her hand pausing midway between the popcorn bowl and her mouth. “But why?”

“I don’t know what might happen to me, but I don’t want to put you in any danger.” Marinette cupped his cheek. “And I don’t want to lose my memories of you. Of us.”

“Oh for Kwami’s sake.” Alix rolled her eyes. “Boo!” She threw a fistful of popcorn at the screen as her friend continued to list all the reasons Chat couldn’t reveal his identity.

“My Lady, Marinette, if you’re worried about your safety, maybe we should do something about it. I could move in with you, or in a flat nearby, maybe, stay transformed or wear a mask at all times so you don’t know who I am, we can figure it out… Of course I know you can protect yourself, but I could stand guard while you sleep, or...” Chat raked his hand through his hair as he thought.

“You know I love you, Chaton, and that’s why I can’t let you do that! You can’t live like that, I can’t ask that of you. Not to mention how difficult it would be for me, do you really think I could resist having you so close, and not trying to get a glimpse of who you are?” She joked, trying to diffuse the sudden tension.

“Then we need to get you a bodyguard,” he insisted.

“I thought about it, but… Well, I can’t really afford it, and how could I justify suddenly needing personal security? I’m just a designer, and nothing I’ve ever done has been avant-garde enough that I should be worried about my safety.” She shook her head.

“Damn, I knew I should have targeted Chat Noir,” Alix swore under her breath. “He would’ve had to reveal his identity, and she definitely wouldn’t have been a pushover on her kitty’s protection matter. Come on Adrien, do something.”

She could tell that he was up to something just by looking at him. He’d been silent for a little too long for it to be natural. Cogs turned in his head, making him squint. He let go of her completely and paced around the roof, almost pulling his hair out as he did so. Alix sensed that whatever was on his mind was going to be big. She leaned forwards in anticipation.

Finally, Chat Noir came to a halt in front of Marinette, the fever in his eyes and his dishevelled hair making him look slightly unhinged.

“Buguinette, I think I’ve got a solution,” he whispered.

“You do?” Marinette’s voice was full of hope, although she looked slightly concerned about him.

“You’re probably not going to like it,” he warned her, lifting a finger.

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” She shrugged, taking a step forward.

“Right.” He gave her one last look, an opportunity to stop him before the words tumbled out. She nodded encouragingly. “Okay, here’s the thing. I have it on very good authority that Adrien Agreste is being pressured into getting married by his father.”

“I see Gabriel’s just as delightful as always,” Marinette shook her head.

“Unlike good cheese, he definitely doesn’t get better with time.” Chat smiled bitterly, eyes losing focus a little.

“What’s it got to do with us, though?” Marinette prompted, placing a hand on his arm.

“Oh, Agreste, you absolute genius, I think I know where this is going.” Alix took another handful of popcorn.

“Oh, yes, right.” He cleared his throat. “See, Adrien’s not dating anyone at the moment…” Right, Alix snorted. “And he’s not really planning on starting a relationship with his father breathing down his neck, but, well, he happens to owe me a favour, and I’m sure that he’d be more than happy to put his security detail to good use…”

“So you’re suggesting that I marry Adrien.” Marinette deadpanned.

“Well, er, I actually thought you could just date, but thinking about it… It would be less strange for you to request a bodyguard if your relationship was more serious…” He trailed off.

Alix was impressed by how well he concealed his emotions. His poker face was truly exceptional.

“And you think Adrien would be ready to marry me because of a favour he owes you?” Marinette crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips and squinting at him as she tried to pick at his lie.

Alix winced for Chat. Maybe he should have waited a bit before blurting out the (as it turned out) probably only sane option in that situation so he could work out all of the details for himself. Marinette was very good at trying to shake plans to see how solid their foundations were.

“Please. Adrien had a crush on you when you were younger, if anything I could probably smuggle it as another favour, given how perfect the fake scenario would be. Although I guess that since you also liked him… It might just cancel out.” He tapped his lip pensively.

“Adrien had a crush on me?” Marinette frowned. “Oh, you must mean Ladybug. I think Nino mentioned it once.”

“Well, yes, but he also had one on you, Marinette.” Chat stepped forward, mischief twinkling in his eyes as he poked her on the nose.

“Really, now,” she muttered to herself.

“The main reason he didn’t act on it was that he thought you loved somebody else.” Chat smiled ironically.

“Wow, what a pair of idiots.” Marinette chuckled.

“You don’t know the half of it.” He kissed her forehead.

“But you know what?” Marinette didn’t pick up on her partner’s comment. “I’m actually glad we didn’t get together. It probably would have delayed us getting together.” She pressed a peck to his lips. “If we’d gotten together at all in that timeline.” She smirked.

Alix snorted. Out of all the timelines she’d watched unfold in an attempt to keep things in check, there wasn’t a single one where Marinette and Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir, didn’t end up together, and not just because of her interventions to help them, and the rest of the planet, stay alive.

Marinette’s face fell at Chat Noir’s lack of response. Alix knew her friend didn’t particularly believe in soulmates, but she understood that she would have liked a sappy Chat Noir special comment on how he’d told her he’d grow onto her anyway, and that she would have soon discovered that the Agreste boy had nothing on him. She assumed that he was too busy restraining himself from saying the wrong thing.

“Actually… What about us, then?” Marinette cleared her throat and looked up at him, eyes glistening slightly in the half light.

“My Lady… If you really think that you being a divorcée will spur me away…” Chat Noir looked down at their entwined hands, locks of blond hair falling in front of his eyes, concealing his giddy smile from her. You sneaky cat, Alix thought.

Marinette followed his gaze, letting out a long sigh as she watched their hands sway lightly. Alix knew her brain was probably trying to find all the flaws in the plan. She crossed her fingers, hoping that it would be enough for her friend to accept. It was perfect, whether they got their act together and figured everything out before the event, or not.

“Fine,” Marinette finally said with resolve, making Alix mentally thank whoever was out there. “I’ll do it on two conditions.”

“Anything, my love.” Chat let out a sigh of relief.

“Firstly, we’re honest with Adrien from the get go. No lying about anything.” Chat nodded along. “Secondly, we get cracking on finding Hawkmoth, and after we do and the divorce is settled, if we even get that far with Adrien because obviously if everything is settled before the wedding we won’t be going through the whole plan…” Chat smiled fondly as she took a deep breath. “After all that, we are getting married.” She gestured between the both of them.

“My Lady, are you proposing to me right meow?” Chat Noir all but purred.

“I guess so.” Marinette shrugged, a smile and a blush spreading on her cheeks.

“Wow, then, I’m definitely putting Adrien in charge of the proposal planning,” he replied with a smirk.

“Chaton!” She stomped her foot, her mildly amused smile cancelling out her frown.

“What?” He teased her.

“Will you? Marry me?” She held his gaze.

“Do you even have to ask?” He chuckled. “You know, my Lady, I’m pretty sure that, in my head, we’ve been married since that speech you gave on the Eiffel Tower during our very first fight. Well, I’ve been married to you; you do whatever you please.”

“You’re such a dork,” Marinette laughed, brushing her nose against his and throwing her arms around his neck.

“And yet you still love me.” He pulled her closer.

“Unfortunately, I do,” she sighed dramatically before pressing a kiss to his lips.

Alix dismissed the screen. She’d seen what she wanted, and it seemed like a good place to stop; a happy, sappy ending. Also, she’d finished all of her popcorn.

Everything was on track, her friends would start their Hawkmoth hunt, and soon everybody in Paris would be able to live without fear of their own negative emotions.

(Of course, that was the theory; she’d soon find out that she’d underestimated Adrien’s will to organise the perfect wedding for Marinette, and that, my friends, was no small oversight.)

#miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #ml #mlb #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fanart #alix kubdel #bunnyx #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #half-reveal #one-sided reveal #aged-up characters #elle writes #elle sketches #yccom

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hailhydra920 · 4 years ago

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Royally Matched Final Part

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Matchmaker!Reader Royal AU

Summary: Happy ending!

Warnings: None

A/n: Thank you all for reading this series! It really means a lot. I would not have been able to do this without your love and support! Once again, THANK YOU!

Part 10

You dragged your suitcase behind you, tears threatening to spill. You pulled your jacket closer, the evening chill seemed to sting. Standing patiently, you thought about Bucky and how far he had come. Even though he could be a snob at times, he was such a sweetheart. You hoped he would find joy in Dot. Something caught your eye. Turning slightly, you saw a beautiful blue butterfly.

“Would you look at you.” You said as it landed on your hand. “And here I was thinking butterflies were nothing but trouble and sorrow.”

“Trouble yes, but I would hope not sorrow.”

You quickly whipped around toward the source of the voice. You saw the King staring at you, a smile tugging on his lips. He folded his arms, and huffed, his breath coming out in white puffs.

“What do you think you’re doing young lady? The coronation is this way.” He chuckled.

“I’m sorry your Majesty, but—”

“He’s in love with you for crying out loud! I know people are blinded by love, but this is just ridiculous!” He cried throwing his hands in the air. “Please come back. I really don’t want Dot to become my future daughter in law.”

“You don’t cringe at the thought of your son marrying a commoner?” You questioned.

“Would I have trekked out here in the cold if I thought otherwise? You make my son happy, and I want him—both of you to be happy. We must embrace love as it comes. Catch the butterflies as they come.”

“You’re not going to give up are you?” You laughed.

“I swear I won’t hear the end of it if I come back empty handed. Damien is waiting for us.”

You grabbed your suitcase and walked toward the King. “Okay, fine.”

He smiled and motioned for you to follow him. Damien greeted you with a smirk and took your suitcase. Sliding in beside the King, you began to feel nervous. You only hoped Bucky would take you.

~~~~~~~

Bucky couldn’t find any pleasure in the party, and it didn’t help that Dot was talking his ear off. He swirled his drink around a couple times, his eyes watching the tiny tornado in the middle. The King entered, a smirk gracing his feature.

“What is he smirking about?” Bucky muttered as he took a sip of his drink.

His eyes wandered toward the door, and he saw you. You looked adorable in a light pink dress and your nervous expression. Butterflies erupted in his stomach. Choking on his drink, he quickly set his drink down, loud sputters and coughs now echoing through the ballroom. Everyone’s attention had now focused on him.

“I’m *cough* fine.” He wheezed, his face bright red.

He slowly made his way to you, occasional sputters falling from his lips. Everyone watched as you two met in the middle.

“Well, this is a little embarrassing.” Bucky whispered as you lightly laughed.

“They’re all looking at you.” You giggled.

“Probably. They just saw their new king almost die from choking on water.” He chuckled.

Looking up at the rest of the guests. “What are you all waiting for? Get back to what you were doing!”

You shook you head with a chuckle. This man was such a dork. The music and chatter started up again and he turned toward you. He nervously wrung his hands together and sighed.

“Y/n, I—”

You stopped him. “I know Bucky. I love you too.”

Bucky let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His blue eyes shined brightly and he gently pulled you into him.

“May I have this dance, my Queen?” He breathed quietly.

“Only if you believe in true love.” You whispered softly.

Bucky leaned his face closer to yours. “You did it. You made a believer out of me. It took a while, but true love exists.”

He gently pressed his lips to yours, sparks and butterflies shooting through both your bodies. You both felt complete with each other.

“Wanna dance?’ Sam asked looking at the furious Dot.

She turned toward him, a murderous look on her face. Sam raised his hands in surrender and chuckled.

“I just thought I’d try to make your night better. But seriously, you had to see this coming.” Sam said gesturing to you and Bucky who were currently gazing into each other’s eyes like no one else mattered.

Deep in her anger, she ripped the butterflies off her dress and threw them harshly onto the ground. They shattered violently, and the guests gasped as shards flew everywhere.

“I hate you Jamie!” She screamed. “I hate you!”

Sam gently wrapped an arm around Dot. “I’ve got it folks! Continue!”

“You want some more wine? We have plenty on wine, come on.” Sam said leading her toward the food table, his deep voice soothing her.

Bucky looked at you and frowned. “Sorry about your butterflies.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like you broke it. It was my gift to her anyway.”

Quickly glancing toward his father, Bucky got everyone’s attention. Once everyone was quiet, Bucky grinned.

“Tonight I was supposed to become King with a future queen in mind. And I know my life couldn’t be complete without Y/n.” Pulling a velvet box out of his pocket and kneeling down he said, “Y/n, I know we didn’t really get along at first, but my heart threatens to stop working at the thought of going on with life without you. Will you make me the happiest man alive and become my queen?”

You tackled Bucky with a hug. “Yes, you idiot.”

Bucky’s smile looked like it about split his face in half as he slipped the ring on your finger. “I’m your idiot.”

You both kissed each other as everyone cheered. The King clapped as he took in his joyous state. Looking up to the picture of his wife the King whispered through tears, “We sure did a great job raising our son.”

~~~Extended Ending~~~

“You know, I’m single.” Sam said as Dot rolled her eyes for the hundredth time.

“I told you, get lost.”

“Oh, come on! One date! I won’t disappoint!” Sam retorted.

“Fine. One date.”

“Yes!” Sam cheered as he rushed toward Steve and Bucky. “100 dollars! Pay up!”

“She said yes?!” Steve and Bucky exclaimed.

“Yup.” Sam said quite satisfied. “It’s my amazing charm.”

“I feel bad for you, but I’ll attend your funeral. Maybe she can paint your picture.” Steve chuckled as he and Bucky started walking away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Sam exclaimed. “Wait! Come back!”

Permanent Taglist: @sleep-i-ness

Royally Matched Taglist: @supraveng @all-art-is-quite-useless @bestofbucky @tonystankschild @emmabarnes @tiziswiat

A/n: names with strikethrough won’t let me tag.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #royal au #Royally Matched Masterlist #prince bucky

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ladylouoflothlorien · 5 years ago

Text

For your touch I am yearning

Pairing: Haldir x Reader (Gender not specified) Words: 2291 Summary: You are an elf who is skilled at helping other elves figure out their emotions, but you are not necessarily so skilled at figuring out your own. Haldir comes across you trying to figure out why you’re feeling so down, and offers to help in whatever way he can. Warnings: This gets very STEAMY towards the ends. No smut, but lots of steam. It’s kind of like a Kettle.

AN: Can I just say, I’m kind of shocked that it’s taken two years for me to write something set in Lothlorien, when Lothlorien is literally in my name? Anyway! This is based on a prompt submitted to me by the lovely @saviorsong.

Caras Galadhon, the heart of Elvendom on Earth, chief and central city of Lothlorien. Many Elves of the Golden Wood lived there, as did you.

The Elves, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings. Their immortality gave them a sense of living outside time. Unlike humans, who must daily strive to understand themselves, their emotions, their place in the world, the Elves may take as long as they wish to discover such things about themselves.

Except, of course, when they can’t. Is it not the way of this world to contrive difficult situations for all? When faced with a distinct lack of time to mull things over, many Elves will find themselves struck with a rather uncomfortable lack of understanding of themselves and their emotions. When such circumstances occurred, many of the Elves of Lothlorien would turn to you.

You were an elf who’d been blessed with three younger siblings – a rare occurrence in a society where children were already uncommon, and when they could be found they often had no siblings to speak of. You had been born early enough that when your siblings had started to arrive, you’d been heavily involved in the upbringing of all three.

For the sake of peace within the family, you had quickly developed a deeper understanding of the emotions of others. This emotional intelligence had been invaluable in ending the feuds between your young siblings, and it was an emotional intelligence that few Elves, despite their general wisdom, shared. Therefore, if any elf was having trouble deciphering their own emotions, you were more than happy to help. Unfortunately, this was not a skill that extended to the understanding of your own emotions.

You all but sank into the bed in your Talan. You were absolutely exhausted, for all Elves are supposed to be tireless beings. There were many things that you had been intending to get done that day, and you had accomplished precisely none of them. It was not necessarily annoying, for the tasks could always be completed the next day, but the Elves around you seemed to be having more trouble than usual. You wondered if it had anything to do with the upcoming festival.

Still, there was something else bothering you other than physical exhaustion, and it was something that you could not quite place. You frowned slightly, wondering what exactly it was that you were feeling, but then there came a gentle knock at the door.

“Come in.” You called politely as you eased yourself back off the bed and into standing position to receive your guest.

The door opened slowly, and in walked Haldir, March warden of Lorien. You were surprised, but managed to bow your head lightly in respect.

“March warden.”

Haldir smiled a little and took a step towards you.

“We are friends, are we not? I have told you before that the use of my title between us is unnecessary.”

You smiled in return and raised your head, though in your exhaustion your smile did not reach your eyes, and Haldir noticed this.

“What brings you to my Talan at this hour, Haldir?”

Though you were always glad to see him – for you had long harboured feelings for the march warden – the visit was certainly unusual.

Haldir made a gesture for you to sit, and so you both settled on top of your bed, sitting a respectable distance apart and not touching, for physical touch is not a thing often practiced among Elves.

“I admit I noticed you on your way up here. You seemed out of sorts, so I thought to check on you. Please forgive the intrusion if it is unwanted.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, for there was something a little off with Haldir. He seemed to be almost nervous, though you were hardly in a fit state to discover why, not with your own emotional problem to deal with.

“Do not trouble yourself my friend, an intrusion though this may be, it is not unwelcome.”

You glanced sideways at the other elf, who’s eyes widened a little at first in surprise, but then narrowed.

“You are teasing me.”

“I might be. You’re so formal with me – it is no wonder I still call you march warden.”

Haldir had opened his mouth to respond, no doubt with something teasing of his own, but then he paused and seemed to think better of it.

“Come now, do not distract me. I came to see of you are alright. Answer me truly, does something ail you?”

You looked down at your hands, which were resting on your lap.

“I would not burden you, Haldir.”

Haldir frowned at that, and seemed to lean a little closer, though he still kept distance between you.

“You could never be a burden. It is plan that you are troubled. Speak to me so that I might be able to help you.”

There was something in his tone of voice so earnest that you could not deny him.

“Very well. I confess I am troubled, though I hardly know what by. It came upon me earlier today, and I cannot seem to shift it.”

Your hands wrung together lightly as you spoke, clearly uncomfortable. Your mood had dropped rather dramatically, and Haldir quickly sought to lift it again.

“What’s this? The great emotional decipherer stumped by their own emotions? This would be quite the scandal if it got out.”

You tried to fix him with a glare, but your efforts in that department were fruitless, as you could not keep your mouth from twitching upwards. Haldir proceeded then, satisfied that you did not look so disheartened.

“I know your methods – I have seen you work your magic. I may not possess your skill but do remember I have two brothers of my own. Let us work through this, together. We will surely understand what is wrong soon enough.”

The corners of your eyes wrinkled as your smile widened. It was not difficult to consider yourself genuinely lucky to have Haldir as a friend, even if you secretly desired more than that from him.

“You know my methods? Go ahead then, I should like to see you apply them.”

You turned their body to sit cross-legged on the bed and watched as Haldir did the same.

“Think carefully – what’s different than usual that could have made you feel this way?”

Well, that was certainly a question you had asked many a time, and yet now that it was directed at you, you realised what a difficult question it was to answer. After a slightly drawn-out pause, you finally came upon your answer.

“I suppose… with my parents having sailed a few months ago and my brothers and sister now grown and visiting other lands… I have not had as much familial attention as I am used to.”

Internally, Haldir breathed a sigh of relief, for here was a problem he understood well, it was also something that wasn’t too serious. He had been dreading that you might somehow have heard the call of the sea, for if you had you would surely have decided to leave the shores of middle earth. Haldir did not think he could have borne it. It seemed, however, that you were not quite done with your explanation, and Haldir was more than willing to keep listening. Your cheeks had turned slightly pink, and Haldir was certainly curious as to why.

“My family… we are more physically affectionate than most… I must miss being held and touched, as I already missed them before today.”

At that, Haldir’s own face went rather red, for the solution to your problem was rather obvious and he had promised to help, still, it was a little taboo. Haldir swallowed, for it would surely wound his pride as march warden to back out now, but he could not help feeling rather nervous.

“Our solution is clear, then.”

Your eyes snapped up to look at him, wondering if Haldir was really offering himself as the elf for the job, or if he was simply stating that someone was needed.

“H-Haldir, I truly do not wish to impose… I do not wish to embarrass you.”

Haldir swallowed before speaking, though you did not notice this. Part of him felt guilt, for taking advantage of the situation in order to get close to you, but he would not, could not, back out now.

“You are my… friend, and we are alone. There is no imposition, and nothing to feel embarrassed about.”

He paused, holding his arms open slightly.

“Come here.”

You rather slowly and more than a little awkwardly manoeuvred closer to Haldir until you were close enough to him that Haldir could wrap his arms around you. You were stiff at first, but soon melted into the embrace with a soft sound. However, you soon felt better and as soon as you did, you felt that it would only be appropriate to end the embrace. Haldir had done so much for you. It would be wrong to take advantage of him.

“I’m feeling… much better now thank you.”

You said quietly, starting to lean back so as to move away from him. Suddenly Haldir’s arms tightened around you so that you could not get away, and he moved his head to hide it against your neck.

“Haldir, what are you doing?!”

“Do not ask me to let you go just yet, I cannot do it.”

His voice was a little muffled against your skin, but it was loud enough to hear clearly, so there was no possibility of mistake. You felt your pulse quicken and your throat dry as you rapidly tried to go through all the reasons he would say such a thing, and Eru help you, there weren’t many. Still, you could not jump to conclusions.

“M-my friend.” You began. “Do not let me mistake your intentions-”

Haldir looked up then, suddenly, his eyes looking straight into yours with pupils so blown it made his eyes seem black.

“Friends. Must we be friends?” He asked, earnestly, his fingers fisting at the back of your tunic where he held you. You merely gaped at him.

“For centuries I have buried my feelings but now that I have you in my arms I find I can do so no longer.” Haldir’s seeking gaze never left yours, and you could feel the heat of his hands through the thin fabric of your clothing.

“Tell me you do not feel the same and I will walk back out that door behind me.”

Haldir leant in and pressed his forehead against yours. You could feel his breath on your lips, and said absolutely nothing, for you were in such a state of shock that your feelings were returned that you were speechless.

“You say nothing!” He exclaimed, breathless and delighted, one hand leaving its place at the back of your tunic to tenderly – albeit shakily – caress the side of your neck. His voice dropped low, and finally his eyes left yours only to flick down to your lips.

“And yet now you must tell me that you do feel the same, or I can proceed no further.”

You finally snapped out of the dreamlike state you had been in since the first hint of Haldir’s true feelings. You flung your arms around his neck, fingers burying greedily into his thick golden hair, as you brought your lips to his so suddenly he jolted in surprise. Haldir righted himself almost instantly, kissing ardently back as he pushed you down onto the bed. When your back hit the mattress you gasped against his lips, and the march warden – ever ready to seize an advantageous opportunity – bit down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers moved in his hair and found his pointed ears, and you ran the pads of them fingers over the sensitive tips. Haldir’s hips jerked forward at the touch and he let out such a moan into the kiss that your legs seemed to wind around his trim waist all by themselves.

One of Haldir’s hands moved down your body to grasp your thigh. He squeezed firmly as he aligned your hips together, and you could not help but whimper against his lips at the hardness you felt there.

“Such pretty sounds you make.” Haldir’s voice was breathless and deeper than you had ever heard it before, and you writhed beneath him as he finally broke the kiss so that his lips could explore the sliver of exposed skin that your tunic afforded him.

“Have you truly yearned for me as I have for you?”

You were beyond words at that point, but could readily show him with your body, and so you rocked your hips up into his. Haldir’s grip on your thigh tightened deliciously and with a barely stifled groan he pressed his hips down to meet yours once, twice, and then suddenly his body went tense and he stopped all motion. You whined again beneath him, but this time from disappointment.

“Why did you stop?” You asked, panting so heavily the words were more puffs of breath than proper sounds.

He pulled his head up a little so he could look fondly down at his love, a sweet smile on his lips for all they were swollen from kissing. The sweet smile could not detract, however, from the near feral gleam in his eyes.

“I do not think your brothers, nor your sister indeed, would be pleased with me if I were to wed you here and now without any proper courting.”

Haldir leaned closer again, pressing his lips to your ear as he spoke softly.

“For if we had continued any further we certainly would have been married before the hour was up.” Forever Tags: @sweeticedtea @cd1242 @strongandfreedc @pixierox101 @jotink78 @luna-xial @underthemoon-imagines

#haldir #haldir x reader #march warden #lothlorien fic #lorien #lotr #lord of the rings #haldir fic #haldir x you

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obx-snippets · 4 years ago

Text

Honey & Glass ❀ Kiara Carrera

Summary: After a night of caring for baby sea turtles, y/n’s only light in her life is Kiara Carrera. But being a Thornton is a heavy crown to bear along with all the expectations.

Warning: cursing, (I think that’s it, let me know)

word count: 4.5k

Pairing: Kiara Carrera x female!reader

Masterlist

a/n: this is my first Kie one shot so hopfully you enjoy! This fic is based off the song Little Miss Perfect. Stayed up till like 4 am writing this so I’m fried now. But leave feedback of your thoughts.

*^credits to owner^* ❀❀❀ The verdant hills of the country club golf course weren't as occupied this Sunday morning like it was on other days. The Camerons were scattered about, Rafe and Sarah arguing over a hole in one while Wheezie continually hit her ball until she made it into a nearby lake. Despite the distraction going on around them, the Thornton siblings were locked into their game. Standing atop a hill, Y/n was still as she lined up her wedged golf club with the small golf ball lying on the patch of grass. Topper stood just behind his sister, arms crossed over his blue polo clad chest. A smirk was playing on his lips as he watched his sister's eyes straining on the task at hand. She took the game all too seriously, and it was enjoyable to pester her whenever he had the chance.

Y/n was always known to be the perfect child out of the two. Her ponytails were always slicked back without so much as a stray hair escaping. Straight A's, straight forward, straight path, she doesn't cut corners. She made a point be on time and was even head of the student council at the Kook Academy. Unlike her sensitive turd of a brother who washes himself with girls affection and alcohol whenever he saw Sarah under John B's arm, she's never blacked out at a party. Not once. But even if she attended a party, it wouldn't be her taste considering she only ever jams to Paul McCartney.

Just when y/n was about to make the shot, Scarlet and Sarah wandered by, the blonde's friend passing her a disdainful look. That was the other thing about Y/n Thornton. She wasn't a wealthy Kook by birth. She was adopted when she was only two years old. And though they spoiled her rotten, she can't help but question what she did to get as far as she's gotten.

The scornful look didn't go unnoticed by Topper, and he spared her a glare. Scarlet mirrored his expression before she followed Sarah toward the lake to help Wheezie retrieve her golf ball.

Y/n knew they only hated her because she wasn't a true Kook, and she was blessed with a privileged family. She knew she had done nothing wrong but being little miss perfect wasn't always luxurious. Not when she was hiding a secret that would surely dishonor the family name laid upon her.

Unwinding the tension that built up in her shoulder, Y/n hit the golf ball gently and let it roll into the hole. She squealed slightly and hopped on her white tennis shoes. Topper slowly clapped from behind her, jutting his bottom lips to emphasize he was impressed. The bright smile on her face was worth seeing any day in Topper's opinion.

"Eat grass bitch," Y/n jeered in a drolled tone, bumping Topper's shoulder with her own.

Topper scoffed at her, raising his hands as he walked to where she was standing just a few seconds ago, rolling his shoulder back to take his shot. "Watch how the real pro does it." he chucked with a smug grin, bringing his sister to roll her eyes.

Y/n stood next to Topper, resting her weight on the golf club while the other rested on her knee. "Has anyone ever told you that you have shitty form?" she whispered tauntingly in her brother's ear.

Topper swung back, making his sister take a cautious step away before hitting the ball across the field. "I do not!" he said, pointing his gloved hand toward the ball he made into the hole." If anyone has shitty form, it's you!" he jested, hovering his club mockingly in her face before she smacked it away.

"Whatever, Top, at least my ball never ended up in the lake." y/n sneered playfully over her shoulder as she trotted toward her ball with a skip in her step.

Topper lifted his hand and dropped his arms to his side, rolling his eyes as he followed her. "That was one time!"

The sibling played a few more rounds until Topper called it quits after y/n beat him the rest of the day, making two holes in ones. She had school the next morning anyway, and with the sky colored a deep purple, they thought it was time to turn in for the night.

With her hands swaying by her side, a yawn left y/n lips before she felt Topper bump her shoulder with his own. "So there's rumors going around at school that you've gotta crush on somebody." Topper's tone was hopeful, and the way he lifted his eyebrows suggestively brought her to scoff.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever." she shrugged, suddenly finding the velcro of her white loves quite fascinating.

"Come on! I'm your brother, you can tell me!"

Y/n laughed, letting her ponytail graze her cheek when she whipped her head up toward where Topper walked beside her. "Um, yeah, exactly, you're my brother, I don't really feel like you're the one I should go to for talking about my love life. It's kinda embarrassing."

Topper let his eyes linger on his sister for a moment before looking ahead of him where Rafe and Sarah drove by in their golf cart. The Cameron sibling tossed them a wave in greeting while the Thornton siblings nodded in response. Topper grin began to grow, and he spun on the sole of his foot to walk backward in front of his sister.

"Oh, I know, I know who it is," he said confidently.

Y/n snorted, amused to hear what Topper would pull out of his sleeve. No one would ever know who she had eyes for. She even tried to deny it herself—several times. "Do you now?" she nodded along with his game.

"Yup."

"Shoot then, wise guy."

"It's Rafe, isn't it?"

Y/n nearly choked on her saliva, and she passed her brother a bewildered look. "What- No! Absolutely not." she gasped, shoving him in the chest but to no avail as he stayed standing and laughed heartily at his sister's attempt to knock him down.

"What's wrong with Rafe?" he chuckled teasingly, prodding her on the rib, and opted to walk by her side again.

Once they arrived at his car, she kept her hand on the passenger side handle and glared at her brother through the windows as he stood on the other side. "Should I start alphabetically or chronologically?" she smiled caustically, and Topper mirrored her expression once he unlocked the car, and the two climbed inside.

She thought the discussion had dropped once they shut the doors, and the engine roared to life. But Topper pestered on with his investigation.

"Is it Kelce?"

"Nope." she sighed deeply, resting her head back, irritated he wouldn't drop it. She was saddened that he would never guess the name even if he listed off all the boys on the island.

He tapped his finger anxiously on the steering wheel. "Jeremy from your AP classes?"

"No, Topper."

"Whatever," he huffed in defeat, "I'll find out eventually! Don't you worry."

No, you won't, she thought, letting her eyes draw to the trees in passing. If Topper weren't so concentrated on the dark road ahead, he would have seen the frown that made permanent residence on his sister's face the rest of the ride home. He would have even caught a glimpse of the sole tear that rolled down her cheeks as she thought of the one person she could never have and the one person no one could know she wanted.

___

Adjusting her straightened hair in the mirror that was magnetized in the back of her locker, y/n's mind was reeling with all the duties she had ahead of her. She had a council meeting next period, and she hasn't even gotten her notes in order. Sarah Cameron was leaning against her locker that resided next to y/n, worry pooling in her eyes as she watched her run her hands through her hair for the hundredth time since they've been standing there.

"If you keep stressing your hair like that, it's gonna fall out." Sarah pointed out, leaning her head against the cold metal, and tucked a blonde strand behind her ear.

Y/n shook her head, rubbing her temple with the tip of her fingers. "Sarah, I've been up all. night." she emphases, slamming her locker shut with more force than she intended and turned to her friend, the creases on her forehead prominent. "All night, trying to accommodate everything, and even then, I doubt Trevor will be satisfied. Such a pain my ass, I swear.."

"Stop beating yourself over it, my god. Trever will just have to grow a pair and get over it. You're busy as it is, and he can't expect you to drown yourself in all this crap."

Taking a deep inhale of breath, y/n wrung her hands to rid of the nerves. "Okay, how do I look? Head of the student council worthy?" she padded down the uniform skirt that barely reached past her fings while Sarah tugged on the lapels of her navy blue blazer, her eyes scanning her golden brooch that was pinned to the side.

"You're a babe y/n. Of course, you look good! Also, I was thinking after school we could stop by Scarlet's..."

A pretty girl walks by my locker

my heart gives a flutter

but I don't dare utter a word

cause that would be absurd behavior

for little miss perfect.

Sarah's words are slowly drowned out once y/n's eyes catch sight of Kiara Carrera gracefully walking by. Everything slows, and she wasn't sure if it was time slowing down in her favor or if it was her mind, giving her the chance to catch a glimpse of the one true thing that kept y/n going. The one person who she thought about before shutting her eyes and the first thing she smiled about once she woke up.

The way her uniform hugged around her curves—the way her tie was loosened as it draped under the collar of her blouse. Kiara's long brown curls looked especially curlier that day as they bounced past her shoulder with every step. The half updo bun she wore accentuated her oval face perfectly, and it gave more space for y/n to admire her features.

Y/n and Kira have known each other since they both volunteered to watch over a turtle nest back in July. They were both surprised to see each other but nevertheless fell into a smooth rhythm of comfortable conversation. The whole night was spent naming all the baby sea turtles after star constellations that they thought fit their personality. They snuggled close for the majority of the night after Kiara ran to Haywards with a spare key to grab a few snacks to help them survive the night. The cool night air was becoming overwhelming, so they decided to keep up the chattering to distract themselves.

Y/n took this as two girls blossoming a newfound friendship, but it was when Kiara began to speak that really sparked her interest. But the funny thing was, it wasn't something specific. It was everything she was saying. Kiara spoke of her passion for music, her friends, the environment, her dreams, and hopes. She spoke so gracefully that it drew y/n in more and more like a siren thirsty for water. Before she fell in love with Kiara, she fell in love with her words. Her free spirit. Her aura of happiness that drew people in for more. More of the words that trickled from her plump lips light honey. Something so sweet that y/n craved more than anything.

While she was fawning over the girl as she spoke animatedly about her passion for surfing, a crack was heard from the turtle nest. Racing to look over the small hole with flashlights, radiant smiles colored both girls' features, seeing the sand cave in as little baby sea turtles began crawling from their shells.

For a brief moment, Kira gazed upward to see Y/n eyes glowing with the light and smiled. She loved how carefree she seemed away from the strict counsel of her stepmother. The Thornton name was a heavy crown to bear, and she admired y/n for carrying it so effortlessly. And at this moment, Kiara couldn't help but blush when strands of y/n's hair began to fall near her cheek, and she wanted so badly to brush them away. But she was knocked from her thoughts once she noticed the girl hustling around to clear the area for the turtles to move.

The rest of the night was spent encouraging the turtles as they made their way toward the water and protecting them from possible predators.

"Fuck off, crab!" Kiara shouted, picking up a branch from the sand and poking at a hard exterior near one of the turtles.

"Kie that a rock! Focus!' y/n whispered harshly, afraid she would scare the baby turtles as they paddled down the sand path they created for them that led to the water.

"Shit, you're right-- oh my god its Aries!" Kiara exclaimed, flashing her light down at a turtle that was speeding ahead of the rest.

Y/n quirked a brow, 'How could you possibly know? That could be Sagittarius for all we know."

Kie scoured her flashlight toward her, nearly blinding y/n from the abrupt light assault. "What? No way! That is so Aries, I mean, look at how he's showin off and struttin and being a baddie!" Kie then shined her light toward the hole where the last baby turtle flipped out from his nest and slowly moved toward the water. "That is Sagittarius. The lazy bitch."

"Hey, don't call the turtle bitches-- oh my god, Kiara, a crab!"

"Where!?"

After seeing the sea turtles to safety, Kira and y/n walked a mile to the Wreck, babbling loudly, not caring if the residents shut them up. They were just so happy to be in each other's company. The night ended with the girls eating a couple of plates stacked with truffle fries and a carton of ice cream while diving into more in-depth topics. They cried, laughed, and then cried some more before falling asleep on each other's shoulder in a booth. Mr. Carerra came in the next morning and sent them back to Kiara's house where they all but threw themselves on her bed in the comfort of her thick, warm blankets.

After that, the two would hang out every chance they got, even if there was an unspoken spark hovering between them like a magnet. It brought them closer, but as soon as they dared to think of each other as more than friends, they repelled.

Though they spoke of everything, they never mentioned how they fell asleep with their hands intertwined under the blankets.

Y/n breathed hitched once those almond eyes met hers, and the smile she passed her way was at par with the brightness of the sun. It warmed every part of her being, making her heart melt in an instant. Kiara's smile could light up a room; everyone knows that. But what they can't see is that she lights y/n up inside completely that every difficulty of loving her disappears. Every crevice of doubt. Every corner of insecurity. Ever crack of self-loathing. Kiara Carrera filled those spaces so selflessly, and all it took was a smile.

"Crush" was such an infantile word. But if that's what Topper wanted to call it, then yes, she had a crush on Kiara Carrera.

No, I can't risk falling off my throne,

Love is something you don't even know.

Two hands swaying in front of her face made her vision dizzy once she came back to reality and looked to Sarah, who looked relieved to finally grasp her attention.

"Dude bell rang. You ready?" she asked.

Y/n faked a smile before lifting her head a bit higher once Kira passed her and disappeared from sight. "Um yeah--yeah, I'm ready. Let's go."

Sarah looped her arm with hers, and the two girls moved down the hall. Sarah felt the stiffness in her friend's arm and tilted her head with furrowed brows. "You okay?" she inquired softly with a smile.

"Just lost in thought is all," y/n, sighed, sucking on her bottom lips as she cast her eyes to her shoes.

"Must be unfamiliar territory then." Sarah laughed, giving her a playful shove, bringing y/n to bashfully shake her head at the compliment. "Now chin up, let's show Trevor, who's boss."

Once again, she let her thoughts of Kiara settle in a little corner of her brain, not to be touched until necessary, and went about her day.

Straight hair, straight A's, straight forward

Straight girl

Little miss perfect

that's me

One night my friend's stayed over

We laughed and drink and ordered

Something about her drew me in

What? It's totally platonic

"That is such a lie, Sarah, and you know it!" Y/n muffled around a bite of potato chips. She had called out her blonde friend, who rests her back against her bed's headboard while in a heated game of Kiss, Marry, Kill.

"What is so wrong about the order? It seems fine!" Sarah hiccuped after taking a swig of the large bottle of wine Kiara brought from home. She was currently sitting next to y/n; they're shoulders pressing together as they evened their weight on each other.

"Seriously. Marry Pope, kiss John B, and kill JJ? Where's the favor in that!" Kiara questioned with a shake of her head.

"Hey, Pope is superior." Y/n reminded her as she pointed toward Kiara with the loose finger that wasn't gripping the neck of the wine bottle. She tossed her head back and let the sweet, pungent taste burn her throat.

"Well, of course, he is, that answer is fine but c'mon! Kiss JJ and Kill John B! Simple." Kiara said, letting her thumb wipe off a drip of wine that rested on y/n chin. Too dazzled with a fascination with the spinning fan above her, Sarah didn't notice the lingering glances happening between Kie and Y/n.

Their eyes stayed glued, and Kiara smirked as a blush crept up y/n cheek. She brought her thumb to her lips and tasted the wine that didn't make it into y/n mouth before turning back to Sarah.

"JB is my boyfriend, Kie!" Sarah whined, lightly kicking her legs in a pout with her eyes squeezed shut, the onset of a headache beginning to rack her brain.

"You and John B are a literal walking hallmark movie!" Y/n told her with irritation lacing her tone. "I think he'll understand that you picked JJ over him in a game!"

"But...but -but I - I love jombee," Sarah slurred moments before a silent sob broke her lungs.

Kiara and Y/n both groaned in unison, disregarding how emotional Sarah got after too much drinking. "Pass me the damn bottle," Kira demanded with a roll of her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," y/n replied.

That night was so exciting

Her smirks were so enticing

Hours speed by like seconds

Then, what happens is iconic

She takes a sip, I bite my lip

she tells a joke, I nearly choke

she braids my hair, I sit there

blacking out for the first time

With her straight hair now pulled back into a loose french braid made by the one and only Kiara, the two decided upon a game of never have I ever. After consoling Sarah for god knows what, the blonde fell asleep, leaving Kiara and y/n to sit at the end of the bed.

"Never have I ever called a turtle a bitch." Y/n narrowed her eyes, sitting on the balls of her feet, waiting for Kiara to drink from the wine bottle.

Kiara threw her head back, and a groan erupted from her chest while her loose, curly hair brushed past her shoulder. "Would you let that go? You know I love those turtles!" Kiara said, sipping the wine from the space in front of her as she sits criss-cross.

Her eyes flickered around the bottle, meeting y/n eyes for a moment, making her bite her lip and look down at her fiddling hands that rested in her lap.

"I don't think Sagittarius appreciated being insulted. He was just taking his time." y/n said, finally looking back up to see Kie handing her the bottle.

"At least I didn't forget their names! What kind of mother are you?" Kie chuckled, her fingers lining the edge of her oversized yellow t-shirt that covered her gray shorts.

Y/n's lips parted, and shrugged her shoulders aggressively. "We named them when they haven't even hatched yet! Can you blame me for getting confused?"

Kiara's face was reddened by the second as a sudden laugh surpassed her lips. "A mother always knows." she chuckled.

With her eyes fluttered shut, y/n took this time to admire her once again. She watched her selfishly like no one else should have the honor of seeing Kiara in such a lighthearted state where only the two of them could be alone. Nothing was really funny about what she had said, but if she could hear her adorable snort, she didn't mind. She had a laugh like shattering glass, something you want to get so close to, but y/n was sure she would get cut with the shards.

"Right because you are so mother oriented." y/n mumbled, watching as Kiara calmed down and steadied her breathing; she brushed some hair from her face and settled down until her eyes caught y/n's. She could see wind stirred waves in her eyes. If one were brave enough to enter their depths, all else would blur, and you'd fall so deep in love that you'd choose to stay there no matter what.

Y/n was not sure what took over her. It must have been the ambiance of silence, but she couldn't take her eyes off Kiara's wet lips that had just consumed the wine. Uncertainty flooded Kiara's eyes as Y/n hesitantly moved forward, then gently cupped her jaw in her hands and pressed her lips against her lips. Kiara stayed frozen in place, her hands raised around y/n silhouette that was slightly hovering over her like she was afraid to touch her. Because if she touched her, then it made it real. But she wasn't pushing her away, and she didn't know why.

The kiss was innocent, new, an unknown territory that y/n was afraid to tread until now. All the expectations placed upon her to be the model daughter disappeared with Kiara Carrera. The perfect girl her mother wanted was defying everything society said was wrong. But if it was so wrong, why did she feel Kiara's hands touch her waist and kiss her back? The taste of wine was exchanged between their sweet kiss and shared breath. So sweet and savory like honey, but once Y/n pulled away and opened her eyes, her heart shattered like glass. As if what she had just done destroyed her whole being. The glass cut deep like she touched something that she shouldn't have, and now she was paying for it.

Next thing I know, I lose control

I finally kiss her, but oh no

I see a face in my window

then my brain starts to go

She saw her reflection. She saw herself. The reflection of someone she didn't recognize, and she felt an ache in her heart once she met Kiara's eyes again. At that moment, they both seemed to realize what they had done and quickly moved away from one another, standing up to face each other on either side of the bed.

No, you can't risk falling off your throne

Love

Is something you don't even know

Thunder rumbled in the sky, the clouds grayed and shifted the cold air into a moist, dewy atmosphere. Rain droplets raced down y/n umbrella, creating a curtain of water around her body as she stood barefoot at the beach. Her mind was lulled with last night's events, and she hated herself for driving Kiara away. Y/n eyes observed each raindrop like a kaleidoscope. She wondered if she could stop time just one last time, to suspend this watery gift and peek through each one. Perhaps it would be fun to sit inside one of those raindrops and take the gravity propelled ride to the earth. Maybe then, she would be able to melt away into nothingness.

She let her hands stretch out from the safety of her blue umbrella and felt the cold rain soak over her hand. Her eyes gloss over with unshed tears, thinking of the night with Kiara on the beach. Oh, how she wishes she could do it over, just to have on a normal night like that again.

The shifting of sand beside her pulled her from her thoughts, and she stiffened once she caught a glimpse of Kiara's curly hair beside her, holding her own yellow umbrella.

The sound of gentle rain upon the surface shielding their head is all that filled the air. That's what kept y/n from crying once Kiara began to speak.

"We can still be friends y/n."

The words hit her like a ton of bricks, and she didn't care when a warm tear slid down her cheek.

"Okay," she mumbles in response, not believing herself to say anymore. She would surely break down, and she couldn't hurt Kiara like that. Not when she cornered her in a difficult situation.

She could hear Kiara sniffle, and she faced her quickly. "I'm sorry, Yn. You have no idea how sorry I am, but-- I just can't do it."

Y/n chin wobbled, and she quickly bit down on her lip before a whimper could escape. "It's okay," she murmured with a crack in her voice.

That crack nearly broke Kiara in her entirely, and she nearly reached out to touch her arm but stopped.

"Y/n/n, please say something else," Kiara was now crying, her almond eyes looking darker, and the frown on her lips broke y/n's whole being. "Just say something to make me stay. And I will, but I have to hear it from you first."

Y/n let in a shaky breath and finally found the courage to look at Kiara. She tilted her head, a sad smile presenting itself on her quivering lips. "What is it worth if I can't tell everyone else that I love you, Kiara?"

Both girls stood silent, and the decision was made. Hours passed, and a lonesome blue umbrella stayed put on the beach while the yellow one was long gone. Once she was sure Kiara was gone, Y/n dropped the umbrella from her shaking hands and let the sob she held rack her body. She clapped a hand over her mouth to quiet the scream she wanted to let erupt. Holding her body, she let the rain drown out her cries and felt the memory of Kiara's lips be consumed by the raindrops to melt away into the earth.

Rewind, induce amnesia

Deny the truth it easier

You're just confused, believe her

When she says there's nothing there

It's never worth it

When you're little miss perfect.

@pogueszn @mdlyncline @cordeliascrown @acvross-the-universe

@x-lulu @bricksatanakinswindow @ponyboys-sunsets @kaitieskidmore1 @casper17 @moonshinerbynight @illbesafeforyou @crxstalreeds

#outer banks #obx fanfiction #obx cast #obx x reader #obx #obx kiara #obx kie #outer banks fic #outerbanks x you #outer banks x reader #outer banks angst #angst.#kiara carrera #kiara outer banks #kiara x y/n #kiara x reader #sarah obx #sarah cameron #topper thornton

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snowdice · 4 years ago

Text

Little Kestrel (Part 7)[Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted, look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Logan placed a spoon in one of the boiling pots in front of him so he could get a better look at the liquid. It looked dark enough, but he leaned forward to taste it just to be sure. At the moment, it was basically just mint and lavender tea with a couple of extras. Satisfied with it, he slowly poured it into the slightly simmering larger pot in front of him and stirred it a few times clockwise. The pot glowed a soft purple when he took the spoon out.

He glanced into the other small pot and saw that the liquid there was starting to thicken. It wasn’t quite at the honey consistency he needed it to be yet, but it was on track.

Then, he glanced up at his guest. Virgil had clearly been watching him but looked away quickly when Logan turned to him. Logan studied him for a few more moments. He looked almost sickly in the light of day, like he’d shatter in a stiff wind. Yet, somehow, this was the assassin sent to kill a king? He was an enigma.

Logan turned his attention to the binding potion still simmering on the other table. Virgil cowered slightly as Logan walked by him to check on it. He certainly did startle easy. It was another piece to a concerning puzzle.

The binding potion was coming along well. He stirred it slowly a few times and carefully rinsed off the spoon, so it didn’t get anywhere he didn’t want it before laying it back down. He checked the open book next to it and compared the color to the chart in it. It would need at least an hour or so more before it could be used, but it would be a much better solution to the one that basically glued Virgil’s hands to a chair.

He walked back over to the other potion’s station to start cleaning up his supplies.

He had some herbs that he hadn’t used and stuck a mint leaf in his mouth as he returned them to their correct containers. There was a small wedge of honeycomb left on the plate that he’d cut it on. Without even really thinking about it, he cut the honeycomb into to equal parts with the plan to offer half of it to the other presence in the room. He paused and looked up at said other presence who looked down at his lap quickly.

“Would you like half?” he asked. Virgil looked back up at him, hesitance in his eyes. “You can pick which half each of us eats,” Logan offered.

Virgil nodded slowly and Logan rounded the table with the plate. “Left or right?” Logan asked.

“…Left.”

Logan nodded and went ahead and stuck the right piece in his own mouth before offering the left piece. Virgil parted his lips and Logan popped it into his mouth. Logan almost laughed at the expression that crossed his face as he started to chew. He imagined this is what people were talking about when they mentioned feeding babies different foods for the first time. His eyes went wide, and he blinked a couple of times before chewing a bit faster. Logan smiled at him and took the plate back around to the other side of the table.

The liquid in the second pot had gotten thicker now, and he stirred it carefully a few times before deciding it was finished. He then turned off the heat and quickly scrapped the sticky substance into the main pot. The purple liquid that had been in the pot slowly turned golden as he counted the number of times he stirred clockwise and then began to sparkle as he stirred it a few times counterclockwise. Once he was finished, he turned off the heat under the pot and wandered over to the case that held empty jars.

He grabbed one of the liter ones, and while he waited for the potion to cool, he measured and marked the container with 30 careful lines. The consumer did not need to take an exact amount every day which is why he didn’t bother with separate containers, but for maximum benefit it should generally be about 40ml for the first 10 days and 30ml after that. The lines should help them keep track.

He walked back over to the potion once that was done and placed a funnel into the opening so he could pour it into the marked container. The liquid filled the container a bit higher than 40ml above the top line but having a bit extra the first day wouldn’t harm him.

He looked to Virgil who was watching him with suddenly very wary eyes. He rounded the potion’s station and approached him slowly, hoping not to startle him when he already seemed rather skittish. “Okay, Virgil,” he said. “I’m going to need you to drink this. It’s a…”

“No.”

“W-what?”

“No,” his eyes were locked on the container in Logan’s hand and he shook his head back and forth. “Please no.”

“I assure you, it isn’t poison,” Logan said. “I will even test it myself.” Yet, he was acting differently than he had with the food. He’d begun to shake and cry as he continued to shake his head.

Oh dear. Logan grimaced and set down the potion. He glanced at the door very much hoping that Patton would come through it in the next few seconds, but he did not. “What is…” Logan said. “What is wrong?”

“Please don’t,” he said. “Please. Can’t. No.”

Logan wrung his hands and then went to his knees in front of the hyperventilating boy. He tried to place a comforting hand on his knee, but he flinched violently, and Logan removed his hand quickly. He dithered, unsure what to do as the boy continued to heave with sobs.

“I am not adept with discerning feelings. Please communicate with me verbally.”

He did not seem inclined to capitulate, making pitiful upset sounds that Logan could not determine the meanings of.

“Please, no, hurts,” he said.

“You think it will hurt you?” Logan asked with a frown. “It won’t hurt you Virgil. The purpose of that potion is quite the opposite.”

He either did not hear Logan or did not register what he said. “Please,” he begged. “I’ll be good. I won’t even move. Please.”

Won’t move? Logan glanced over at the other potion still simmering at its station. “Do you think this is a binding potion?” he asked. “Why on Earth would I be offering you a binding potion to drink?” Yet, Logan watched as he shook and cried, eyes not quite focused on Logan but on something else that wasn’t there. “Did,” Logan with dawning horror. “Did someone feed you a binding potion?”

Logan had once accidently gotten some of a binding potion he was making on his hand. It had stung like a thousand small bees had attacked one area of his skin, and it was only made worse by the fact that even that small amount had kept him trapped in place for hours. Binding potions were sticky. They were difficult to remove. Even after the counter potion had been applied, he’d still felt a bit of an ache when he moved it for the next week or so. It’s why one was never supposed to apply it directly to a person’s skin.

Who would make someone drink that? Beyond the assured agony and full body paralysis, it could easily kill someone. If not cooked properly, it was literally poison and even if it was perfect, there was still the possibility that it would freeze a person’s lungs, heart, or any other number of internal organs. If someone had fed Virgil a binding potion (and while he was no expert on facial expressions, the one currently on his face made Logan sure that someone had) they had little regard for his life.

Logan tired his best to soften his expression and tone. “Hey Virgil,” he said. “It’s okay. I won’t force you to drink anything. It’s not a binding potion, but I won’t make you drink it anyway.” It took him a bit to calm down as Logan continued to give him soft assurances, but finally his breaths started to even out. “Are you alright?” Logan asked.

Virgil nodded after a moment.

“Good.” He waited for a few minutes for Virgil to calm down even more before he said anything else. “I will not make you drink any potions,” Logan promised. “Though, if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to explain the option of drinking the one I prepared.”

He gave Logan a suspicious blink, but he didn’t seem inclined to have another fit at the sentiment.

“It is not a binding potion,” Logan started with. “I am making one for you, but I have no intention of having you consume it. What I was offering to you is medicinal. Both Patton and I noted that you seem unhealthy and likely malnourished. While nothing can reverse the effects of malnutrition completely, the potion I made would help prevent many future problems as well as let your body acclimate to a more nutritious diet easier.”

Virgil squinted at him. “Why?” he asked. “I’m your prisoner. Why would you want to help me?”

“You are my prisoner which means you are under my care,” Logan said. “I will not abide by your suffering if I can prevent it. That being said, if drinking the potion causes you undue mental distress, I will not force it upon you.”

Virgil studied him, eyes hard and suspicious, but his words were tentative when they came. “Does it hurt bad?” he asked.

“It doesn’t hurt at all,” Logan promised. “Allow me to demonstrate for you?” He nodded and Logan stood to retrieve the potion.

Logan placed his thumb over the lid of the container and tilted it until he felt the liquid hit his skin. He pulled his hand away and showed Virgil the notable drops of liquid on his thumb before opening his mouth and clearly placing it on his tongue. “It mostly tastes like the honey I put in it,” he told him, “plus a bit of lavender and mint. It does have a slightly sour aftertaste, but overall, it’s fine. How about just a small amount to start and then you can decide if you want to drink the rest of the dose for the day?”

“Okay,” Virgil agreed.

“I’m going to put this bottle to your lips. You can take as little as you wish.” Virgil nodded and Logan leaned forward and pressed the container to his mouth. Virgil kept his lips firmly closed as Logan titled it up briefly before taking it away. Virgil’s tongue came out to swipe up a bit of the liquid on his lips. He seemed to brace himself as he waited for something to happen, but he calmed after a few moments.

“Oh,” he said. “That’s not bad.”

“It is not intended to be,” Logan said. “Would you be willing to drink a bit more?”

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #character thomas sanders #adriana writes #little kestrel #birds of different feathers #implied/referenced child abuse #assassination attempt #past torture #captivity

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belpheroo · 4 years ago

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Title: Fear & Loving in Devildom, Part 2 Pairing: Belphegor x female!MC Rating: M for discussions of mature themes Summary: Belphie is guilt-ridden, but also horny. Funny how often those two things coincide when you catch feels for the girl you killed. Notes: Yet another follow up to my Belphegor fics- A “maybe”, On the Way to a “Yes” and Fear & Loving in Devildom, Part 1

Belphegor had slept through the lunch break, arms folded over his desk as he breathed in deeply and even. He’d been sleeping very well lately. He always slept well, but there was something particular satisfying of late. In fact, his entire mood had been improved, even Beel remarking on how he was spending less time tormenting Levi and “stirring up shit” between Lucifer and Satan.

Half awake, he turned his cheek into his arm and heft a contented sigh before letting his mind go soft and blank.

A heavy weight abruptly draped over him, a chin digging into his back.

“Hey. You think you could knock me up? Being different species I was thinkin’ no, but then I realized I don’t actually know.”

God help him.

Belphegor didn’t respond, trying to fake being asleep now as his moment of peace slowly drifted away. Her weight disappeared and he watched her through half closed lids as she puffed out her stomach and rubbed a hand over it.

“We can name it Damien!”

“Please don’t insinuate our love child would be the anti-christ.” He said, voice muffled.

She laughed, puffing out the breath she was holding. She crouched down by his desk, forcing him to make room as she rested her own arms over the surface and meeting his eyes.

“Have I worn you out?” She asked smugly.

“No, but it would appear you are ‘reforming’ me.”

“I heard. Beel was saying you’ve been in a spectacularly good mood. Can’t imagine who is responsible for that miracle.”

She winked. Belphegor said nothing and opted to just watch her smile and be frustratingly beautiful.

“So whatcha think? Should we like, do the tried and true pull-out method from here on or invest in some condoms?”

“No complaints to pull out. I would like to see you on your knees like this, your face covered in my—“

At that moment, the door opened as a rabble of RAD students came pouring in. Lucifer among them. The eldest eyes had immediately settled on them upon his entering.

“— affection.” Belphegor finished.

She practically beamed as she snickered. He hid his face in his arms to avoid having to greet Lucifer as he made his way over to them. She stood up straight, fluffing out her skirt as she grinned up at him.

“Are you feeling well now? I was informed you took a sick day this week.” Lucifer said, his deep voice smooth and soft with genuine concern. Belphegor fisted his own sleeve beneath his hand.

“Oh— yeah. I’m fine now. Just had a bit of a cold. Probably not even a cold! Probably allergies.”

More like she’d been so sore from the perfectly thorough fucking he had given her, she could barely move her legs. Belphegor’s smile was hidden from sight.

“You should wear a face mask when you’re outside.” Lucifer said, half reprimanding.

“I will! No worries, I will take care of myself.”

Belphegor hated how sweetly she spoke to Lucifer, bouncy and light. It was the same way she talked to everyone but still, he hated it. Despite that, he would never try and crush that spark in her. She was a social butterfly and that charm was part of why he loved her. She had a light in her that drew in everyone like moths to the flame… he could hardly blame them for wanting to bask in this little sun here in Devildom.

Lucifer must have nodded, because their conversation stopped and he heard his footsteps fading away. She crouched down again, voice a whisper.

“What were you saying there? Something about covering me in your affections?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She smiled, wicked and amused before finally the teacher arrived and she had to go back to her own seat.

—

Belphegor didn’t care much to keep their growing relationship a secret from his brothers, but deferred to her wishes. She wanted to keep the “peace” for now, until she had time to properly show they were a couple. Belphegor was certain Beel had suspicions, if not just downright knew about them. Others who had likely tuned in were Asmo and Satan, one simply because of his intelligence and observation skills, the other because he probably could sense the change in the air by pheromones or some wacky Lust based shit.

No one had displayed too much objection to their spending time together except for Mammon, but that was to be expected. Mammon loved her. He loved her the way Belphegor loved Lilith. Devoted, but familial. This fact had kept Belphegor from glaring too many daggers Mammon’s way when she went off to hang out with him and play model at Majolish… or the fact that every other Devilgram selfie she posted seemed to include Mammon.

Jealousy still coldly laced its way through Belphegor’s blood sometimes, but despite himself, he knew she loved Mammon too. He was her first man, her best friend. There were things he could never replaced that Mammon gave her… but he reminded himself, there were things he gave her that Mammon definitely did not. The sound of her voice and the touch of her body, welcome and inhibited was all Belphegor’s. It was childish perhaps, to think of all the things Belphegor had wrung from those lips, all the things he had sparked in her heart that Mammon did not… but it calmed the beast in his chest.

After class, he had expected to find her waiting, but instead found the person he least wanted to speak to.

Lucifer gestured to him, waving his index and middle finger to beckon. Belphegor’s eyes narrowed, but he crossed the hallway at his leisure and came to stand nearby.

“What do you want?”

Lucifer normally would have prickled up at the disrespect, but Belphegor was surprised to find there was not even a trace of indignation in his older brother’s expression.

“I need to speak with you. Come with me.”

Any of the other brother’s would have felt anxiety at this no doubt, except maybe for Satan. Belphegor merely frowned.

“Do you remember what happened the last time you asked me somewhere to talk?”

Lucifer sighed, “Would you like to bring Beel with you?”

That… was not what he expected. A reprimand, a threat or a repetition of his demand? All possibilities. This? Not so much.

“I don’t need a sitter.”

“Then come along.”

Belphegor knew better than to try and force out a “please”.

—

It didn’t take long for Belphegor to recognize where they were going. Diavolo’s office. Thankfully, the room was devoid of Diavolo or his little servant, Barbatos.

“Why here?”

“Privacy.” Lucifer answered, leaning against the edge of Diavolo’s desk. It seemed even he wouldn’t presume to sit in Diavolo’s chair.

Belphegor noted Lucifer gesture for him to sit in one of the plush chairs before the desk, but Belphegor, despite himself, elected to stand.

“This is all wonderfully morbid, but if you could get to the point…”

“I have tolerated your cheek until present because… of the situation. But I would ask that you mind your tongue for the remainder and let me speak. I have questions. I ask you answer them simply and truthfully.”

Belphegor said nothing, fixing Lucifer with a piercing stare. When the silence had stretched out enough to Lucifer’s liking, he spoke again.

“What do you plan to do when she leaves Devildom and returns home?”

“Who-“

“Simply and truthfully.”

Lucifer’s voice was tinged with barely veiled anger. If Belphegor kept pushing him, he’d pop… and on a normal day, that would be a good time in his eyes, but for now Belphegor crossed his arms.

“I will visit her.”

“Frequently?”

“As frequently as possible.”

Lucifer nodded, “And where do you intend to find the energy reserves to propel the glyphs for such frequent trips? You’ll expend your own fast enough.”

“… the others will want to visit her too. We can share the burden.”

“Is that what you want? Visiting her with everyone?”

Belphegor frowned deeper. Sharing the burden would also mean sharing her and her time.

“I’ll make it work.”

“I suppose there is no point in asking if you have already been… intimate with her?”

“Not that it is any of your business, but yeah, Lucifer. I have. I made a pact with her.”

“And now you’re sleeping with her.” Lucifer said, less a question and more a simple disapproving statement.

“We fuck on occasion too.”

“How crass.” Lucifer said, distaste evident in how he wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brow, “So she is simply a means to sate your desires? An object of pleasure?”

“… why are you asking these questions? What is your game?”

“I am protecting her.”

Belphegor laughed, curt and mirthless.

Lucifer continued on unfazed, “You have made a selfish and fatal error. What do you think will come of this? You will break her heart and I will not allow it.”

“I have no intention of hurting her you presumptuous—“

“Your intentions are worthless. She will return to the human realm at the end of the term and there is nothing you or I or anyone can do to stop it! And this entanglement will only serve to prolong her suffering when that day comes! Have you thought nothing about this? What it would mean?”

Belphegor felt his throat seize around his words, keeping them strangled in his throat as he stared at Lucifer, eyes narrowed with growing rage… not all of it for Lucifer.

“… you’re a demon, Belphie.”

He hated hearing that nickname come from Lucifer’s lips, especially when he said it so gently.

“She’s a human. She belongs up there, not here with us.”

“Why did you even bring her in the first place?” Belphegor spoke, his voice raspy and low as he struggled to get out the words, “Why allow Diavolo to do it? I told you… it was a bad idea.”

“Do not pretend you were trying to prevent this. Not when we both know it was hatred that spurred your displeasure at that time… and now? You’re the very reason it has this… complication.”

Belphegor swallowed, tasting acid and feeling something still starting right at the height of his throat, spreading prickles over the roof of his mouth. He… he hadn’t thought about her leaving. He truly hadn’t. It had always felt like something he would have time for later, even as he lamented his “lack of time”. A part of him just… just assumed she would stay.

“What do you want from me? You want me to… what? Break her heart now? Lie to her? Tell her I don’t love her?”

Lucifer stiffened at the word, trying to keep his eyes from giving away his surprise as he met Belphegor’s own. Belphegor was certain he was a pitiful visage and Lucifer seeing it only added an edge to it that made him seem even more a pouting child.

“You love her?”

Belphegor bristled, anger making him quick to speak how he truly felt without a thought, “With every breath I breathe.”

It was Lucifer’s turn to look stunned. The rush died down as quickly as it sprung up, leaving Belphegor slow to speak once again.

“I... tried to keep my distance, but she wore me down… I… I didn’t intend…”

Too much. Belphegor closed that gate up as soon as he opened it, turning his face away from Lucifer’s scrutiny. He wished he could go back to those days, when he was young and full of light and trust and his older brother was someone he could talk to… someone he could confide in.

He’d forgotten himself, but it was only a momentary lapse. Lucifer must have sensed this, because his own demeanor relaxed and his arms fell from where they were crossed over his chest to his sides.

“This… is not a situation I think anyone was prepared for.” Lucifer said at length and Belphegor took it for the olive branch, masked as a non-answer, it was intended to be.

“I would have been remise in my duties as your brother if I did not speak up.”

Belphegor winced, “You picked a hell of a time to start giving a shit about that.”

“I have always ‘given a shit’, Belphegor.”

Ah, he was “Belphegor” again. “Always. You spent so much time with your head up your ass you just can’t see it.”

There was something… fond? In the way Lucifer said that? He even chuckled faintly.

“You’d know all about that.”

Lucifer snorted, “About being a rebellious child? Yes. In fact I do. Mankind wrote a lovely book about it, I suggest giving it a read.”

Belphegor laughed, surprising himself. When did Lucifer get a sense of humor? It did some to ease the tension, but still Belphegor was fairly certain he’d like to be anywhere but here.

“…I suppose I would just ask you be thoughtful to the situation. Understand that this relationship, should you both continue to pursue it, will have obstacles. Many obstacles. I say this to prepare you. And I suggest, if you have not already, you speak of it with her. It is all well and good to enjoy your time together, but at some point… be sure she understands what it means too. And if she is willing to traverse those obstacles with you.”

Lucifer averted his eyes in his usual fashion, looking up and away rather than down. Never down.

“It’s not just her getting hurt I worry about.”

“Ugh, gross.” Belphegor said, rolling his eyes for effect. Lucifer did not look remotely amused.

“I have said what I wanted to say. Though one last bit of advise…don’t be within arm reach when Mammon finds out.”

He flashed a wicked smile. Belphegor scoffed at it before he quickly left the room.

—

Belphegor’s D.D.D. had vibrated a couple times in the office and now looking through it he saw her usual messages, oversaturated with emoji.