#1800’s au but like... my way
Note
Hi! I love your recs so much! Thank you for all the work you put into them! I hope it is okay to request my own? I would love to see a list of your favorite humorous explicit fics starring our ineffable idiots. I prefer non AUs, but if you have an absolute masterpiece, I'll take it no matter what!
Only if you want to, of course! Thank you, again!!
hey, that's so sweet, thank you so much!! 💜
of course, here are some of my favourite non AU humorous explicit good omens fics:
[you can request more fic recs here.]
i made an excuse (you found another way) by orphan_account (1k)
“Angel, the restaurant’s right there.” It was. Crowley gestured to it with a definitive arm wave. The Ritz was at the corner of Piccadilly and Arlington, and they could see the hotel facade as they stepped out of the park. “We can walk there.”
“Let’s drive.”
Booty Call by emmagrant01 (2k)
“It’s called a ‘butt dial,’ Angel. A ‘booty call’ is something else.”
The Angel Line by FancyTrinkets (2k)
The one in which Aziraphale purchases and listens to a pornographic audiobook that just so happens to be narrated by Crowley.
Aziraphale cringed and covered his face. This was going to be awful, and also thrilling, and he wasn't sure what he ought to be feeling about it, but there was a definite sense of vicarious shame.
Just a Taste by summerofspock (3k)
See, it wasn’t so much the eating. It was the noises. It was the indecent look on Aziraphale’s face. It was the way he licked his fingers and wiggled in his seat.
Every little action felt specially created to undo Crowley.
And Aziraphale had no idea.
The Rake by CopperBeech (3k)
During the long estrangement of the 1800's, Aziraphale practiced a secret hobby – and it wasn’t the gavotte.
Crowley finds out in an unexpected way.
For a Good Time, Call by seashadows (3k)
Three rings. Four. Seven, and then “Hello?”
“Hello, sssssweetheart,” Crowley said. “How would you like my long, slithery tongue up your tight little –“
Then it hit him: he knew that voice.
Dear. Fucking. Satan.
(Sometime in the depths of the 1990s, Hell tasks Crowley with spreading lust. As usual, he makes as little effort as he can, but gets a heaven of a lot more than he bargained for.)
The One in Which Crowley Discovers Wanking by for_autumn_i_am (5k)
It began, like most memorable events in Crowley’s life did, with a bad decision; like most bad decisions, it involved poor impulse control and copious amounts of alcohol. The Antichrist had been born, and he put on lipstick and kitten heels to deal with it, but knew that the clock was ticking, and at times when time was slipping away, it helped to hold onto a bottle of gin.
Fine Dining by iamshame (13k)
"There was something else I was going to ask you," Aziraphale continued, unabashed. "Ah… How to put it?" He tapped his hand on his thigh for a moment, and then apparently found inspiration. "Ah! When you're…" Crowley made the mistake of making eye contact with him, and Aziraphale gave him another outrageous wink. "Dining out… What cutlery do you prefer to use?"
"I'm sorry?" Crowley said pleasantly, trying his best not to cause anything in the dining room to catch aflame in his frustration.
Aziraphale gave him a reproachful stare, as if Crowley were being very stupid. "When you're eating, Crowley. Do you favour the… The knife?" Aziraphale actually glanced conspicuously at his own crotch, and Crowley considered leaving the dining room via the nearest window. "Or the spoon?" Another raised eyebrow. "Or even, let's say, a fork?"
"What the fuck is the fork in this situation?" Crowley hissed through gritted teeth.
Aziraphale mentions that he'd like to have sex with Crowley. Crowley is completely taken-aback, and very conflicted, and very interested. Aziraphale is also trying to kill him by using elaborate food metaphors to explain the whole subject, which is not helping in the slightest.
Trial & error by fellshish (15k)
The Metatron brings in the demon Crowley to stand trial in Heaven. For tempting an angel. Uhhhh. Awkward.
Feast by Ashfae, mostlyjustgoose (15k)
Crowley's spent the whole of lockdown asleep. Aziraphale has spent the whole of lockdown baking, cooking, and becoming increasingly frustrated with his solitude. Which eventually leads him to the perfect way to solve all his problems at once…
Or, Aziraphale attempts to seduce Crowley with a truly excellent meal, and Crowley is amenable.
One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) by Atalan (17k)
"All right, I know I'm going to regret asking this," Aziraphale says. "What exactly does this wager entail?"
Crowley grins like the cat that not only got the cream but has absconded with the entire cow. He grabs the bottle and swigs straight from it despite Aziraphale's tut of disapproval.
"The pot goes to whichever demon can get an angel into bed by the end of the evening."
AKA The Fic That Tumblr Made Me Write. Heaven and Hell share a corporate party once per millennium. This time someone's had the bright idea of issuing a challenge to the demons of Hell. Crowley has no intention of missing the opportunity; Aziraphale's just enough of a bastard to make him work for it.
Ideal Partner by summerofspock (17k)
“Would you like to explain why you’re watching pornography? In your bookshop? During business hours?”
Aziraphale flaps his hand, typically dismissive of any criticisms of his abysmal business practices. “Did you know I’ve been on this earth for nearly 6 millennia and have never engaged in intercourse before?”
Crowley grinds his teeth and feels his cheeks heat. What is he supposed to say to that?
Anything for Science by Magnolia822 (20k)
Aziraphale decides he wants to make an Effort, so he watches a lot of porn for science. And when he asks for help with more hands-on experimentation, Crowley is only more than happy to oblige.
The Loophole, or, How to Convince a Demon God Exists in Three Easy Steps by fellshish (24k)
Ah, yes. Being an Archangel is going splendidly. Aziraphale accidentally erases God from the Book of Life.
32 Questions That Lead To Love by ffonippop (32k)
”First formulated in 1997, [32] questions to fall in love is a study by psychologist Dr. Arthur Aron which took place at Stony Brook University, New York. The aim? Speeding up the creation of intimacy between two strangers.”
The Cosmopolitan
Okay, fine.
Crowley was 32-Questions-That-Lead-To-Love-ing Aziraphale. Sue him.
He had no expectations, all right? Just, an innocent curiosity.
The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It by indieninja92 (79k)
After the Apocalypse, Aziraphale ventures into a new space in the gay milieu - Grindr. There he starts talking to a charming young man who certainly doesn't bear any resemblance at all to a certain long streak of demon, not one bit, no thank you.
Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley navigate their friendship after the world failed to end. There is much drinking and silliness, but could it be that there are other feelings lurking underneath?? Of course there are, this is fanfic.
[you can find more fic rec masterposts here]
#seriously fic rec requests are always welcome!!#good omens#good omens fic rec#good omens fanfiction#aziracrow#ineffable husbands#aziracrow fanfic#crowley x aziraphale#foolish recs#go fic masterpost
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Prequel/sequel to the Modern AU post I made yesterday:
Bail, any given morning: Here I go again, going to work...with the ugly horrible stairs
Breha: Dear, can you give constructive criticism of the stairs for once? I thought you went to art school
Bail: Yes, when I was 12. I don't remember much of what they taught me there, but of one thing I am certain: those stairs are not art
Breha: Alright. Whatever you say, honey. But I am banning you from talking about the stairs until you can give me something new
Six hours later
Bail, on the phone: Love, I have found another point of view on the stairs. We have a dinner date at eight. Wear something nice
Breha: .....I didn't know we needed to take the stairs for a date
Bail: No, we're taking the man who is trying to make the stairs less horrible for a date. I promise you, it's going to be so nice!
At eight that night
Breha, looking at the very beautiful man her husband has brought into the restaurant with them: So, you're trying to make the stairs look better?
Fox, forgetting all of his social anxieties in an instant: Yes. Now I am legally being prevented from actually making them proper stairs, because they represent the "alternative progressive movement of the 1930's that worked as a precursor to Modern and Expressionist movements of the field while still encapsulating the trends of the late 1800s", which is, in my honest opinion, just a nice way of saying that the stairs look like a spiraling fire exit with some rather dated embellishments that are just empty copies of earlier styles with no deeper understanding of what actually made any of it work, and merely mimic previous artworks without any coherency, with the sole goal of looking extravagant
Breha, kicking Bail under the table because he looks too smug: Do you want wine and dessert as well?
That night, in bed
Bail: By the way, he also threw a man while holding a clipboard
Breha: I'm booking us a visit to the jeweler tomorrow. We cannot not marry him
#Breha: finally! a man who complains with examples!#Bail does not mind that because he also loves a man who complains with examples#sw#tcw#commander fox#bail organa#breha organa#bail/breha/fox#Modern AU
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send nudes
Raphael x Fem!Tav (modern AU)
Summary: Raphael is bad at sexting
A/N: This was based on a conversation i had between @flamemittens @sky-kiss and @sassyandsodone
Tav had finally manage to get the phone number of the man she had had a crush on for some time, Raphael. And although he was charming in real life, he text messaged as if he were in the 1800’s.
Raphael: Tav.
Come to my house at the eighth hour of the night. Let us enjoy a good merlot.
Raphael.
Tav: You do know you don’t have to sign your messages, right? I know it’s you.
Raphael: Tav.
Are you coming or not. Answer immediately.
Raphael.
Tav: 🤦♀️I’ll be there in a sec.
In the following months, he had gotten slightly better at not sounding like someone’s grandpa, but there was still room for progress. One time, while she was at work, Tav nearly choked on her coffee when receiving the following message.
Raphael: Little mouse, bestow upon me that delicious mortal form of yours in pictorial format.
Tav spent a good five minutes looking at their screen. Was Raphael asking for nudes? Then, another message appeared.
Raphael: Perhaps if you were to grace me with your naked form, I would deign to reward you with a similar favour, pet.
Somehow, the follow up was even more confusing. She decided to consult with their friends.
Tav: Guys, help me. Raphael sent me some messages that I can’t understand
Lae’zel: I always knew you were stupid, but not understanding messages is a new one
Wyll: You are still talking with that guy?
Astarion: Don’t judge her, dear Wyll. You have had your history with…questionable partners.
Wyll: 🙄you’re one to talk
Tav: Anyways, he sent me some messages but I’m having a hard time understanding them. Can you guys decipher it?
Gale: Sure thing, Tav! Send them in and we’ll see what we can do.
*Tav sent a photo*
Astarion: …
Wyll: …
Gale: …
Karlach: Is he… is he asking for nudes???
…
Meanwhile, Raphael’s phone was suddenly taken from his hands.
“By the hells, what is wrong with you, Raphael?” Haarlep asked exasperated. “Just say send nudes and be done with it.”
“I cannot be direct about this sort of thing, or else, where is the fun?” He tried to reason.
Haarlep put a hand on their face and sighed. “You’ll never see tits if you keep talking like this.” They showed the screen to Raphael. “Look! The poor thing hasn’t answered in 10 minutes. I don’t think she even understood what you sent.”
“Tav is perfectly capable of understanding my way of talking.” Haarlep typed something and then hit send.
“Done. Let’s see if this works.”
…
While Tav’s groupchat was becoming a mess over the screenshot she sent of Raphael’s conversation with her, she received another message from him. ‘Speaking of the devil’ she thought.
Raphael: Send tits for cock.
Tav immediatly forwarded that to the groupchat.
Tav: Karlach was right. It was nudes.
Karlach: KNEW IT!
Shadowheart: Why is he suddenly so direct?
Gale: You’re not going to send him nudes, are you? You’re literally at work right now!
Tav: That’s none of your business, Gale. And idk, Shart. Anyways, gotta go now, byee
Tav made a quick run to the bathroom and sent a picture she already had on her phone. It was a bit old but it would do the job.
*Tav sent a picture*
Tav: I can’t send one from right now, but I’ll hope you’ll be satisfied with this
Raphael: My, my, I am quite satisfied. You have a plentiful bosom, little mouse. Very well, here is your reward.
*Raphael sent a picture*
Tav felt the blood rushing to her face when looking at his messages. She’d only hope she would get home soon.
Raphael: As much as I would enjoy to continue this lovely conversation, I am afraid I have to leave.
Tav: We can continue this once I get home.
Raphael: Of course. As you know, roses are red, violets are blue. I'm into poetry, but I'd rather be in you.
Tav barked out a laugh from inside the bathroom.
Tav: Oh sweetie, we’re gonna have to work on your sexting once I get there. Till’ later, bye.
Raphael showed his phone to Haarlep. “What is ‘sexting?’”
Haarlep threw themselves on a nearby bed, dramatically putting an arm to cover their face. “You are impossible.”
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CHAPTER 1: She knows how to get the best out of me
Warnings: s3lf harm themes, teacher x student relationship, heavy emotions.
One of the girls (AU)
Men and minors dni!!!
It’s a day when y/n felt trapped in a pit of boredom. The heat was suffocating, and every minute felt like an eternity. She waited for the class to get over, her gaze drifting aimlessly around the room as she counted down the seconds until the end of class. 1800 seconds, 30 minutes
the monotony bored her out of her mind, thoughts of her teacher, Ms. Romanoff, kept coming up through Y/n’s gloomy mind. She couldn't help but imagine the most lustful thoughts about the teacher. Her hands, her deep raspy voice. The way Ms. Romanoff commanded the room with her confidence and grace. It was a brief respite from the dullness of the lesson, a small spark of excitement in an otherwise dreary day. But it still didn't change how y/n was feeling. The teacher was going on about some assignment but y/n couldn't care less and only wanted to feel her. But she would never let anyone in on her darkest fantasies
But then, like a bucket of cold water, Ms. Romanoff's sharp voice cut through the silence. y/n snapped back to reality, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized she hadn't been paying attention. She tried to focus on the lesson, but the words seemed to blur together, her mind drifting back to the thoughts of Ms. Romanoff. She sees the professor walk towards her not aware of what's going to happen. Oh fuck
“Ms……?”
“y/n,” you say
“Miss y/n I expect you to be more attentive, or if you prefer to sleep over my lesson then kindly leave
“I'm sorry ms Romanoff, I just felt a little-”
“I do not want to hear your excuses”
She cuts you off walks to her desk again and continues teaching
What an asshole
As the minutes ticked by, Y/n grew more restless. She couldn't wait to escape the confines of the classroom and breathe in the fresh air outside. But when the bell finally rang, signaling the end of class, Y/n felt a pang of nervousness, but she never showed it
She gathered her things, trying to blend in with the crowd as she made her way to the door. But just as she reached it, she heard Ms. Romanoff's voice calling her name. *Y/n*'s heart sank as she turned to face her, her stomach churning with anxiety.
Ms. Romanoff's expression was stern as she scolded Y/n for not paying attention in class. *Y/n* felt her cheeks burn with shame as she mumbled an apology, her words barely audible over the noise of the other students leaving the room. Her harsh words were making you feel things.
“I'm sorry I assure you it won't happen again” you blurt out just trying to get this done and move on.
“I wanna know why this happened in the first place”
“I told you I was feeling lightheaded,” you say and clutch the desk for dear life
“You could-” Natasha gets interrupted “Miss Romanoff!” yells out the sociology teacher, Miss Maximoff. Miss Romanoff glances at you and says “We’ll continue this later” and scowls and goes to her colleague.
Feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, Y/n hurried out of the classroom, your mind racing with thoughts of what had just happened. She felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration, wishing she could go back and do things differently.
Leaning against the wall in the hallway, *Y/n* took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She felt trapped like she couldn't escape the cycle of monotony that seemed to define her life. You shut your eyes
“Are you okay?” Miss Romanoff says
You open your eyes, tremble out a response and quickly scatter away.
I put on my noise-canceling headphones and walk at a slower pace. I have never had an anxiety attack. I spout a cafe and buy myself iced tea and a sandwich. I feel just a little better, enough to get up and walk home I put on my sunglasses, the heat is unbearable. I still feel hollow, and hungry but at least I won't faint. I'm walking and*bump* *slosh* FUCK MY ICED TEAYou hardly pay attention to who it got spilled on, rather you dread the loss of your 4 dollars.
You take off your sun goggles and look up to apologize.
God? Do you hate me“I see we meet again,” she says
She? Ms. Romanoff
“Listen, miss it's a really bad time, bad day, bad luck whatever. I'm sorry, again for this,” you say with eyes that convey your regret and pain
“It's okay, it's leather anyway, get me a tissue will you?”
“Sure yeah sure” You pull out a handkerchief with your initials embroidered on it in the corner. And hand it to her.
You don't give much thought, to avoid further awkwardness you run away
“Hey, your napk-” but you were already gone.
The professor picks up your emptied iced tea and throws it in the trash can. She looks at the price and scoffs
“Relying on caffeine instead of meals? Of course, you faint and have a bad day, stupid”
She wipes the sticky spilled iced tea off her leather coat and orders 2 shots of espresso and bruschetta.
You reach home, enter your dorm house, and break down in tears. You don't know why, are you in such a state right now? y/n was never the kind to be easily dominated or to break down so easy
You take off your clothes and get into a steaming hot shower. Hot enough to turn your skin red, painful enough to hurt a lot, but not hot enough to melt you completely into the drain.
The water turns cold which sends a sharp sting to your slightly burnt skin.
You get out, and take out day-old spaghetti. Day old? It has grown some new life on it. You throw it out. You door dash some pizza. At 8 pm your bell rings which scares the shit out of you. You weren't used to anyone visiting you, your food already arrived and parcels didn't arrive at night.
It is a delivery guy with a huge.
A huge drink of iced tea
The guy hands you a letter
You open it
‘Complete your assignment on Kafka's imagery and metaphors’
‘N.R’
Who?
……………………………………………
Oh
‘N.R’
Natasha Romanoff
She sent me an iced tea.
Oh for earlier.
You can't help but smirk at the gesture.
You send her a text
You :
“Thank you for the iced tea, sweet gesture but confusing. Regardless, thank you. Btw how did you get my address?”
8:43
Ms Romanoff 💗
“You forget that you live on the dorm grounds and I just had to make one call to the dorm manager to ask where you live”
9:01
“Oh.”
There are better times for iced tea. But I'll drink it anyway. Maybe I will in the morning
The fact that she took so much effort to find your address and sent the same iced tea just for me
Oh god, she makes me feel the worst things.
You scroll through your Twitter feed and fall asleep while watching the Grammys drama and being sad over the fact that Lana del Rey didn't win. again.
7:45 am. The alarm which had been slept through 9 times rings.
You open your eyes. The sun is shining a little too bright
Of course
You're late
You brush your teeth. Change into an unironed skirt and a blouse. You grab your laptop, a notebook, and some pens. Phone yes, phone is also necessary.
The iced tea
7:58 am
You grab your bag and the iced tea and dash out. You'll make it in time for sure.
You calculate in your head. The walk to your class should take 15 minutes. Class starts at 8:30
You stop at the cafe again. Before entering you see a head of bright red hair. Should I stay or should I go, is the question to ask and the song playing inside the cafe which you can faintly hear.
The assignment fuck. Maybe I should skip her class. But that's rude. She sent me iced tea yesterday.
Why am I? y/n letting a woman dominate my life over such a trivial matter
Fuck it I'm going in*ding* The cafe bell rings but Natasha doesn't bother to check who has entered. You toss the empty drink of iced tea in the trash and walk up to the counter hoping the woman doesn't notice you. Which she does. You turn to look at her.
It's not Natasha
“Good morning Miss Maximoff!” thank god“Oh good morning sweetheart, come sit!” she is adorableYou order a croissant and a small drink of coffee
Miss Maximoff was having the same thing
“Hey so um, I was just heading-”
“To college? Coincidence much?” she laughs and says
“DO you come to this place often?” Wanda asks
“No, not really. I properly took notice of this place yesterday. I find it convenient”
“Well us professors come here often, I guarantee that whenever you come here you find a professor here or two”
“Oh wow crazy huh”
Her alarm rings.
“y/n what class do you have
“Huh”
“Which class do you have for first period” she says as she starts to speed up her eating process ad starts packing her notebooks
“Oh literature, miss-”
“Romanoff, yes. Well hurry up I'm sure Natasha is not fond of late people
“Yeah- uh- what time is it?”
“8:20”
“FUCK, um sorry miss Maximoff, I- am late thank you for chatting i-i need to go-” you head to the counter and pay. And dash out
Wanda was left with a confused expression.
You enter your class and sit down in the backside corner seat in hopes of avoiding Natasha’s gaze on you.
Exactly a minute later she entered the room and the first thing she does is look at you and smirk a little. That action made your heart speed up.
“Good morning class, I have an idea for your seating arrangement. I think the students who don't participate or have trouble participating should come up in front. So I can divide my attention equally”Oh god. I bet my life She'll call me first“Why don't we start with……” she looks around the room and her eyes land on you as she smirks.
“y/n! Come on up front. right in front”
Your stomach churns and you flush very obviously
You sit uncomfortably, Natasha's gaze has been on you for a long time. She moves one or two students around more and then starts the lesson.
Your eyes never leave her figure. How her lips move, her stance. All this while she's well aware of your eyes on her which she loves.
Natasha's mind was no less innocent. Natasha was a very experienced woman who knew how to get her way with everyone. But she never laid eyes on a student because she never felt they were up to par. But the way y/n would look at her made her think of how to ruin her. She wanted to completely control the poor student.
But Natasha didn't know that her student wasn't so innocent after all. y/n wanted Natasha. Sure she has made out with people and gone second base. But she always had a narcissistic side to her which led her to believe no one could satisfy her. But for Natasha, she’d go to extreme lengths to just be touched by her. She felt an unexplainable attraction to her.
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#teacher x student#natasha x reader#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff#x reader#y/n#marvel cinematic universe#marvel#marvel women#marvel wlw#lesbian#marvel wanda
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❝ illicit affairs ❞ — kth
— SUMMARY: ❝ You are the model for Taehyung's paintings. You are the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. You are the love of his life. You are a prostitute and a concubine. You are an illicit affair. You are a secret. ❞
— PAIRING: viscount!taehyung x concubine!reader
— TYPE: angst | historical!au, 1800s!au, secret relationship
— WORD COUNT: 629
— WARNINGS: infidelity, nude modeling, mention of nakedness, open ending, mention of prostitution, Taehyung is also a painter, based on Illicit Affairs (Taylor Swift)
— NOTES: i loved writing this story based on one of my favorite Taylor songs.
— RELEASE DATE: July 22, 2023
— CROSSPOSTING: ao3
Art has always been present in Taehyung's life. Even though he belonged to a noble family, his admiration for the artistic world was evident to everyone's eyes. There was no way to know Kim Taehyung and not share those thoughts as well.
Taehyung breathed art.
And not even the responsibilities as a viscount could stop his appreciation for it.
"Tae, can we do this later? I'm still so sleepy." The woman in front of him asked with her eyes still drowsy and shining due to the morning sunlight reflecting through the windows.
Taehyung gave her a slight smile as he observed her. Half of (Y/N)'s body was covered by the thin layer of silk sheets, leaving her upper body exposed to the breeze that entered the room.
Her hair was messy, a typical look that Taehyung loved to observe during the beginning of the day especially when her hair strands brushed against the woman's sensitive nipples.
She was so beautiful. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen in all his years of life.
He loved painting her in his countless frames.
"Take your time, my love. Don't you want this frame to be perfect?" It was Taehyung's turn to ask a question. A slight charming smile adorned his thin lips as he dipped the brush into the palette for a moment.
"Just for you to keep it hidden in your drawer and away from your wife?"
A sarcastic and angry tone from (Y/N)'s voice hit Taehyung like a punch in his stomach and causing him to sigh as he noticed the lady's teary eyes.
Realizing that she wouldn't say anything else and would continue holding the sheet tightly, Taehyung took care to move the wooden easel and the frame with the unfinished painting away.
The viscount walked over to (Y/N) with gentle steps, placing his knees on the mattress before touching her face. His hands on the sides of her chin making the exchange of gazes almost required.
"You know I only love you my love."
(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh before pulling her hands away from the nobleman.
"Then why are you still married to her? You'd be with me if you truly loved me."
Taehyung wished he could lie. To promise that he would try to fight against his father's rules and leave the woman he was forced to marry.
However those would be empty promises he couldn't keep.
(Y/N) knew it. She knew that a viscount could never acknowledge a marriage to a prostitute in society's eyes.
She would always be the concubine of the man she loved. Always the other woman. Always a secret.
"I can't disappoint my father."
"So you'd rather disappoint me." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Both of them knew it.
"I'm so sorry."
Holding back tears the woman embraced her own naked body and laid back down. Her head ached with the screams trapped in her heart.
Why were things like this? Why did illicit affairs hurt so much?
"Baby..."
"Don't call me 'baby,' please," She pleaded, giving up on holding back her tears. "Just stay with me and hold me for a few more minutes."
Knowing that there were no better ways to soothe the heartbroken of the woman he loved, Taehyung nodded and settled beside (Y/N), intertwining his long arms and leaving caresses on her skin.
The viscount placed a gentle kiss on (Y/N)'s shoulder before uttering the words that felt like punches to her feelings.
"I really love you so much. I hope you know it my baby."
She sniffled as she felt more tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.
"I know."
And that's what hurt her the most. She really knew it.
#taehyung#bts taehyung#taehyung bts#kim taehyung#taehyung fanfic#taehyung angst#taehyung fic#taehyung ff#taehyung drabble#taehyung oneshot#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#taehyung x y/n#taehyung x oc#taehyung scenarios#taehyung au#bts scenarios#bts x female reader#bts x reader#bts x you#bts x oc#bts x y/n#bts fanfic#bts ff#bts drabble#bts one shot#bts au#bts angst#bts#kim taehyung x reader
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So in the art work of your reverse au. What are all of azmodeus tattoos? I see some glimpses of them and they look so cool. Does Doely have any too?
Love your artwork btw :)
oh!!! thank you!! first things -- doeley has one tattoo: a big big snake that covers his torso and right leg. two, azmodeus has a TON of tattoos. a lot of the ones he has now (as i do believe he changes them out every few hundred years just because he can) are doeley-centric in some way -- he has a half-sleeve of flowers that doeley sent him back in the 1800's after one of their breakups, back in 1601, a heart over his heart that has a "doeley" banner, a tattoo of them on the wall of eden, a snake on his bicep, stuff like that. other tattoos include:
"edith" on his stomach, for the witch who cursed him in like 1500-something
a tiger, as that was his original animal form back in eden
flames on his wrists, coming out of the curse scars there
various curse markings
the libra symbol (bc the earth is a libra)
a necklace of thorns (very biblical)
wings on his back (obviously)
pentagrams on the backs and fronts of his hands and feet (for keeping various curses at bay)
"fear not!" on his knuckles, for the traditional angelic saying
"knowledge is power", because despite being a lust demon, his real motive is peddling knowledge, gaining knowledge, etc
and probably more i'm forgetting, honestly. thank you so much for asking about my boys, i always love to talk about them :^)
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chapter one — violetta and alfredo.
Every detail of her being held captive in a cascade of enchantment. Her beauty was a symphony of nature's finest elements, a composition that left him spellbound. Her hair, reminiscent of the morning light that kissed the shores and painted the sky, framed her visage in a halo of radiance. Eyes, bright and vibrant like the ever-changing hues of autumn leaves, mirrored the lively spirit of the earth's vast wild plains. Bathed in the moonlight, she seemed to emanate the very essence of life, casting out darkness with the light it needed to thrive.
Genre: No Curses Au!, 1800s Royalty AU!
Warning/s: Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pinning, One - Sided Romance, Royalty, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Courting, Arranged Marriage;
masterlist
note: almost 12k words,,,,,,it seems im back to my old way of writing. its just that type of life i suppose. anyway, enjoy!!! i hope this makes up for ghost of you!!! i love you!!!
SHE THINKS THAT THE SIGHT OF A CITY LIKE THIS WAS MARVELOUS. The anticipation of the journey ahead filled her with a sense of excitement and wonder, her mind drifting to the possibilities that lay beyond the distant river. Lost in her daydreams, she imagined the adventures that awaited them on the other side, eager to explore the unknown.
However, her reverie was abruptly interrupted as she was pulled back to reality by the need to change into a new outfit. Her brother, Yu, was busy preparing for the journey as well, and she knew he must be equally disguised to blend in with the crowds. Yet despite the preparations, Yu seemed adamant about reuniting with his old friends from his academy days, particularly Lord Nanami, whom he held in high esteem.
The arrival of nobles from distant lands to celebrate the king's birthday added an air of caution to their travels. Father would undoubtedly be furious if he knew they were embarking on such a journey without proper precautions. However, Yu had planned their departure a day early, anticipating potential delays due to weather or other unforeseen circumstances.
Yu's thoughtful consideration for their well-being touched her deeply, a testament to his generous nature amidst the complexities of their world. She cherished his kindness above all else, a beacon of light in the darkness of the Jujutsu world. As they prepared to embark on their journey, she couldn't help but feel grateful for her brother's meticulousness in all of this.
Yu's decision to choose an inn east of the city, known for its discretion and privacy, was a thoughtful one, reflecting his understanding of their preferences. He took great care to ensure their privacy would be maintained by organizing the departure of all men in small groups, minimizing the risk of drawing attention to their presence.
She departed with the servants first, allowing Yu to bring up the rear and oversee the process without causing any delays. As they approached the inn, named 'Cherry Merry,' she couldn't help but giggle at the whimsical name. Yet, the sweet scent of cherry blossoms that enveloped the room upon their arrival immediately charmed her, offering a welcome reprieve from the hustle and bustle of the capital.
The simplicity of the room, adorned with cherry-colored sheets and subtle hints of silver, resonated with her taste. The presence of two large lamps on either side of the bed, accompanied by round tables, added a touch of elegance to the space. A small desk awaited her, adorned with quills resting atop clean white parchments, and a bottle of ink enclosed in a glass cylinder, inviting her to immerse herself in creativity.
Despite the temptation to open the wide windows that flanked the bed, she hesitated, mindful of the need to maintain their privacy. The unlit fireplace, filled with fresh logs scented with cherry blossom, added to the cozy ambiance of the room, creating a serene retreat for them amidst the chaos of the outside world.
Her luggage sat neatly arranged on the edge of the bed, a silent testament to her presence in the room. Embellishments adorning her belongings hinted at her noble lineage, with the wide heron's head emblem proudly displayed. It was a symbol of the once illustrious lineage of their clan, now revitalized by her brother's lordship. Their family's fate had been lackluster for years, overshadowed by the repercussions of siding with the wrong faction in the previous war. Whispers of their father's shortcomings echoed through the halls of Jujutsu society's higher echelons, yet her brother's tireless efforts had begun to mend their tarnished reputation.
Despite the weight of their family's history resting heavily on her shoulders, she found solace in the unspoken understanding between her and her brother. He never asked for her assistance, preferring to shoulder the burden alone, but she knew that her role extended beyond mere appearances. It was a duty she willingly embraced, masking her inner turmoil with a facade of poise and grace whenever required.
Raised in the sheltered confines of Haibara's distant ashy meadows, she had always felt stifled by the constraints of her noble upbringing. The societal expectations of a lady felt suffocating, constraining her desire for freedom and autonomy. Deep down, she yearned to break free from the shackles of her status, to embrace a life unrestrained by societal norms.
Her brother, understanding and empathetic, would have readily granted her that freedom had she asked. But she couldn't bear the thought of leaving him alone in their struggle for redemption. They were each other's pillars of support, their unwavering bond the only constant in an uncertain world. If she were to leave, he would be left to navigate the treacherous waters of politics and power alone. The mere thought brought a pang of guilt to her heart, a silent reminder of the sacrifices she made for her brother's sake.
As she stood at the threshold of her room, lost in her thoughts, Kusakabe's voice broke through the silence, drawing her attention. She turned to face him, the weight of her contemplation evident in her eyes.
“You alright, little one?” He asks her, taking a place by her side.
"I'm fine, just... there is much in my mind, Kusakabe," she confessed, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I have no business being here."
Kusakabe nodded in understanding, his expression reflecting a sense of empathy. "No," he agreed solemnly, "but it is the king’s invitation. King Satoru insists on everyone being there to celebrate his birthday. And he likes your brother enough. Shielded both of you from the elders.”
Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help but sigh in resignation. “I know that much. But I was happy at home, you know.”
"Quite obvious, little lady," Kusakabe chuckled softly, "But isn’t this your introduction to society?”
Her shoulders slumped slightly as she contemplated his words. "Not what I want. I’ll never hear the end of society if I show up.”
Kusakabe's laughter rang out, a warm and familiar sound that eased the tension in the air. “Hm, I suppose you won’t.”
For a moment, they stood in silence, enveloped in their own thoughts. Then, with a gentle smile, Kusakabe approached her, reaching out to tuck a misplaced strand of her hair behind her ear. "I can’t believe you’re already so grown up. I never thought I’d ever be watching both you and your brother like this.”
Atsuya Kusakabe had been a steadfast presence in their lives, standing by their family through thick and thin. From the siege of their family home to the challenges they faced in their daily lives, he had always been there, protecting them with unwavering loyalty.
A few years older, he had been taken in by their father when he was gravely injured on the streets, offering him freedom in exchange for his service to the family. Since then, he had become an indispensable part of their lives, more like an elder brother than a servant. His dedication and loyalty had earned him their trust and respect, making him an integral part of their family.
"This is so new to me," She mused, a hint of wonder in her voice.
"Hm? What is?" He inquired, turning to regard her with mild curiosity.
"Atsuya would not say this. This is certainly not you," She replied with a playful grin, causing him to chuckle and nod in agreement.
He rolled his eyes affectionately, pinching her cheek. "You are ever so cheeky like this. Brazen even. A man would not stand a chance, I fear."
"Who needs a man anyway?" she retorted, her grin widening mischievously. "Yu would be happy to keep me at home as a spinster. Would you not be happy about that too?
He sighed softly, a wistful expression crossing his features. "It’s not that I wouldn’t be happy to keep you at home with us. It’s just that… don’t you want that life too?"
She raised a skeptical eyebrow, contemplating his words. "What do you mean?"
"You know, falling in love. Being happy. Having your own family," He explained gently, his gaze searching hers.
"But you guys are my family," She replied sincerely, her voice filled with warmth. "I’m content with that."
He sighed, nodding in understanding. "I can’t argue with that."
She smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you. Now, go and eat something. You must be famished after being stuck with me."
He laughed, the sound echoing with fondness. "As if. Go back to your room too, little one. You need to rest before we resume our journey."
With a playful wink, she nodded in agreement. "Alright, Atsuya. I'll see you later."
As he departed, she remained standing in the hallway for a moment, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her. The conversation with Atsuya had stirred something within her, prompting her to reflect on her own desires and aspirations.
What comes next?
What is there to be for her?
She sighed, pondering.
What is there for a woman?
IT WASN’T LONG WHEN THE THOUGHTS OVERWHELMED HER. Heading back to her room, she couldn't help but ponder the notion of love and family. While she cherished the bond she shared with her brother and uncle, she couldn't deny the faint tug of curiosity about what it might be like to experience romantic love and create a family of her own.
Settling into her room, she allowed herself to daydream for a moment, envisioning a future where she found someone who cherished her just as much as her family did. But for now, she was content to enjoy the present moment and the journey ahead with her beloved brother and their sworn sword by her side.
As the hours stretched on with little to occupy her mind, she found herself grappling with an unrelenting sense of boredom. Initially, she attempted to immerse herself in the books she had brought along, eagerly flipping through the pages in search of diversion. However, the stories she once found captivating now felt dull and predictable, failing to hold her interest for long.
Turning to another favorite pastime, she reached for her writing materials, hoping to channel her restlessness into creative expression. Yet, as she attempted to weave words into poetry, she found her thoughts scattered and uninspired, unable to summon the eloquence that usually flowed effortlessly from her pen.
With a heavy sigh, she leaned back against the soft cushions of her seat, her gaze drifting aimlessly towards the ceiling. The emptiness of the room seemed to mirror the void within her, amplifying her sense of ennui and prompting a restless stirring within her soul. She knew she couldn't bear another moment of this oppressive boredom and resolved to find something, anything, to occupy her mind and soothe her restless spirit.
Frustrated by her inability to find solace in either reading or writing, she rose from her seat with determination, determined to seek out an activity that would banish her boredom once and for all. Casting a quick glance around the room, her eyes fell upon a familiar object tucked away in a corner – a beautifully crafted chess set.
A spark of excitement ignited within her as she approached the set, her fingers tracing the intricate carvings of the chess pieces. Chess had always been a favorite pastime of hers, a game of strategy and intellect that never failed to captivate her mind.
With a smile of anticipation, she carefully set up the chessboard, arranging the pieces in their starting positions. As she settled into her seat, her mind focused solely on the challenge that lay before her, she felt a sense of purpose and excitement wash over her, replacing the oppressive boredom that had plagued her earlier.
Lost in the intricacies of the game, she relished the mental stimulation it provided, each move calculated and strategic. The hours flew by in a blur of intense concentration, her boredom forgotten as she immersed herself in the timeless battle of wits that unfolded upon the chessboard.
By the time she emerged victorious from her match, her mind felt alive and invigorated, the lingering traces of boredom banished by the exhilarating thrill of the game.
But the problem is she keeps winning.
She could only pout as she looked at the pieces.
She needed to get out of here.
She needed to not be bored.
IT WASN’T LONG WHEN SHE STARTED TO PREPARE TO LEAVE. As she rummaged through her belongings, her heart raced with excitement, her hands trembling with anticipation. She knew exactly what she was searching for, and when her fingers finally closed around the familiar handle of her fishing rod, a triumphant smile spread across her face. With the rucksack in hand, she practically danced towards the door, her mind already envisioning the peaceful tranquility of the nearby river.
However, her excitement was quickly tempered by the realization that there were guards stationed just outside her door, their watchful presence a constant reminder of her restricted freedom. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she opened the door and greeted the guards with a polite nod, masking her inner turmoil behind a facade of composure.
Engaging the guards in casual conversation, she deftly maneuvered the conversation towards the topic of their well-being, using her charm and wit to subtly persuade them to accept her offer of refreshment. With a gracious smile, she produced a handful of gold coins from the folds of her dressage, insisting that they indulge in a well-deserved respite.
Despite their initial protests, the guards ultimately yielded to her request, their reluctance overshadowed by the implicit threat of consequences should they defy her wishes. As they hurriedly departed to enjoy their brief reprieve, she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at her ability to wield her influence and power when necessary.
With the guards temporarily distracted, she seized the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, her heart pounding with exhilaration as she embarked on her impromptu adventure to the river. As she made her way through the lush foliage, the sound of the rushing water growing louder with each step, she felt a sense of liberation wash over her, reveling in the freedom that came from defying the constraints of her gilded cage.
After swiftly changing into a simple ensemble to minimize the risk of being recognized, the lady deftly attended to her own attire without the need for assistance. With no ladies-in-waiting at her beck and call, she completed her dressing with practiced efficiency, braiding her hair before adorning herself with a scarlet hat that lent a touch of flair to her ensemble. A satisfied smile graced her lips as she appraised her reflection in the mirror, pleased with her appearance.
With nimble fingers, she quickly assembled her fishing rod, drawing upon her past experience to complete the task with ease. Gathering her essentials into a rucksack, she prepared for her impromptu adventure, ensuring she had everything she needed for a pleasant outing.
As she made her way down the stairs, she maintained a cautious vigilance, scanning her surroundings to avoid any encounters with the guards stationed throughout the manor. Concealing her face with the rucksack, she felt her heart quicken with nervous anticipation, yet her determination propelled her forward, undeterred by the prospect of potential obstacles.
Stepping out onto the stone cobbled street, she relished the sensation of her sturdy hunting boots against the pavement, the familiar weight grounding her as she embarked on her excursion. Despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach, a wide smile graced her features as she set out to seize the day, eager to immerse herself in the adventure that awaited her.
"Excuse me," she called out to a passing man, his long white beard and merchant's attire marking him as a familiar sight in the bustling capital. "Good man, I do not mean to disturb your morning, but could you tell me the way to the river?"
The man regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and surprise, but he quickly nodded in response. "Yes, uh, it's to the left, to the left."
"To the left, to the left," she repeated with a grateful smile. "Thank you, good sir!"
With a nod of acknowledgment, the man continued on his way, leaving her to begin her adventure.
As she made her way through the narrow streets, the vibrant energy of the capital enveloped her. She walked amidst a sea of people, each engaged in their own activities—selling, trading, and going about their daily lives. The sidewalks were bustling with activity, and makeshift markets sprang up along the paved pathways, offering a colorful array of goods and wares.
With her fishing rod in hand, she navigated through the crowd, her senses alive with the sights, sounds, and smells of the bustling city. The beauty of the capital unfolded before her, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the adventure that lay ahead.
As she strolled through the lively streets, the warm rays of the sun bathed the city in a golden glow, casting a cheerful ambiance over the bustling scene. People of all ages and walks of life meandered along the cobblestone pathways, some leisurely enjoying the sunshine while others bustled about their daily tasks.
Mothers cradled their infants in their arms, their laughter mingling with the cheerful chatter of couples strolling hand in hand. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread wafting from nearby bakeries, tempting passersby with its irresistible scent. Old taverns, steeped in history and tradition, stood as silent witnesses to the passage of time, their weathered facades echoing tales of days long gone.
Amidst the historic landmarks, she spotted newer establishments springing up, each one a testament to the city's vibrant spirit of innovation. A quaint watchmaker's corner caught her eye, its storefront adorned with a freshly painted sign that gleamed in the sunlight. Intrigued, she stepped inside and browsed the assortment of finely crafted timepieces on display, marveling at the meticulous craftsmanship.
After making her selections, she continued on her way, her steps quickening with anticipation as she approached a bustling market stall. There, she purchased provisions for her fishing expedition—a selection of bait and tackle, as well as a loaf of freshly baked bread and a refreshing cup of lemonade imported from distant lands. With her supplies in hand, she set off once more, eager to embark on her outdoor adventure along the riverbank.
As she wandered through the city streets, she couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for the simplicity of the lives she observed around her. The ordinary people she passed seemed content with their everyday concerns—finding love, pursuing careers, and building homes—without the burdens of status and expectation that weighed heavily on her own shoulders. Despite her privileged position as a high-ranking woman, she envied their freedom from the constraints imposed by societal norms and familial obligations.
Pushing aside these thoughts, she focused on her quest to find the river. With a warm smile and friendly greetings, she attempted to engage with the locals she encountered along the way, despite their wary and hesitant responses to her unfamiliar appearance. Clad in a dark velvet gown adorned with feathers, she stood out amidst the crowd, a foreign presence in their midst.
After a half-hour journey, she finally reached the riverbank, her eyes lighting up with delight at the sight before her. The calm waters of the river flowed gently, reflecting the blue sky above like a mirror. The riverbed, dotted with large and small stones, created a mesmerizing contrast against the water's dark hue. The peaceful ambiance of the surroundings made her feel as if she had stumbled upon a hidden sanctuary, a tranquil oasis amidst the bustling cityscape.
Setting aside her fishing rod, she retrieved a bag of worms from her rucksack and carefully baited the hook, following the instructions her brother had taught her. With a practiced hand, she cast her line into the water, watching with anticipation as it disappeared beneath the surface. Standing on the edge of the rocky outcrop, surrounded by nature's beauty, she felt a sense of calm wash over her, as if all her worries and cares had been momentarily suspended in the gentle flow of the river.
As she focused on fishing, memories of her childhood with her brother Yu flooded her mind. She recalled the days spent by the riverbank, learning the art of fishing from him. Yu, ever the resourceful and creative one, had fashioned her first fishing rod from sturdy sticks he had whittled down with his trusty knife. With a few modifications and some ingenuity, he had transformed the simple sticks into functional fishing rods, complete with thin wiring and metal hooks.
The nostalgia of those carefree days brought a bittersweet smile to her lips as she waited for a bite. Suddenly, she felt a sharp tug on her fishing rod, jolting her back to the present moment. Excitement surged through her as she realized she had caught a fish. With a surge of adrenaline, she gripped the rod tightly and began to reel it in, feeling the familiar thrill of the catch.
However, in her eagerness to land the fish, she pulled too hard, causing the fishing rod to slip from her grasp. With a gasp of surprise, she watched in dismay as the rod flew behind her, caught on something unseen. The sound of horses nearby startled her, and she froze in panic, holding onto the rod as she tried to free it from whatever it had become entangled with.
"You, woman with the fishing rod, how dare you fish here?" The voice boomed, causing her to whirl around and face two men on horseback. One was a tall, lean figure with sandy brown hair, his expression stern and disapproving. The other remained calm atop his horse, her fishing rod's edge snagged in his cloak. She gasped in realization.
"Oh, dear god! Please don't move," she pleaded, releasing her grip on the fishing rod and hastily reaching for her rucksack. With trembling hands, she retrieved a small pocket knife and rushed towards the two men on horseback, her heart pounding with urgency. She felt tall enough to reach the cloak and was about to cut it when the redheaded man stopped her. “Let me help you, my lord!”
"How dare you point a blade at the king’s high minister, you lowly woman?" he bellowed, dismounting from his horse and restraining her.
"Ino, there is no need for such fury over a trivial matter," the blond man interjected calmly. "We inadvertently interrupted her fishing. She has every right to be here. It is open to the public. That’s the purpose."
The man, named Ino, bowed his head slowly. “Forgive me, my lord.”
"The king’s high minister?" Her breath caught as she locked eyes with him, her gaze meeting his soft brown eyes behind green-tinted goggles. Yu will not let her hear the end of this with his teasing. She should have known who he was.
He was handsome, far more than her brother had described. She glanced at the brown-haired man and attempted to free herself, but he confiscated the knife. Rolling her eyes at his overreaction, she focused on removing the hook from the minister's cloak.
Then she got down on her knees in a curtsey she had always known to do, her eyes averting the minister's gaze nervously as the man with red hair looked at her with proud demeanor. She had never seen Nanami Kento before. The times he visited their family’s estate, she would be out visiting Utahime in her family’s estate. She purses her lips, looking at him. But ending up flustered, cheeks colored scarlet.
He was very handsome, a bright burning star in an already bright sky. So bright that no one could even outshine him. His primed blond locks were neatly pleated on the side of his head. Dressed in a silver uniform, he looked ever so formal — Yu had said he never wore anything else but his military uniform. She wondered if he did this every day, walking and riding about the city without any guards and freely accompanied by such companions. It could be dangerous if he was not careful or keeping a low profile.
"My lord, I must apologize for any offense I may have caused," she spoke softly, bowing her head in contrition. "I understand that such a transgression is punishable—"
"Dear lady, there is no need for apologies when no wrong was committed intentionally," Nanami interjected, his voice calm and reassuring. "Please, rise and reveal yourself. We assure you, we harbor no ill intentions towards you."
Obeying his command, she stood up, allowing Nanami to fully see her. He couldn't help but be struck by her beauty; her long hair tied behind her back accentuated her celestial skin, making her eyes shine even brighter than he thought possible. In her innocence, she appeared as a vision of purity, and Nanami couldn't fathom her being capable of any wrongdoing.
However, her attire revealed her foreign origins. Such dress was uncommon among the women of the capital or the surrounding regions. She must have been the daughter of a merchant, Nanami deduced.
"What is your name?" the blond man asked as he dismounted from his horse. "I presume you are not from the capital, am I correct?"
She smiled warmly at him and shook her head. "No, my lord minister, I am from the countryside."
"Ah," Nanami smiled triumphantly. "I am correct, then. You are from the countryside, but your accent—"
"The countryside boasts a variety of accents, my lord minister," she replied, though she felt a pang of guilt despite the truth in her words. "I reside near the far meadows, within the Haibara lands."
"I see. You must be a vassal of my lord Haibara." Nanami nodded thoughtfully, patting his horse before gripping the reins. Ino glanced at his lord minister, unsure if this decision was wise. Turning to his friend, he hesitated, "Ino, will you return to the castle and inform them that I will be delayed? I intend to walk back."
"But Lord Nanami, this is not prudent. I cannot leave you here—"
"But you will," Nanami insisted firmly, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "That is my wish, Ino. I wish to accompany this lady back to her lodgings safely."
"But—"
"That is my decision, and if you disregard it, you are not truly following me, my friend," Nanami interrupted, his tone unwavering. "Have you not pledged to comply with any request I make?"
Takuma Ino sighed heavily, recognizing his friend's stubbornness. Reluctantly mounting his horse, he cast a concerned glance at Nanami. "Very well, but ensure you don your cloak upon your return. Your safety is paramount, my lord minister."
Nanami Kento chuckled softly at her words, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Yes, my lady. It seems even princes are not immune to moments of chivalry."
She returned his grin, feeling a sense of warmth at his playful response. "Indeed, my lord. It's a refreshing reminder that chivalry still exists in this world."
As she began gathering her belongings, Nanami watched her with a gentle expression. "Take your time, my lady. There's no rush."
She nodded appreciatively, feeling a sense of ease in his presence. "Thank you, my lord. I won't be long."
With a graceful movement, she carefully packed her belongings back into her rucksack, ensuring everything was secure. As she finished, she straightened up and turned to face Nanami once more.
"Now that we're alone," he began, his voice soft yet commanding, "I would prefer it if you addressed me by my name. Kento will suffice, my lady. The formal titles... they feel unnecessary in our private conversation."
She nodded in understanding, a smile playing on her lips. "Of course, Kento. Thank you for your kindness."
As they stepped out into the bustling streets of the city, a sense of anticipation filled the air. The city buzzed with activity, merchants hawking their wares, street performers entertaining passersby, and the aroma of street food wafting through the air. Despite the crowds and the chaos, there was an undeniable energy that permeated the atmosphere, a vibrant pulse that seemed to echo the heartbeat of the city itself.
Walking side by side, Kento and the lady navigated their way through the throngs of people with ease, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they exchanged stories and shared insights about their lives. With each step they took, the city revealed itself in all its splendor, its grandeur and its flaws laid bare for all to see.
The lady found herself captivated by the sights and sounds of the city, her senses alive with the vibrant energy that surrounded her. She marveled at the towering buildings that reached towards the sky, the narrow alleyways that twisted and turned like a maze, and the colorful tapestry of life that unfolded before her eyes.
Kento, meanwhile, was content to simply be in her presence, enjoying the simple pleasure of her company as they strolled through the city streets. He listened intently to her words, his heart warmed by the genuine warmth and kindness that emanated from her.
"I think I get what you mean," the woman said, her voice carrying a hint of understanding.
"Hm, about what?" Kento inquired, his curiosity piqued as he raised a brow in intrigue.
"It’s as though those titles just feel like it's about to drown you and the expectations with it, just too heavy to carry," she explained, her words filled with a sense of weightiness.
Kento's gaze softened as he listened, his eyes following her every movement as she carefully adjusted her rucksack. "Yes," he nodded slowly, "Exactly like that. And there is no time for you to think about what you actually want to be."
The woman nodded in agreement, a solemn expression on her face as they continued their stroll through the city. "Well, the control is often out of our hands," she remarked, her voice tinged with resignation. "A woman is always to be charming to her husband and obedient to all men, father and husband, without having the right to think of it. The same as your predicament, Kento."
As the woman's words echoed in Nanami's mind, he couldn't help but be reminded of his own family's struggles with duty and expectations. His thoughts drifted to his mother, a woman who had been forced into a marriage with his father solely out of obligation and tradition. The weight of her sacrifice and the constraints of societal norms weighed heavily on his heart.
Nanami's mother had endured a life of silent suffering, bound by the chains of duty and obedience. Her marriage had been a transaction, devoid of love or choice, leaving her trapped in a life she had never desired. Nanami had witnessed her struggles firsthand, the longing in her eyes for a life of her own, free from the shackles of expectation.
For a moment, a wave of melancholy washed over Nanami, engulfing him in a sea of sorrow and helplessness. He felt the weight of his own obligations pressing down on him, the burden of his father's expectations suffocating his spirit. His mother's sacrifice had taught him the harsh reality of their world – that sometimes, duty came at the cost of one's happiness.
Yet, despite his inner turmoil, Nanami remained resolute. He knew the risks of challenging his father's authority, the potential consequences of defying tradition. He couldn't afford to act impulsively, not when the stakes were so high. Nanami understood that he would have to bide his time, waiting for the right moment to assert his own desires and ambitions.
As they continued their walk through the bustling streets of the city, Nanami's thoughts remained consumed by the weight of duty and the struggle for autonomy. He couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that gripped him, knowing that for now, he could do nothing but watch and wait.
As Nanami's thoughts swirled in a tempest of emotion, the gentle cadence of the woman's voice brought him back to the present moment. He found solace in the way she spoke his name, the syllables rolling off her tongue with a delicate grace that soothed his troubled mind.
"Kento." Her voice was a soft melody, a gentle reminder of the reality that surrounded them. "Are you alright?"
Nanami's initial response was a reflex, a facade he put up to shield his vulnerability. "Y–yes," he stammered, attempting to mask the turmoil brewing within him. "I am very well”
The woman's concern was evident in her expression, her eyes reflecting a genuine worry for his well-being. "I had thought I had broken you. Do forgive my words if they have offended you.”
Nanami's smile, though strained, radiated warmth and reassurance. It was a facade he wore with practiced ease, a mask to conceal the turmoil raging beneath the surface. "Oh no, do not be alarmed, you have not," he reassured her, his voice steady despite the storm brewing within. "It was just you who said such true things. On behalf of the men in the world, I apologize over that matter. Women have as much say in things as we men do, I agree."
His words were a testament to his belief in equality and justice, a declaration of solidarity with those who sought to challenge the constraints of societal norms. Yet, behind his composed facade, Nanami grappled with a torrent of conflicting emotions, wrestling with the weight of his own obligations and the desire for freedom.
As they walked together through the bustling streets, their conversation took a playful turn, the woman teasing Nanami with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"For a moment, I thought there that you are pioneering a way for the kingdoms, Kento," she teased, her grin playful as she gazed at the lord minister.
Nanami couldn't help but chuckle at her jest. "Maybe one day, when men realize women as their equals, then perhaps that will happen," he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of wistfulness.
The woman pursed her lips thoughtfully. "You should know that if all women were like you, then perhaps men would fall to their knees and bow to all women, who would be our queens.”
A raised brow was the woman's response to Nanami's statement. "Must all women be like that in order to be queens? Can't sweet girls be queens, or ones who are powerless?" She challenged him.
Nanami paused for a moment, considering her words carefully. "Well, I suppose I did not think of that... all people can be queens or kings," he answered diplomatically. "If they manage to convince others, if they have the strength to do it, then they will have power."
The woman grinned at his careful response. "Careful answer, Kento," she remarked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"I try my best to please others with my words, of course." Nanami replied with a smile, his gaze lingering on her as they walked. "I have forgotten to ask, forgive me.. What is your name?"
As she paused, a flicker of uncertainty crossed her features. She knew she couldn't reveal her true identity, aware of the potential consequences if her brother found out. Yet, with a graceful smile and a steady gaze, she decided to share a piece of herself with Nanami.
With gentle sincerity, she whispered her name to him. It was a moment that seemed to suspend time, as if the world around them faded into the background. Nanami's heart skipped a beat at the sound of her name, finding it as sweet as the person standing before him. In that instant, it felt as though life itself was unfurling in the most enchanting way, as if a new chapter was beginning with each syllable spoken.
"It's nice to meet you," he murmured, pressing his lips gently against her hand as she extended it to him. The touch was as delicate and soft as feathers brushing against her pillow. A sense of warmth and admiration filled her as she regarded the gentle lord minister before her. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
She withdrew her hand, clasping it with the other as they exchanged pleasantries. Glancing around, she realized they were nearing her intended destination. Time seemed to have slipped away in the company of this charming prince, leaving her with a memorable stroll to cherish.
"Do you like music?" he inquired, his eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and melancholy as he spoke of his passion. There was a depth to him, a complexity that intrigued her.
"Very much," she replied sincerely. "I often find myself lost in all kinds of melodies. Sometimes, the music moves me so much that I can't help but dance. The musicians at home would play the best tunes to dance to! My brother teases me so much for it—” Se stops once she realizes he freezes and she blushes. “Am I talking too much?”
He shakes his head and smiles warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Not at all. Passion exists everywhere. Music is just one of them. Music is a deeply personal experience for everyone. Do you prefer lively tunes then?"
"Oh, yes, dearly," she chuckled. "If I could dance until dawn, laughing and giggling, I would!"
Nanami's compliment caused a faint blush to rise to her cheeks. "I could imagine you outshining all the ladies of the king’s court," he remarked. "A beauty and mind such as yours would be a power unable to be reckoned with by all others."
She offered a soft smile in response. "Such compliments must get you far with the ladies of court, then?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh no, dear lady. Women are always charming to me at court, yes. But there are other matters more important for me to attend to."
She regarded him curiously. "And you... you have no interest in them, my lord?"
"Kento," he corrected gently, his expression thoughtful. "It's not that I lack interest in women... it's just that I haven't found the right one."
She tinges red once more. “Forgive me for my slip of the tongue, Kento.”
“Not at all.” He reassures her again, a smile on his face. “It happens.”
She pouts back at him. “I still need to do better at it. You requested that I call you Kento and I slip.”
“It will get better with time.” The blond says to her, waving her off. “It’s not that important. We aren’t at the king’s court.”
“Oh, so you wish to see me again?” She now grins at him, looking up to his higher figure. “I am irresistible, I suppose.”
“You are quite a cheeky lady, aren’t you?”
Her eyes beamed with mischief. “Why, yes! ‘Tis would be dull if I was not.”
“Then you have my answer to your question earlier.”
Her brows furrowed. “On what?”
“I will not be shackled to marry someone that I do not like.”
"But won't that matter?" she questioned, meeting his gaze with curiosity. "We don't always get to choose who we wed..."
Nanami nodded in agreement. "The king is insistent on seeing me married. He believes it will make me more sociable, less focused on my work. But….”
“You haven’t found the right woman.” She finishes for him.
He nodded. “And the king insists that I should make it happen as soon as possible.”
"Well, I’m sure you work so diligently that the king simply worries," she remarked with a small smile. “You are his friend, after all. Well, the whispers say he is.”
He snickered softly. “The man is more of a nuisance and trouble than he's worth."
She laughed lightly. "I’m sure the king is not that bad, my lord."
Nanami shook his head, a wry smile touching his lips. "Believe me, you wouldn't wish to be at court, my lady."
She pivoted on her heels, coming to the realization that they had arrived. The familiar facade of her inn stood before her, a place she considered her refuge. A flicker of concern crossed her mind as she acknowledged the potential complications of bringing the lord minister into such a common establishment. The inconveniences it could cause were considerably too significant to overlook, and she resolved not to add unnecessary trouble to the lives of those around her.
Stepping away from his side, she turned to face him. A subtle height similarity emerged between them, with him only slightly taller. The streets around them whispered with the murmur of city life, the vastness of the cityscape stretching out beyond. In that moment, the boundaries between their worlds became apparent, and the delicate dance of their encounter carried an air of bittersweet transience.
"I suppose this is where you leave me," she said, her voice carrying a hint of resignation.
"Are you sure of that?" He asked, his brow furrowing with genuine concern for her safety. He didn't know her well, but he wished he did. "Not all of the capital is as safe as it once was..."
"I shall be fine," she assured him, mustering a convincing smile that could rival the radiance of a thousand women. "I am off to the ships tomorrow anyway. We will be returning home. I will be fine, I promise. I am a merchant's daughter, Kento. I know a thing or two about protecting myself. Do not worry about me.”
"But still..." he began, his worry lingering in the air.
"Please, Kento," she insisted once more, her voice soft but resolute. "I will be fine."
"But I must insist on bringing you to your quarters tonight safely, my lady," he persisted, his tone gentle yet firm.
"That is very kind of you, my lord," she conceded with a grateful smile. She looked adorable, slipping once more, with formality. She’s such a kind little soul, prim and proper. And yet so cheeky. When she finally realizes, she pouts once more. “This tongue of mine slips too often.”
"It is merely Kento," he said softly, his eyes reflecting a sincerity that touched her heart. "I insist on that with you. If I see you again. This informality makes me happy. It makes me feel…”
Amidst an atmosphere charged with unspoken tension, two figures stood resolute, their gazes locked in a silent exchange that transcended mere words. Despite the insistent push of the wind, urging them to part and surrender to the whims of the world around them, they remained steadfast, rooted in the intimate space they shared. In this moment, it was as if the external world faded into insignificance, leaving only the profound connection that bound them together.
Within the depths of their gaze lay entire universes, each conveying a myriad of emotions and thoughts that defied comprehension yet resonated deeply within their souls. It was a language of the heart, spoken in the silent symphony of their intertwined gazes, weaving a tapestry of understanding and empathy that surpassed the limitations of verbal communication. In this wordless exchange, they found solace and understanding, a sanctuary where their souls could converge in perfect harmony.
As they stood enveloped in this ineffable connection, it felt as though they were swept away by a force greater than themselves, engulfed in a love that knew no bounds. It was a sensation that consumed them entirely, suffusing every fiber of their being with a sense of completeness and belonging. With a gentle lowering of her gaze and a soft brush of his fingers against her hair, they shared a tender moment of intimacy, each gesture a silent affirmation of their shared bond.
In that fleeting instant, as their worlds collided and merged into one, it felt as though time stood still, allowing them to exist solely in the embrace of each other's presence. It was a moment that transcended the confines of reality, a sacred communion between two souls intertwined in the intricate dance of love and longing. And in the quiet stillness of that moment, amidst the echoes of their shared breaths and the soft caress of the wind, they knew with unwavering certainty that what they had was real, and it was enough.
The young woman, her voice barely above a whisper, breaks the silence with a single word, "Human." Her gaze locks with that of the man opposite her, their eyes briefly connecting in a moment fraught with unspoken meaning.
Kento’s response comes in a contemplative murmur, his mind seemingly wrestling with the weight of her declaration. "Yes... human," he echoes softly, his eyes never leaving hers as they both linger more in the enigma of the other.
The woman's response was gentle, her words carrying a subtle grace as she acknowledged his gratitude. "You have been a gentleman," she murmured, her smile reflecting the warmth in her tone.
He clears his throat, his hands resting at the small of his back. “It was nothing. It is…a gentleman’s duty.”
With a smile and a nod, she continued, "Thank you for your escort, Kento."
Her gratitude held a depth that transcended the simple act of companionship, hinting at a mutual respect and appreciation for the connection they had shared during their time together. Nanami Kento could not help but be warmed inside.
"Will I see you again?" he ventured, his voice tinged with a mixture of longing and apprehension.
Kento's inquiry, delivered with a blend of hope and uncertainty, hung in the air between them, pregnant with the weight of anticipation. “....If you return to the city. Will you come and seek me out again?”
She blinked at him, the drawing sun drawing immortality upon their silhouettes. His question carried with it the unspoken desire for their paths to cross once more, fueled by the fleeting but profound connection they had forged during their time together. She thinks it was her turn now, to feel this warmth.
Their exchange encapsulated a moment of delicate vulnerability, where unspoken emotions lingered beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. As they stood in the quiet aftermath of their parting, the question lingered like a whisper in the air, leaving the possibility of a future encounter suspended in the balance of uncertainty and hope.
Nanami Kento's curiosity about her was insatiable. He longed to delve beyond the surface, to understand the intricate layers of her being. It wasn't just her love of femininity, strength, and wit that captivated him, though those qualities held a magnetic allure. No, he yearned to uncover the depths of her soul, to unravel the mysteries that lay hidden within.
He found himself pondering, contemplating the enigma that was she. And he wanted to know everything. He wanted to unravel her. All for his own. What were her dreams, her fears, her passions? What secrets did her heart hold, and what stories did her eyes long to tell? Each moment spent in her presence only deepened his curiosity, stirring an unquenchable thirst for knowledge.
In her, he saw a world waiting to be explored, a universe of possibilities waiting to be discovered. And so, with each passing encounter, he sought to peel back the layers of her facade, to uncover the true essence of who she was beneath the surface. For he knew that within her lay a treasure trove of untold stories and hidden truths, waiting to be unearthed by the curious soul brave enough to seek them out.
"Who knows, Kento," he heard her say, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. "You may ask the gods. Wish for my presence very well. The gods are merciful to those who they deem worthy."
Before she could continue, she turned to face him again, her expression softening. "About what you said earlier." She smiled gently at him, almost sympathetic. "I don't think you should continue to let yourself suffer this way. The commandment of the holy books can be too much, even for the pious."
He raised a brow, a curious smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "And what say you?"
"I think that you should be able to be your own man, too," she answered, her voice gentle but firm. "You have a right to it. You are only a man, Kento. Be one that lives for yourself too. Not just for others."
"Then I suppose I must work on that then? Being my own independent man?" he mused, a thoughtful expression crossing his features.
"Yes," she nodded at him encouragingly, her eyes shining with sincerity. "Yes, yes you do."
And so she walked away from him, her figure fading into the bustling crowd until she disappeared from his sights.
In that moment, a sense of melancholy washed over him, a feeling of loss at her departure. Yet, amidst the melancholy, a glimmer of hope flickered within him.
Hope that he would see her again, that their paths would cross once more in the winding streets of the city. Hope that the connection they shared would endure beyond this brief encounter.With a wistful sigh, he turned to continue on his own path, carrying with him the memory of her presence and the anticipation of a future meeting.
HE COULD NOT STOP THINKING OF HER. As Nanami Kento returned to the castle later that night, his thoughts were consumed by her, an irresistible force that lingered in the recesses of his mind. The captivating allure of her presence was indelible, leaving an indescribable imprint on his thoughts. She embodied life in its most enchanting form, a woman who compelled him to consider possibilities he had not dared to entertain before. In her existence, he found a paradox, a challenge that both intrigued and unsettled him, becoming an unexpected anathema to his previously defined world.
Every detail of her being held captive in a cascade of enchantment. Her beauty was a symphony of nature's finest elements, a composition that left him spellbound. Her hair, reminiscent of the morning light that kissed the shores and painted the sky, framed her visage in a halo of radiance. Eyes, bright and vibrant like the ever-changing hues of autumn leaves, mirrored the lively spirit of the earth's vast wild plains. Bathed in the moonlight, she seemed to emanate the very essence of life, casting out darkness with the light it needed to thrive.
Her lips, a rich shade of red reminiscent of a precious ruby, were meticulously contoured like a finely crafted sword. Cheeks adorned with the delicate pink of apples in the late echoes of summer, ripened by the passage of time, crushed into a powder that the wind carried, infusing the scarlet wind with vibrant color. Yet, it was her blush, a tender display of vulnerability, that captivated him most profoundly.
Unable to escape the allure of her image, Nanami Kento found himself entangled in the enchanting tapestry of her existence. She became a muse that colored his thoughts, a presence that lingered in the corridors of his mind, leaving an indelible mark that defied both reason and restraint. As he navigated the corridors of the castle, he grappled with the unspoken emotions that blossomed within him, a tumultuous sea of longing, admiration, and a recognition that, against all odds, she had become a singular force that reshaped the contours of his world.
As Nanami Kento raised his goblet to his lips, the rich aroma of the wine enveloped his senses, but it was the scene unfolding around him that truly captivated his attention. The grandeur of the chambers, filled with an abundance of people, seemed to overwhelm him more than the wine itself. Despite the lively atmosphere of the king's party, his mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of her, her image echoing in his thoughts like a haunting melody.
Throughout the evening, he had fulfilled his duties with practiced ease, maintaining a composed facade as he greeted guests and exchanged pleasantries. Yet, beneath the veneer of social niceties, a sense of restlessness gnawed at him, rendering the mundane tasks of courtly life nothing more than background noise.
However, as a familiar face loomed into view, Kento's brow furrowed in a subtle display of displeasure. The sudden interruption disrupted the fragile semblance of calm that he had carefully cultivated, pulling him away from the sanctuary of his thoughts. Though the white noise of the party had momentarily receded, replaced by the distractions of familiar faces and idle chatter, he found himself yearning for the solace of his own thoughts once more.
As he navigated through the sea of faces, exchanging polite greetings and engaging in fleeting conversations, Kento couldn't shake the feeling of detachment that lingered within him. Despite the opulence surrounding him, it was the memory of her that held sway over his mind, casting a shadow over the festivities and leaving him longing for a moment of respite amidst the chaos of the night.
"My lord," Sir Geto Suguru's voice cut through the air, his figure adorned in the regal elegance of fine silk, a cloak trailing behind him as his hand rested on his side. He smiled as a gentleman would. It was clear why he’s the king’s favorite. An intrigued brow arched upward as he addressed Nanami Kento. "You seem to be rather...silent tonight."
Lady Ieiri Shoko, her demeanor playful as she lounged with her pipe, enveloped in wisps of smoke, chimed in with a knowing grin. Nonchalant as always, Kento thinks. But thicker with her bluntness. "My lord does have a lot on his mind, Suguru," she interjected, patting Suguru's shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. "He deals with Satoru enough. Give him the space."
Lady Tsukomo Yuki, her presence commanding as she leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eye, joined the conversation. Her husband, Lord Choso tending to his brother, Kento’s god-son, distracted him. It would make sense why she was a stray in tonight’s gathering.
"Though I must say, my lord," she teased, her arm resting casually upon Suguru's shoulder, "Ser Ino was rather...moody today. Tell me, my lord, with all your honesty, was he jealous? Was he jealous of you meeting a lover?"
Shoko's snort of amusement punctuated the air as she handed her pipe to Suguru, who eagerly indulged in a puff of smoke. "Make sure Satoru doesn’t hear," she quipped, her tone laced with amusement. “He’d find this lover and force our lord here to get hitched!”
Nanami Kento's gaze scanned the bustling chamber, searching for the familiar figure of the king amidst the sea of courtiers and nobles. "Where is the king, anyway?" he inquired, a hint of concern tingling his voice.
Sir Geto Suguru, ever the observant companion, gestured towards a cluster of individuals, his gaze settling on a pair of piercing blue eyes that shone like beacons amidst the throng of guests. "There he is," Suguru remarked with a wry smile, "Set loose upon the courtiers, scaring the old folks who don't want to fund his little projects."
Kento sighed inwardly, a sense of resignation settling over him as he contemplated the inevitable task of mitigating the fallout from the king's impromptu interactions. "I should have suspected as much," he muttered under his breath, mentally preparing himself for the diplomatic challenges that lay ahead.
Satoru Gojo's family background was steeped in tradition, with his father known for his staunch conservative beliefs. However, Satoru himself diverged from his father's ideology, embracing a more progressive mindset that often clashed with the traditional views of the higher-ups in the court. This ideological divide was a source of constant tension and potential conflict, one that Kento Nanami knew he would eventually have to navigate as the king's minister.
As he contemplated the impending conversation that awaited him, Kento felt a familiar ache begin to throb at his temples, a physical manifestation of the weighty responsibilities that came with his position. The intricacies of court politics were a delicate dance, and as the king's trusted advisor, it fell upon him to manage the inevitable fallout from Satoru's divergent beliefs.
Though the prospect of confronting the conservative factions within the court was daunting, Kento understood that it was a conversation that he, as the king's minister, was uniquely positioned to handle. His loyalty to the crown demanded that he navigate the delicate balance between tradition and progress, ensuring that the king's vision for the kingdom remained uncompromised.
As Kento braced himself for the challenges that lay ahead, the weight of his responsibilities pressed down upon him like an oppressive force. The relentless pounding in his head served as a grim reminder of the burdens he bore as the king's minister, a solemn duty that demanded finesse and diplomacy in navigating the complexities of court politics. Yet, as he prepared to confront the ideological divide threatening to tear the court asunder, Kento steeled himself for the difficult conversations that awaited, knowing that the fate of the kingdom hung precariously in the balance.
Amidst the weighty atmosphere, Lady Tsukomo Yuki injected a moment of levity with a playful tease, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "But go on," she urged with a teasing glint in her eyes, "Don’t leave your guests hanging. Satoru’s tomorrow’s business. We are your business right now. Continue with your little story about the eventful stroll, my lord! Give us your romanticism!"
Kento felt his lips retort upward at Yuki's jest, a fleeting smile gracing his lips as he acknowledged the playful banter of his companions. Despite the weight of his responsibilities and the intricacies of courtly politics, there was a certain camaraderie in moments like these, a shared understanding and camaraderie that served as a welcome respite from the rigors of noble life.
And as he prepared to navigate the complexities of the evening's festivities, Kento couldn't help but feel grateful for the companionship of friends who lightened his burdens with their humor and camaraderie. But he knew he would never say that out loud. Not even if Yu would force it out of him. He supposed he was a bit more grateful for that. Haibara Yu was more than he could ever handle. They may have been childhood friends, but there are things Kento keeps to himself.
Kento sighed softly, crossing his arms in a casual display of nonchalance. "It was nothing much, really," he retorts, a hint of sheepishness coloring his tone. "He was merely angry with me for being too kind to the woman.That's all."
Suguru's laughter echoed through the room as he took in Kento's explanation. "A beautiful, kind stranger of a woman?” he exclaimed with mirth. "Love at first sight, perchance?”
With a resigned sigh, Kento met their amused gazes, preparing to divulge the details of his encounter. "She is a merchant's daughter, if I recall correctly," he confessed, knowing that his friends would appreciate the honesty. "It was merely that she was fishing by the lake and managed to hook onto my clothes by accident."
Suguru's laughter continued, the jovial sound filling the room as he teased, "Oh, my lord. I never thought the day would come when the mighty and trusted Lord Nanami Kento would be fished out from the river by a merchant's daughter."
Despite his attempts to downplay the situation, Kento couldn't help but feel a sense of bashfulness at their teasing. "It was only an incident," he insisted, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. Shoko snickers at the sight of him, as much as his response. "She may have fished a lord, but she saw me as a regular man, for which I am thankful."
Yuki nodded in understanding, her voice soft with empathy. "That is the only thing a man ever truly wishes for," she murmured, her gaze meeting Kento's with a shared understanding. "To be seen as nothing more than a man. Like you always wanted, huh?"
Shoko's smirk widened as she teased, "And how beautiful is this merchant's daughter, my lord? She must have been quite a surprise."
Yuki’s short empathy turned into mischief. “Oh, yes! Do continue to tell us about that!”
Suguru intervened with a sigh, handing the pipe back to Shoko. "You ought to stop it before he starts to be irate, Sho," he cautioned, though amusement danced in his eyes.
Kento sighed, feeling the wine loosening his lips as he opened up further. "And she is not just beautiful," he admitted with genuine warmth, a fondness coloring his voice. "She is very smart, lively, and opinionated, I may add."
Shoko's mischievous grin widened even further, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned in closer to Kento, eager to hear more about the intriguing merchant's daughter. "Oh, she sounds absolutely captivating," she remarked with a playful lilt in her voice, unable to contain her curiosity. "I must say, my lord, you seem quite taken with her."
Yuki, sensing Kento's growing warmth and openness, couldn't resist adding to the teasing. "Indeed, it seems you've met your match, my lord," she teased, a playful twinkle in her eye. "A smart, lively, and opinionated woman? She must have left quite an impression on you."
Suguru, ever the voice of reason amidst the playful banter, offered a gentle reminder to temper their teasing. "Let's not push our luck too far, my dearest ladies." he interjected with a soft chuckle, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "We wouldn't want to overwhelm our dear lord with our curiosity."
Despite Suguru's caution, Kento couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the lighthearted distraction his companions provided. "Thank you, Suguru," he acknowledged with a nod, his smile reflecting the genuine warmth he felt towards his friends. "And you're right, she did leave quite an impression on me."
Shoko raised a brow, intrigued. “It must be enough that you would want to see her again.”
"I should hope to see her again.” he admitted, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. It was merely a chance encounter."
Yuki's teasing only fueled the jovial atmosphere, her playful twinkle mirroring the lightness in Kento's heart. "Ah, but my lord," she persisted with a playful glint in her eye, "a chance encounter that leaves such a lasting impression? It sounds like fate may have intervened."
Suguru, ever the voice of reason, interjected with a gentle reminder, his tone laced with amusement. "Let's not delve too deeply into matters of fate, my friends," he cautioned, though there was a fondness in his voice. "After all, we mustn't forget our duties here tonight."
Kento nodded in agreement, acknowledging Suguru's reminder with a grateful smile. "Of course, Suguru," he replied, his tone sincere. "But I appreciate your concern. Rest assured, I will handle matters accordingly."
As the evening progressed and the wine flowed freely, Nanami Kento found himself gradually opening up about his encounter with the merchant's daughter in a way that surprised even himself. Despite his usual composure and ability to handle his liquor with ease, tonight was different. Tonight, there was an energy in the air, a sense of camaraderie and warmth that encouraged him to let down his guard.
With each refill of his cup by attentive servants, Kento felt himself becoming more relaxed, more willing to share the details of his encounter. It was as if the wine acted as a catalyst, loosening his tongue and freeing him from the constraints of propriety.
The gentle prodding and playful banter of his companions only served to fuel his openness, encouraging him to delve deeper into the nuances of his interaction with the merchant's daughter. He found himself recounting the details of their conversation with a newfound enthusiasm, each word tinged with a sense of wonder and excitement.
Despite his initial reservations, Kento couldn't help but revel in the warmth of his companions' company, allowing himself to be swept away by the moment. Tonight, he was not just a noble lord; he was simply a man, sharing tales of love and longing with friends who understood him like no others.
As the night wore on and the wine continued to flow, Kento found himself swept up in the easy camaraderie of his companions. The weight of his responsibilities seemed to melt away with each passing moment, replaced by a sense of lightness and excitement that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was as if tonight held the promise of something extraordinary, a feeling that lingered in the air like the scent of blooming flowers on a warm spring evening.
Suguru's laughter subsided into a knowing smile as he regarded Kento with a twinkle in his eye. "It seems our lord has found himself quite intrigued by this charming young woman," he remarked, his tone laced with amusement.
Shoko leaned forward, her curiosity piqued as she pressed for more details. "Do tell us more about her, my lord," she urged, her expression eager. "What is she like? How did you find her?"
Kento paused, his thoughts drifting back to the lively encounter by the lake. "She is unlike anyone I have ever met," he confessed, a hint of wonder coloring his voice. "Her spirit is as vibrant as the sunlight dancing on the waves, and her wit as sharp as a finely honed blade."
Suguru couldn't help but interject with a teasing remark. "And he had a poet's career in a day's time," he quipped, a playful glint in his eye.
Yuki nodded in agreement, her eyes sparkling with interest. "And what of her opinions?" she inquired, leaning in closer. "Did she challenge your beliefs, my lord?"
A thoughtful expression crossed Kento's features as he recalled their spirited exchange of ideas. "Indeed, she did," he admitted with a chuckle. "She has a way of seeing the world that is both refreshing and enlightening. It was... invigorating, to say the least."
Suguru's gaze softened with understanding as he listened to Kento's words. "It sounds like she left quite an impression on you, my lord," he remarked, his voice tinged with warmth. "Perhaps it is a sign of something more."
Kento's heart skipped a beat at Suguru's words, a rush of emotions stirring within him. Could it be possible that this chance encounter held the promise of something greater? He pushed aside his doubts, allowing himself to entertain the tantalizing possibility. Tonight, amidst the laughter and conversation of his friends, Kento dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, there was something extraordinary waiting on the horizon.
As Kento mulled over Suguru's words, a surge of anticipation coursed through him, igniting a spark of hope within his chest. The possibility of something more with the merchant's daughter danced tantalizingly at the edge of his thoughts, like a distant melody beckoning him forward into the unknown.
With a renewed sense of determination, Kento turned his attention back to his companions, a bright glimmer of excitement shining in his eyes. "Perhaps you're right, Suguru," he admitted, his voice filled with a newfound optimism. "Perhaps there is more to this encounter than meets the eye."
Shoko's eyes widened with curiosity as she leaned in closer, eager to hear more. "Do tell us, my lord minister," she urged, her tone tinged with excitement. "What do you plan to do next?"
Kento's mind raced with possibilities as he considered his next steps. "I suppose only time will tell," he replied with a thoughtful smile. "But for now, I intend to explore this newfound connection and see where it leads."
Suguru nodded in approval, a supportive smile gracing his lips. "A wise decision, my lord," he remarked, his tone filled with encouragement. "Follow your heart, and trust in the path that unfolds before you."
Yuki's eyes sparkled with anticipation as she chimed in, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "Yes, my lord, embrace this opportunity and seize the moment!" she exclaimed, her excitement contagious.
As the night continued to unfold, Kento felt a sense of purpose and excitement bubbling within him, fueled by the support and encouragement of his companions. With their unwavering support behind him, he felt ready to embark on this new journey, eager to discover what the future held in store. And as he laughed and talked with his friends late into the night, a sense of anticipation and possibility filled the air, setting the stage for the beginning of something truly extraordinary.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#nanami kento#kento nanami#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento fluff#kento nanami x y/n#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#kento x reader#jjk kento#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami fluff#suguru geto#geto suguru#takuma ino#ino takuma#shoko ieiri
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TGGTVAV x TGS AU!
Ok so Sage has always been talking about The Gentleman’s guide to Vice and Virtue and I finally got around to reading it and to say the least… I LOVED IT, every part of it! Whilst reading this fantastical tale, I just COULD NOT stop thinking of the Jekyon parallels to Monty and Percy… Just AGRGHHH they are all such big, lovable, queer Victorian idiots! Anyway If you couldn’t tell by the title of this post, I slam-dunked that book into my favorites pile and hastily made another AU. (also,,, SPOILERS! I am warning you. But what are you doing? Go read this book already!)
In short I’ve basically taken The Characters from TGS and dumped them into the storyline/plot of TGGTVAV, In saying that neither Jekyll or Lanyon are strictly Percy or Monty, if that makes sense? I contemplated this over and over and I just couldn’t cram Jekyll or Lanyon’s characters into Monty or Percy’s. as an example; Lanyon’s personality is a lot more similar to Monty’s than Percy but Lanyon isn’t bisexual (a big aspect of Monty’s character) Yet at the same time both Lanyon and Percy play the Violin, both have dreamy freckles etc. But he just doesn’t fit into either of them, same goes with Jekyll; Jekyll and Monty both share similarities but are both very different, yet not different enough to take the role of Percy. So with all of that confusing explanation, Jekyll and Lanyon remain themselves with a few extra ~touches~:
Jekyll is going to be sent to the mental asylum in Holland due to the existence of Hyde. Lanyon finds out about Hyde when he involuntarily transforms in Marseilles.
Lanyon still plays the Violin and brings it on the Tour with him (for the reasons of plot accuracy and me pushing the Violin-Lanyon propaganda)
Lanyon takes Monty’s position of power (as in his father is an Earl, and sends them on Tour) although Lanyon is rich, racism still very much exists and isn’t a terminated theme.
Before I continue and as a side note: Felicity Does not exist. As much as I wanted to work her into this, I just couldn’t without complicating a bunch of things, and as I said this is an Au, my au and I can do what I want - I do love Felicity but She just wasn’t going to work here.
Frankenstein (still a woman) takes the role of Mateu Robles because I thought it would be fun to play on the idea that Frankenstien created life and that Mateu’s panacea can heal people. After researching and experimenting, Frankestein tried the potion on Elizabeth but it stopped her heart, similar to how Frankenstein's original creation (the creature) ended up killing her love. I thought it would be interesting, that because Frankenstein kind of killed her wife, she created Helena and Dante the same way she made the creature, although they technically aren’t human, Helena and Dante still look and act like humans, and they believe Elizabeth equally as their mother as they do with Frankenstein. (Don’t ask me how a WLW relationship would work in the 1800’s ,,, everyone just thinks that Frankie is a guy {kind of like in TGS} )
Queen Lucy is Scipio because a.) We need more female badasses and b.) take ONE LOOK at her character design and Tell me she DOESN’T Look like a pirate queen- I also just think Lucy is a super fun character that I wanted to incorporate here.
Those are about all the added things/changes - the rest basically just follows the same points of the plot :0
If I’m completely honest, I probably won’t do much with this I just had an idea and wanted to share it :))
Here’s a little image of them - Also I gave them both slightly longer hair because I looked at fanart of Percy and fell in love.
#tgs#the glass scientists#echo's au's#the gentleman's guide to vice and virtue#tggtvav#the glass scientists au
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so remember when i made that post about combining trolls and one of my other faveriot movies!, so iv been brainstorming on how to combine trolls and corpse bride into an au!
so i came up with the CORPSE BROPPY AU
not everything will be the same, infact there's a lot of changes, so its more or so the concept of corpse bride that I'm combining with trolls, I have two of the character designs down!
so I will share parts of their story first, then show their image, ITS POPPY AND BRANCH! obviously lol
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So, the story kicks off with a bit of a family crisis. Poppy's older sister, Viva, has mysteriously disappeared(i can explain more on that later you you want), throwing a wrench into their family plans. With Viva gone, Poppy finds herself in the hot seat, forced into an arranged marriage with a troll named Creek(YOU KNOW THE ONE AND ONLY TRAITOR) from another family. This arrangement is all about sealing deals and uniting families, but there's a catch: Poppy and Creek have to get their wedding act together in just a month. And let's just say, rehearsals are a disaster. Poppy's heart just isn't in it because, well, she doesn't love Creek. It’s like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.
as you can see, poppy takes a place of victor, sorta
i really loved looking at diffrent dresses from the 1800's to design her outfit, the before is her for most of the story, her casual outfit, i kept it blue since most of poppys canon outfits are, her after outfit is more towards the end of the story.
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Imagine being insanely talented, like a piano prodigy level of talented, but instead of your gift bringing you joy, it becomes this heavy chain your family drags you around with. That's Branch's life in a nutshell. His gift at the piano wasn't celebrated in the way it should have been; it was exploited. Instead of applause filled with warmth, every clap was just a reminder of how his family saw dollar signs in his melodies. Talk about a tough crowd.
But wait, it gets more complicated. Branch's family, not satisfied with just exploiting his talent, decided to marry him off in a deal that reeked of greed. Love? Compatibility? Nope, those words weren't in their vocabulary. It was all about the money. And the person he was supposed to marry? Let's just say she took 'till death do us part' way too literally and left Branch for dead—literally. The twist? She never got caught. So there's Branch, a victim of greed and betrayal, stuck in the afterlife with a heart heavier than any piano he ever played.
This is where Branch's story gets really interesting. As the Corpse Groom, he's not just dealing with being, well, dead. He's tangled up in all the dreams and desires he never got to live out. We're talking about a guy who was robbed of the chance to find real love, to maybe play his music because it brought him joy, not because it paid the bills. His unfinished business? It's not just about finding out who killed him; it's about seeking the life and love he was denied.
as you can see, branch is in the place of emily, I decided to make his outfit more green like his vest in the movie( I imagine that the shirt is a hand me down from floyd)
corpse branch was so fun to draw to be honest, he also has a lot more story developed but that's because I'm a bit biased,woops.
FEEL FREE TO ASK ANY QUESTIONS BECAUSE I WILL BE GLAD TO ANSWER THEM.
#dreamworks trolls#trolls#trolls x reader#trolls poppy#branch x poppy#trolls world tour#trolls fanart#brozone#trolls movie#trolls au#corpse bride#corpse husband#au idea#infection au#trolls infection au#fanart#alternate universe#crossover#oc#comic#tim burton#corpse bride emily#corpse bride au#corpse bride victor#corpse bride victoria#trolls creek#trolls crimp#trolls crossover#trolls art#trolls clay x reader
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father neptune (pt.4)
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader
sea-monster hunter au!
description: After months of mulling over his confession to you in his head, Ghost finally is able to slip into your cottage and unravel his feelings. Lots of fluff
warnings: strong horror elements, early 1800′s dating,
word count: 3.5k
masterlist | Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3 | Pt.4
It was rare for Ghost to become flustered, it was something he had managed to restrain as his youth slipped away. As he grew older- and as the allure of beautiful women wore off- he resided to himself in solitude, fully accepting the reality of men of his profession. Men of the sea were notorious for being scum to the women whose beds they crawled into. That widespread belief rendered his options for partners increasingly limited- regardless of if marriage was something he was keen on.
He was sure at some point in history a sailor of his stature would have been a charm to the women in London, but not now. No, men like him weren't the sort women would resign themselves to marry; a woman wouldn't be satisfied with waiting on the shores for the likes of him- that he was sure. He could provide little outside of hoarded wealth, affection or love didn't come naturally to Simon. He had long passed the ability to feel shame for how beautiful he found her and was rather relieved when she found his incessant staring cute, not horrifically unsettling.
It had long since grown dark, she had allowed him to sit on her couch where they spoke for hours; he had told tales of some of the best battles of his youth, watching her eyes crinkle at the corners when she laughed. In return, she recounted times from her childhood of monster carcasses washing ashore, or her swinging on giant, bleached bones that were sticking out of the sand and rock. The topic of conversation seemed to avoid her actions on the beach altogether, neither of the pair wanting to spoil the comfortable atmosphere that had grown.
"Did yah grow up on the island?" He leaned back into the couch, trying his best to keep his eyes from falling over your form in less than respectful ways. You seemed like a modest woman, one dressed properly with hair drawn back neatly, even if in an outdated style from what he was used to seeing of women back home. You wore a plain blue dress, no ribbons or ruffles, with a white collar that sat strung around your neck.
He watches you mull over the question. You flatten the dress fabric in your lap before shaking your head and mouthing a silent 'no'.
"If I'm being honest, I don't remember much of anything at all. I have bits and pieces, things I can't make sense of as to why I remember them..." There was a pause before she began again, clearly trying her best to mull over the fragments and piece them together.
"I can't tell you if my father was tall or short, or what the colour of my mother's hair was- but I remember being in the streets of Dublin when a newsboy announced George Washinton had died. I remember a British soldier pushing me over when I was only four or so- I remember living in lots of different places but I only remember ever living here. In this house."
Simon nodded, his lips growing into a tight frown under his mask.
"How long have yah been here alone, love?" The nickname seemed natural in this setting, pet names had always been something he had to force out of himself- not for her, the way her eyes would light up made it worth it.
"A while." She shrugs, once again she flattens her dress, fingers fighting with the soft fabric.
"Bet yah don't even have a bathroom inside all the way out here." Simon hums, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was undoubtedly a luxury, one new and rather expensive. It was something that could only be experienced on the mainland, and he silently added it to the growing number of reasons why she would be far better off there with him.
She giggles and shakes her head. "I have a barrel that I put boiled water in, that's my indoor plumbing."
"Horrific. Can't imagine livin' in these conditions" Simon replies, allowing a soft chuckle of his own to slip out.
"Oh!- I'm sure boat life is just so much better. I certainly envy the months out in the open ocean covered in your own sweat and surrounded by rats." She leaned closer to him, a large smirk growing across her face.
"S' not as bad as you'd think. You should smell her' when somethings been rotting in her' hull for a week. None of the boys come close." Simon shrugs and stretches his arm across the back of the couch, a now large grin settling over him as he watches your face contort into disgust.
"That's shocking!" She softly pushed his chest and laughed, moving just a little bit closer to him. The action was small, something she most likely hadn't even put thought into- yet it sent his body haywire.
Admittedly Simon had always been the best at this part, the enisle flirting was something he had mastered in his 20's, anything past that point, though, was almost entirely new. He had been in relationships, sure, yet none that he was particularly invested in, he had never been the pursuer of commitment- yet now he had to be. It wasn't uncommon for men in this day and age- especially of his age- to propose at least a relationship rather quickly after meeting a woman they liked. He had strong doubts any other man on the island was interested in a betrothal with her- yet the urgency remained.
Marriage culture in London was something he had avoided like the plague, it being a dance of image and reputation that he had no interest in. Men and women were to marry young, have children young, and die young, yet the pair of them sat childless, single, old and alive. You looked to be older than 25,- yet certainly not older than 30- and for a woman as stunning as he had found you, it was beyond a surprise that no man had ever proposed to you at all.
Simon had accepted the reality of him begin marriageless as the rest of his crew had, yet that had never meant he wasn't lonely. For years he's laid alone in his cold cot in Manchester, thinking intently about what he could have done differently, how he could have prevented being alone. He had craved the company of a woman for far too long, he had pushed it down so far it had become insistently painful- unignorable.
Something about you had rattled something inside him loose; you had breathed the ability to love and be loved into him.
He was rather alluring himself, especially to a woman who had been on her own for quite some time. His dusty blond hair had been cut short along the sides, leaving long bits up top that stuck out messily. His features were sharp, strikingly so, having thick eyebrows with a deep scar slashed through one and piercing blue eyes. The bit of fabric covering the bottom half of his face was most certainly hiding a stubble-covered jaw.
"What happened here?" You pointed politely to your own eyebrow, eyes soft with concern that makes his heart flutter.
Simon's hand instinctively moves to the scar. He had gained so many over the years that he had stopped taking stock of where they were- or what they were from for that matter.
"Ah- got it when I was 18." He grumbled, the memory still causing a hot pain to strike across his face.
"Was on my first real hunting ship- most of the other lads were young too, one of em' did something stupid and let a rope snap while we were hauling something in. Whipped me right across the face. 'Suprised I didn't get a scar 'long the whole left side." He watches her eyes flicker with empathy, somehow becoming even warmer as the story ends.
"I'm sorry." She mutters, for a moment Simon stills, unsure of how to respond.
"You don't have to apologize to me, love. You didn't do it." He shakes his head, moving his arm slightly to tug you closer to his side.
"Why do you cover your face?" You ask, another question with only pure intention, yet it still tugged at Simon uncomfortably.
"'Prefer it this way, it stays on, love."
"Are you hiding something?" Your head tilts to the side.
"Just my face." He shrugs.
"Are you ugly?"
The question had been asked so many times his response was nearly automated at this point.
"Quite the opposite."
A large smile crosses her face, it was something she clearly already knew.
Desperately did he want you to lead him upstairs, to offer him to lay in your bed while he sleeps against your chest, or for you to run your fingers along his scalp and down his sore back. Everything about you was sweet, the way you did your hair, your soft tone, and your cries in the night, all grew overwhelmingly endearing with little effort on your part.
Simon Riley had never been 'whipped' in his life, no woman had ever reduced him to that level, but sitting in front of you, he was whipped. He had accepted that truth during the endless nights he spent tossing and turning, dreaming of you. He had wondered if maybe you had dreamt of him as well, perhaps he haunted your dreams, perhaps that was the reason for the heavy bags under your eyes, your endless crying at night.
"Why do you haunt the beach?" Regardless of him now knowing for certain she was a human woman, he still considered her a ghost, one like him, one whose private haunt he was encroaching on.
She sucks a breath in sharply, the sudden question catching her off guard.
"Why?" She repeats. The question lingers over you as you try to come up with an answer. There had never been a particular reason as to why, you had simply just done it, allowing your grief to wash away into the ocean.
"It feels good." You shrugged, the answer seemingly embarrassing you.
"It feels good to scream out to the ocean, she listens to me... Just listens. Not many will do that- listen to the sorrow-filled wailings of a woman running up and down the shoreline like a banshee."
"I listened." Simon could help but let it slip out. He had listened, he had listened intently, he tried to place her pain, and in his dreams, he would bet to take it from her- for her to give all of her sufferings to him, he would handle it all for her. Too many nights he clung to her in his dreams, too many nights he spent clinging to her, desperate to keep his head above water; no longer for himself, but to see her.
Your face grew a deep shade of red and your lips tightened into a deep frown. "You listened and then followed and then I shoved over your friend- stole your things!" You exclaimed. "I have no idea why you would have any interest in listening to my hysterics."
"Hysterics? You believe your feeling this way is all hysterics?" The disappointment in his voice was evident, something he was always unable to mask.
"Well..." You averted your eyes from him, moving them instead down into your lap as you straightened your posture away from him.
Suddenly he takes your hands in his, an action clearly neither had expected from him. He softly squeezes them before speaking.
"I'll listen. I'll listen if you'd let me- if you'd let me I'd take all of this from you, all your grief would be mine if it meant you'd be alright." He managed to force the words out, it was imperfect and certainly not the confession he had rehearsed on the way over. Her eyes dart back up to his face, her eyes widen as she studies him intently. After a moment of painful silence, she speaks, her voice small and unsure.
"You don't know me- you know nothing of me at all."
Pain tinges his heart at the comment, it was fair and he knew it. Sure, perhaps he knew her better than she knew him, surly her dreams weren't of the pair of them speaking for hours, living domestic lives together like his were; yet the comment still caused discomfort- distress even.
"I do know you, my love." His voice grows uneven, the desperation he's managed to keep at bay beginning to slip out as her eyes lock with his.
"I dream of you every night- When I look at the glow of the moon I think 'there, that was made for her.' Whenever I see the tide roll in I swear I think only of you. I'll see happy couples walking down the streets and wish desperately for it to be us- I've loved you in every life I've lived, surely that must be true with the amount of love I feel burning for you." Simon's voice shakes, each word said with full, honest intent yet still tinged with the self-restraint he's so accustomed to exercising.
"I know you." He asserts, squeezing your hands between his.
His pale face had long faded into a shade of bright red, his eyes flick frantically between studying your face for a negative reaction and anywhere else in the room.
"You're mad." You mutter as a rather dopy smile plasters your flushed face.
"Mad?" Simon exclaims confusion painting his voice. After the hardest confession of his life, after possibly one of the hardest things he's ever done, she's called him mad.
It took only a second more before your arms had wrapped around his neck and you pulled yourself into him. It takes an awkward moment for you to find his lips overtop the fabric mask instead of roughly kissing his jaw or cheek. Regardless of the fabric barrier, Simon moves his lips against yours, wishing desperately that the room were dark enough for him to rip it off.
His hands move down to your waist, he softly pulls your hips into his and settles your weight on top of him. His arms snake fully around you, locking you to him as you had done in the reverse. You pull away to take a breath, softly pushing against him to give yourself leverage over his hulking body. He brings his finger up to your face to softly brush away a strand of hair.
The novelty of kissing with the mask had worn off quickly, it becoming far more of a nuisance than a form of comfort for him at the moment. It was rather obvious that you felt the same, finding it rather annoying that he wouldn't move it. Not yet, but as the moments with you dragged on Simon began to reconsider.
"This is mad." You mutter, staring down at his covered face; even with the mask, you could see crimson sneaking up his cheekbones. His eyes were blown- wide and entirely focused on tracking your face- and his hair had somehow managed to grow more out of place than before. Simon doesn't respond, it crosses your mind he may be entirely focused on you- and he hadn't even heard what you had said at all.
He watches you in return, he watches your face fall from a satisfied smile down to one of guilt.
"And rather.. informal." You cover your mouth with your hand, silently wishing you yourself were wearing a mask to hide your embarrassment.
While you don't remember quite where you picked up your ideas around courting but you did know that you were taught that there was a proper and improper way of courting a man. It was quite different in England, many of their women only get married when they fall pregnant- however, there were things that had to be done before your and Simon's relationship could go any further.
"We aren't courting and I've kissed you! I'm so sorry, Simon. I-" As you begin to move off of him his hands move to grip your waist more firmly before rolling fully onto his back, allowing you to straddle him comfortably.
"Enough." He says firmly, your mouth snaps shut immediately at the command. He had certainly had some experience in barking orders.
"Courting? That's what you want, yeah? Does that mean I can't touch yah yet?- You don't want me to?" He struggles to form a sentence that feels comfortable, every word feeling clunky to him. Intimacy and affection on a deeper level were something Simon doubts he's ever expressed. Sure, he had tender moments with his mother- but those were few and far in between thanks to his father. Above all else, he wanted you to be comfortable, to love him back, so he would take extra care in every action.
Normally in courtships, those involved don't kiss, nor do they straddle one another- but this felt natural, not undignified or shameful like you had imagined breaking these sorts of social customs would feel.
"Well... I'm not too sure about that. I do want you to." You muttered, you understand courting, or dating for that matter was a custom in place to prevent people from marrying too quickly- yet intimacy can only happen within it so people tend to rush.
Simon's eyes crinkle from his grin, he moves his eyes down your form and adjusts your dress fabric to drape over him more neatly.
"You want me to what, sweetheart?" The teasing tone in his voice sends shivers up your spine.
"Oh stop!" A wide, flustered grin grows on your face as Simon chuckles deeply; he glides his hands gently up and down your waist and thighs.
"I'll come back 'round again in the mornin', have the kettle on for me." He hums, this accent seemingly getting thicker the quieter he speaks. "We'll start courting, hm?"
You smile, your stomach fluttering at the notion before the rest of his sentence settles in.
"You're leaving?"
He nods reluctantly, as if you even asking had made him reconsider. "Gotta get back before the lads come lookin' for a corpse."
"They still think I'm a monster?" You can't help but allow a soft giggle to slip past your lips.
"Gaz wouldn't even leave the boat- poor lad." Simon lets out a hardy chuckle, clearly feeling far less bad for Gaz than he was letting on.
"You must have a thing for monsters then- I'm sure of it. No sane man would see a woman crying hysterically on the beach and think 'ah yes, that one'." Your grin doesn't let up, and neither does his.
"Again with the hysterics." He shakes his head.
"Obviously I'm the most stable woman out there- couldn't find one who copes with minor inconveniences better." You say sarcastically. Simon huffs out a chuckle and nods, he's perfectly away of how odd his attraction appears, but he's always had an affinity for the uncanny or unwanted. Not that you were either of those things, he didn't find you unsettling in the slightest, perhaps that was part of the problem.
Reluctantly you two begin to pry away from each other's warmth, both moving to stand.
"So stable you use a harpoon as a mantle decoration?" Simon's eyes finally lock on the pointed metal rod- he would have missed it entirely if his eyes hadn't caught the ship's name carved into the grip. Quickly you go to grab it down to hand to him but Simon stops you and shakes his head.
"You can have it, darling. Soap isn't going to miss it."
"That's the one with the... with the hair?" You gesture out his haircut as best you can, you had seen many sailors with many odd style choices, but that one you had only seen on him.
Simon nods, "How'd you know his name?"
"Everyone on the island knows all of your names."
"Word gets 'round about us?" You could nearly hear the smirk in his voice.
"You guys all yell a lot." You grin widely as Simon rolls his eyes and scoffs.
You and Simon begin to exit the living room, you watch him dunk under the short doorframe before settling in the front room. He goes to grab for his coat but is stopped by you ducking under his arm and pressing your back against the door.
"Let me." You grab the heavy black coat off the door rack and hold it open for him, it takes a second for Simon to understand what you're doing but he turns around and places his arms into the jacket. It was a small action, something typical for women to help men with, but it felt different coming from her. You two switch places as you open the front door, and a rush of cold, salty evening air burst into the small room.
"It's an awfully dark walk to the dock... take my lamp, dear." You lean your frame out the door and point to a small table, atop it sat your good lantern. Picking it up he could tell it would have more than enough oil for the evening, he imagines you were planning on taking a walk tonight, one he had probably prevented you from taking.
"Thank you. For the tea- and this evening." Simon says and nods to you politely.
"Thank you for visiting me- and for asking me to court you." You can't help but shutter under his intense gaze, how desperately the pair of you wished he didn't have to go- but he did.
"Goodnight, Simon."
"Goodnight, love." He flicks on the lantern and turns from you.
You watched Simon walk all the way down to your garden gate before closing the door, then moving to watch him from the window. You watch him stop and turn back once, then again after taking a few more steps forward, then again, before he disappears fully over a small hill.
You imagine he'll be here painfully early in the morning.
taglist: @blueoorchid @@hoe4myers @yjhariani @lexi-zsy09 @galaxieshearme @tumblinginoz @icepancakes @iluvweasleys @crunchlite
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x reader#cod x reader#CoD MW2 AU#mw2 x reader#mw2 fanfic#x my posts#x codmw2 ff#x father neptune
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Changing Minds - Part 3
Summary: Your long time work acquaintance Nick Fowler offers to take you to a fancy fundraiser as a way of cheering you up. He insists it's only as friends but when he sees you falling into the grasp of someone he knows is no good, he might change his mind on that.
Word Count: ~1800
Warnings: Implied violence and attempted murder. Please let me know if I missed any.
A/N: Reader is an older female (late 30's +). This is part of the Garbage Men AU. I'm not yet sure if this will be a full series or just a two part story.
Part 2 -- Part 4
Series Masterlist
You’re getting ready to take your lunch break but are stopped by a grumpy looking man carrying a manilla envelope.
“Are you Ms. Y/L/N?”
“I am,” you hesitate, trying not to look too long at his scars.
“I was told to deliver this to you, tell you it’s from a friend and that your safety depends on you reading it before you see Mr. Fowler again.” He holds out the envelope and, despite the confusion written all over your face, he doesn’t add any clarifying statements. The way his mustache twitches he clearly thinks you’re wasting his time by not taking it from him right away.
“Thank you, Mr….” your tone turns into a question as you take the envelope but he turns away without giving you any answers.
You sit back at your desk and open the envelope. Inside are all sorts of police reports, all violent crimes, and all involving Nick. You recognize the forms and the seals to know these are legitimate. You see his mugshots where he’s clearly been in a fight. You see photos of the people who lost those fights and shudder.
You’d seen Nick with some mild injuries, the occasional black eye, but you never figured him to be violent. He’d always seem too calm, cool and collected to hit someone. Yet the files in front of you begged to differ.
And you’re supposed to go out on a date with him tonight.
As you're getting the manilla folder, Nick is cleaning himself up after another messy interrogation. He probably shouldn’t be doing this so soon before a date but Bucky’s been pushing for some intel and this was his best chance. It’s not like he was all that serious about the date, anyways. It was just fulfilling a promise to you and keeping that work relationship solid with the added bonus of keeping you away from Kent.
Curtis showed up at the Basement Studio with his cleaning equipment. Nick thought for a moment and asked, “Hey, Curtis, you got a minute?”
“Whatcha need?”
“I’m taking a lady out tonight. You got any special restaurants you take Teach?”
Curtis softens at the mention of his girl, “I’m not sure the restaurants we frequent would be up to your standards. We’re more into greasy spoon types of places.”
“Yeah, this girl is a bit classier than that.”
“How about Wilson’s new restaurant? Use your connections to get a table?”
“That could work,” Nick hums. “Give her a nice night at an exclusive place.”
“Hope it works out. It must be pretty serious if you’re asking me for advice.”
“Nah,” Nick dismisses with a wave of his hand. “Just promised to help cheer her up after some family shit happened. I need her happy so I can keep doing my job.”
“Does she know it’s just the one date? That it’s not feelings based?”
“Pretty sure.”
“You’re gonna wanna double check that,” Curtis chides. “I’d hate to have to send Teach after you.”
Nick chuckled a little, “I’ll make sure she knows before the date starts.”
Curtis nods, “good luck, then.”
It’s time to clock out of work and go meet Nick but you find yourself hesitating. Stalling, you child yourself. You’ve known him long enough he at least deserved a chance to explain everything. If someone was trying to make you rethink your relationship with Nick, they were going to have put in more work.
Stepping outside you see Nick’s car and you start walking towards it. He gets out and moves to open the passenger door for you, a smile on his face.
“Hello, pretty Lady,” he greets. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t be able to make it.” His smile drops when he sees hesitance written all over your face. “What’s wrong?”
You shake your head, “in the car, please.” As you sit he closes the door for you and paces to his own. When you’re both settled in you pull the manilla envelope out of your bag and hand it to him. “What is all of this, Nick?”
He opens the envelope and you see his face go from worried to ice cold anger. “How did you get these?”
“They were delivered to my desk this afternoon.”
“By whom?”
“Does it matter? Is your answer going to be different depending on who delivered them? I deserve an explanation regardless of their source.”
Nick takes a deep breath, eyes never leaving the reports in front of him. His brain kept trying to work out why someone would give you this. Well, reasons beyond souring your work relationship and hindering his own work as a result. He was so focused on the considerations and possibilities he didn’t hear you calling his name. It wasn’t until he heard your door slam shut that he snapped out of his reverie and realized he’d accidentally ignored you.
“Shit,” he mutters as he gets out of the car to follow you. “Y/N! Y/N, wait up, please!”
You pause your steps and turn to give him a stern look. “Oh, you’re finally willing to talk about this. How gracious of you.” He flinches at your tone and drops his face a little. “I’m going home, Nick. Good night.”
“Please,” he sighs. “I was caught off guard. I’ll give you all of the answers over dinner, I promise.” You hesitate so he adds, “at the very least I can promise you a free meal at a very exclusive but very good restaurant that just opened.” You raise an eyebrow. Encouraged, he continues, “and if I haven’t answered your questions to your satisfaction, you’ll never have to see me again.”
You nod, “okay. But this had better be a good explanation and some damn good food.”
As Nick promised, the restaurant looks very nice and the smells from the kitchen are exquisite. The hostess takes you to one of the semi-private booths, blocked off with curtains. You’ve never been in such a high-class place and you feel a little under-dressed. Your eyes widen when you look at the prices on the menu.
“Nick, I can’t afford this place.”
“You’re here at my request,” he chuckles. “The least I can do is pay for your food and drink.” He looks into your eyes and sees your discomfort. “I mean that,” he pleads, his sky blue eyes softening. “Please don’t worry about the costs. I’ve got you covered.” You purse your lips but nod.
The waiter arrives for drink orders and you just ask for water. Nick gives you a look and you tell him you don’t know enough about wine to really know what to pick. He nods and orders water and a bottle of something with a way too long name.
As they leave you look back to the menu and confess, “I’m really not sure what half of these things are.”
“I’m pretty experienced with these kinds of things,” Nick assures. “If something sounds interesting let me know and I’ll see if I can remember what it is.”
You nod and start saying some of the names of dishes with Nick telling you some of the basics of ingredients and cooking methods for each. His knowledge of these things is quite impressive. When the waiter comes back with the drinks you order a Thai Pomelo Salad and Seared Tuna Niçoise. You hope it’s good. You’re upset with Nick but would hate to waste his money on food you don’t actually like.
As soon as the waiter leaves you sigh, sit up straight, and ask Nick, “so what do you have to say about those files?”
He nods, “I’m not gonna deny their legitimacy. I’ve done some bad things, had bad things done to me. It’s all part of my work.”
“I thought you were just a Private Investigator.”
“Yup,” Nick nods. “And it’s not all searching records and archives. It’s nice when that’s all I need to do for a job, but most jobs require talking to dangerous people. Sometimes it escalates.”
“Nick, I saw the photos of your victims,” you chide. “That’s not dangerous, that’s deadly.”
“That’s training,” he objects. His face is pained as he continues, “what the files don’t tell you is that I’m former CIA. And yes, I can provide proof of that. I had to learn a lot of combat, a lot of tactics, and a lot of…other things. I quit when I got figuratively backstabbed too many times by other agents looking to just climb the ladder. But you can’t just forget your training.” He pours himself a glass of the red wine and sips it before continuing. “Eddie hooked me up. He was a friend from college and he helped me find my steading here. Introduced me to the right people, warned me against the wrong people, and a lot more.”
You nod as you listen, expression softening as he talks about Eddie. “So all of those people that you hurt?”
“In every case they tried to hurt me first. Even if witnesses were paid to testify otherwise. I never strike first, I promise.” There’s an intensity in his face you’ve never seen before. His eyes almost seem to be changing shades of blue as a reflection of his emotions.
You bite your lower lip as you think. “Okay Nick,” you say after a bit. “I’ll trust you.”
The worry and hurt in his face fades to a soft smile of relief, “thank you. Now will you please tell me who gave you the files?”
Nick gets back to his car after walking you to your door. You might not have known the identity of the man who gave you the folder but what you did know was enough for Nick. August Walker, known lackey in Kent’s conglomerate. He used to be higher in the rankings but got caught trying to kidnap some important person’s daughter. Cost him is rank and his looks.
Kent wants to turn you against him. Nick knows he’s been a thorn in Kent’s side for years but now you’re a risk. You’re a possible weak point in Nick’s armor and Kent’s not gonna stop until he breaks you, hurting Nick in the process.
Nick was supposed to make sure you knew that this was just a date as friends. That he was just keeping his promise, nothing more between you two. But during dinner he decided he needs to keep up the facade of interest. The closer he can keep you, the safer you’ll be. Especially after he gets you a bracelet with a tracker, just to be safe.
Part 2 -- Part 4
Series Masterlist
Tags:
@alicedopey
@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory
@rebekahdawkins
@texmexdarling
If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know.
#nick fowler x reader#mafia!nick fowler x reader#dark!clark kent#mob au#nick fowler#mob!nick fowler#nick fowler x female reader
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You know I hate to ask cause I know it will only hurt me but...how long are you envisioning Elvis living in each story? Captain? Sarge? Big Daddy? I know he is getting happier endings but I'm concerned about the end cause sadly that's the way his story is.
Also I want Gigi to devour Big Daddy and make him so love struck he can't stand it. 😍
I AM SO GLAD SOMEONE ASKED.
First off let me say even for fics where it’s either never mentioned or has yet to be established, they’re all true fix its, ok? So, don’t sweat either way.
But more specifically let’s just gab about the AU’s as I’ve figured them out so far.
A Whole Man -the most concerning perhaps? but at the same time it’s set in his life around the real time of ‘69-70 so, healthwise he’s not awful but I’ve given him shit 1800’s issues and a hell of a lot of work, so, bad news. Also a criminal record with a hanging offense. Oops. But, I have this one universe entirely planned and let me tell you the whole story only spans a whole year at most. And then if y’all like, I’ll keep writing either one shots of the future (that suggests he lives, eh?) or flashbacks digging deeper into any back stories yall want explored.
Sarge: I refuse to date when Elvis or Elaine pass away in this one, I can’t emotionally take it and I want them going out together. He nearly dies many times through the 70’s, that stays in the story but he makes a recovery due to many circumstances jolting the man -Angel of a wife or eight kids aside, only Elvis can save Elvis. The more I plan the second generation and grandbabies the more I find myself assuming he’s there for events in the late 90’s at least. Which surprises me, as I still see him as destined to be die young no matter what. But it seems I’m to softhearted for it. Sixty something is still young, I suppose…😣
Gigi: undecided but we shall be buying far far far more time, and when he’s gone? There’s a sensitive young man named Austin who comes knocking on Graceland’s door to see the home of the man he is about to portray and ask his younger widow about him. Is it possible for two people to love a man together who’s been gone for little while now? They don’t know, but they manage it all the same, and somehow, it’s a little less lonely together…
I really love these types of questions, sometimes I’m more than happy to explain my vision I just don’t wanna spoil unless y’all ask. 💋
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honestly i am not a fan of how this drawing turned out BUT i did invest some time into it so i would be amiss not to post it for posterity if nothing else.
context:
so, i spent a long time ruminating on what to do with the league of assassins in my au. obviously, a lot of the canon material concerning it is staggeringly racist, not to mention just kind of stupid overall, so i knew that i wanted most of it to go out the window off the bat. at the same time there were certain aspects of it that i knew i wanted to retain - the immortality, the lazarus pits, talia's original antihero stuff, damian being a weird little knife child, etc - so eventually i decided that the "league of assassins" as it were doesn't really exist; ra's has simply operated im plain view for long enough that people who were paying enough attention went "hey, what the hell, he has a guy lined up for everything, surely he's running some kind of secret evil shadow organization?" he's not. he's really not. he's just been alive long enough that he has a lot of personal favors owed to him at this point. his actual "organization" is like, at maximum three people who owe him life debts at any given time. he's also not really evil per say. he's just really weird.
what ra's is actually doing (amidst some good old garden variety ecoterrorism - if ivy can do it so can he, and it was a core aspect of his motivation for several decades) is acting upon the pathological obsession he has with the lazarus pits. the lazarus pits in my au are a mix of the birth of the demon and BTAS lore surrounding them: they are natural deposits that must be manually dug out from underground wellsprings to be used, but they are also deeply connected to earthly magnetism and can be located via complex leylines and other ambiguously supernatural means. ra's, from his first discovery of them, has been dedicated to obsessively cataloguing and "deciphering" what he perceives to be the grand mystery of the natural world we live in, and that once he "solves" it, he can show the truth to others and the planet will be transformed into a paradise. (you may note this is not dissimilar to the riddler's pathos concerning patterns - more on that point later probably). this also has ties to his mortal occupation as a physician. he has a strong lingering investment in finding new ways to cure ills, and sees death as the ultimate ill, and therefore he wants to find a way to universally cure death.
now, a lot of this is directly informed by his backstory from birth of the demon, which happens to also contain the sole appearance of the other character in this image, Huwe (we aren't given another name for him to my memory, so i'm forced to assume that's his only one). huwe was an enemy-turned-ally of ra's who eventually became immortal alongside him up until the mid 1800(???)s, where they had a fight that ended in ra's killing huwe by stabbing him with a fire poker. i thought the dynamic between them was really interesting and underutilized in that comic so i decided to bring it back - it goes pretty differently in my au but i have not worked out the specifics to any degree of clarity yet so i will leave that for another post.
there is also more going on with talia and damian in this au, but this is getting long and they aren't even in this post so ill give the cliffnotes version: talia was raised to be more or less a 'warden' of the lazarus pits and she is immortal like ra's, albeit much younger chronologically. she has a vested desire to lead a "normal" life and live and die as a mortal. after having damian, who is ostensibly supposed to be her successor, she sends him away to live with bruce as a form of achieving her dream vicariously through him - as long as he remains mortal and lives as he wishes to, away from the inherited responsibility of the pits, she can bear the weight of it knowing he's out there somewhere. ra's's side of this is a whole other thing about immortal loneliness and his family being the only ones who he can relate to at all after all that he's done and a weird amount of parallels to the joker of all people but this is getting WAY TOO LONG.
TL;DR ra's (long hair) is a strange immortal doctor and the other guy is huwe, his totally-not-gay-and-also-immortal friend.
#scribbles#clipsverse#ra's al ghul#huwe#footnote do NOT ask me wtf they are wearing in this image. i made that shit up so hard. ill figure out actual outfits for them later
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how do you think the skeles would react to a vampire s/o??
Ooo how fun of a question! I've been brewing with ideas for awhile about this, especially since I have my own ideas for a vampire au with the skeletons. But here? I can have a bit of fun with this. Thank you for the idea >:]
Also-! Since you didn't specify which skeles you wanted, I'll do the main three! If you want some more, don't hesitate to ask! Enjoy
TW/CW: Blood and injury
Imagine it, you owning a home that was lavishly designed and catered to your every need. When you ended up getting injured, you didn't expect yourself to get stuck with monsters who would love you. He couldn't look at you in the eyes sometimes, but to him you're just too beautiful for him to.
To Note: this is during the early 1800's MWAHAHAHA I need the vibe
Vanilla: He didn't realize that you were a vampire at first when you stumbled across him. To him, you looked dangerous, however. He didn't know quite what it was that made him think that, but he was more than willing to tend to your wounds when he found you. The blood on your clothes wasn't just yours, but he didn't dare ask too many questions when he saw your defensiveness. He's just a commoner who happened to have a brother who asked to let you stay. That was enough for him. ...You had pretty eyes, a pretty laugh. When you tilted your head up in the candlelight, your hand covering your mouth as you laughed, he couldn't help but find himself trying to get you to smile more. Weeks pass, he starts to see you more as you bring gifts of food to him and he gets you to laugh more despite your original serious state. It's not until one night, he finds you. You, wearing a red that made him fear you. But when you found him, you had a look of hunger and desperation to you. You found your way to clawing up his clothes as you made your way inside his cabin and pleaded with him. You needed help, needed food, needed him. He was unsure, but....you needed the help. You promised that you would understand if he was disgusted with you, but you needed just one more request for help. He... couldn't say no. So even if it hurts when you sink your fangs into his shoulder, when you clung onto him as you stay beside him, he runs his phalanges through your soft hair and lets you eat. He was tired afterwards, but you thanked him and even helped clean his wounds. You wrapped your arms around him, thanking him. Of course, he'd do anything for you. He loved you, and when he was able to see you again, he made sure to let you know that. It's not something he expected, but if it's who you are, who is he to turn away? The two of you still talk, hang out. You rarely feed on him unless desperate, but you have come to realize that magic blood is much different than human blood. Much more...sweet. So when you come knocking at his door, when you find your way to embrace him in his bed, the two of you can simply lay there for hours, comfortable in each other's presence. He loves you, and in truth you love him, even if neither of you say it out loud.
Cyperus: Out of all the things that he's learned, the most important one to him was to remain kind and to help others. So, when he saw you, running away from danger, it was his first reaction. The blood you wore like a shawl wrapped around your flesh didn't seem to just be your own, but it was clear that you were in distress. He hid you from the guards, the very same ones he aspired to be some day. He stood where he was visible as you hid away, confronted by them. If they had noticed the blood on his leather boots, they would've known something was wrong. When they fled to another location due to his misguidance, he did....hesitate to return to your side. The guards told him that they were on the hunt for a vampire, they needed to kill it. By the expression you had on your face, you were that vampire. But you had looked frightened, clearly injured. He wasn't going to hand you over though, not when it was clear that you needed help. When they left, he made sure to check over your wounds. Holy stars you looked bad, bloody and battered. You were staring at him, he knows you heard what the guards shared. But he didn't dare bring it up, not when you clearly needed healing first. He asked to take you to a healer, a trusted one. You were reluctant, but why would you not trust the monster who just helped you? Before you both fled, he felt the tender touch of your hands on his cheekbones. He tried to ask what you were doing, but you had already pressed a kiss against his cheek before he could speak. Softly, softly you thanked him. Holy shit. Cyperus had to maintain composure, and so he did, even if his skull was a pretty shade of orange and pink hues. You were fixed up that same night, and when you got the rest you needed, Cyperus remained by your side. He held your hand, even with the small glances made his way from the doctor. That was fine with him, he wanted to make sure you felt safe. Yes, you could defend yourself, but sometimes the strong needed help too. It didn't take long for him to befriend you, and even if there was a mutual pining, it flowed naturally. He covered for you, kept you out of the guard's presence since he knew their schedule, and overall kept you in good company. He was delighted to see that Vanilla and you got along as well. Two kind souls can easily flow through magic beyond flesh and bone, two of unique connection. The first time you required blood, it was from a sense of trust. He trusted you to not harm him, and you promised to take care of that trust with utmost attention. You rarely feed in his presence, but it's clear to you that he doesn't mind being the monster you go to when you need it. He loves to help, and you love his dedication. Love here grows smoothly, sweetly, even if there are moments of fear from your end since you don't want to hurt him.
Red: The blacksmith. Okay so maybe it wasn't a good idea to go drinking that night. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to start talking to you when he saw you sitting in the corner by yourself. He wanted to get to know you, he wanted to give some lonely person company. He didn't expect to feel his soul thumping when he saw your face underneath your cloak, didn't expect to start stuttering as he talked. He got you to laugh though, got you to look less nervous. He found you a little off-putting though, despite not commenting on it. Looking back, he should've been more weary like his brother would suggest. But he wanted to be sincere with you, wanted to refrain himself from judging you since he wouldn't want someone to do the same to him. When he ended up getting more drunk with you beside him, the two of you getting progressively obnoxious, he couldn't stop himself from wrapping an arm around your shoulder and getting more comfortable. You did the same, getting comfortable in turn. The two of you didn't seem to even realize that you both were wasted, didn't realize the drunken promises made as the two of you stumbled into his bed. Not much happened, of course, except that he was bitten. He panicked a bit, but he was too drunk and could only stiffen before he found his eyelights shrinking a fraction of their usual size. You were cuddling beside him, peppering his neck with kisses, before you sank your fangs in. He saw the blood, but when he asked what you were doing, you seemed to snap out of it before apologizing. You told him the truth, spilling out your secrets like you spilled the blood of others. You were both drunk, and you apologized with a kiss on the wound and told him that you got carried away. He just smelled so sweet, you didn't think about your actions at the moment. He appreciated the truth, and he himself was not sober enough to handle the situation. He decided that you both need to just sleep for now, deal with it in the morning. He wasn't going to admit that a part of him was excited when you did bite him, but he was nervous all the same. You were a vampire, but he didn't feel the desire to report you. So when you both woke, he let you sleep when he was the first to wake. You were beautiful, sweet, and funny. Maybe it could work out. When Pitch found you both, however, he had to explain to him that nothing intense happened. When Pitch kept side eyeing him, however, the two had to talk later on about how Pitch seemed to already know you. However, the two of them resolve it later on, and the two of them are content with knowing what you are. They'll make it work And they did. He reassures you. He promises that he doesn't mind, he doesn't regret knowing you. He'll make sure you stay safe, and you make sure he stays safe in return. You love each other, you both just need to make adjustments.
Pitch: You didn't mean to frighten him, and he can tell the sincerity in your voice is in fact genuine. Still, he didn't expect to stumble across you when he was injured from an unfortunate situation. You looked so ethereal under the light of the moonlight, but he held back his tongue. You held an air of allure, but he still scrambled on the ground as blood seeped out and stained his shirt. He didn't want to look scared, but he knew that you could tell that he was weary. When you bent down, crouched in front of him, you extended your hand to him and still offered...kindness. He didn't realize that accepting your help would lead him to a path he would never expect. You cleaned his wounds, you worked with precision when you helped him stumble back to your home. It was closer, and by his hesitance to let you know where he lived, you didn't mind a guest. He could see that there was a....strangeness to you though. When you cleaned his wounds, you would hesitate to touch him and your staring wasn't just because you found his wounds hideous. He wasn't stupid, he knows that you're lying when you say that it's just because you don't want to hurt him. With his reservations in mind, he would ask questions, and you would only ask your own. Okay, that's fair. He found his guard lowering slowly, and when you were done you offered to let him sleep in a guest bedroom. He was reluctant, but you assured him when you told him that it has a lock from the inside. Too injured to walk back home, he simply gave in. Time passed after this event, and occasionally he would see you when he wandered around at night. You were still odd, and he was still guarded, but nothing much happened. He kept his knowledge about you from Red, not telling another soul of how he knew you. But you got him to feel comfortable over time, you even got him to smile at you a few times. He knew that something was off about you when you first met, but he didn't expect to see you in the dirt and hidden under bushes with your body injured and your eyes red as ruby. You had helped him though when he was injured, and even if you seemed to crave blood, he saw your self control and he saw your vulnerability. He wasn't going to take advantage of that by reporting you to the guard or killing you himself. No, he instead took you home and cleaned your wounds. You were starving, and as he wrapped your arm in linen, it was tense. Before he could stop himself though, he offered his blood to you. He saw your uncertainty, your resistance to the idea. But he insisted, especially because he didn't want you to die or hurt someone else. You must accept it, he won't let you leave otherwise. It hurt more than he expected when your clawed nails dug into his bone and your teeth found its way to his collarbone. He didn't scream though, didn't do anything but flinch as he clenched his fists. You fell asleep right as you finished, too full and too tired. He had to clean his own wound and carry you to bed, but he didn't mind. He would take care of you, like you took care of him. It was an unspoken understanding that you two had after this event, that the two of you would carry loyalty and devotion to one another. Keep each other safe, and keep each other close. He loves you, even if he doesn't say it. It takes him a bit to accept your words when you tell him that you love him, but when he looks at you the way he does, he's promising the same. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.
Powder: An important adventure, a hunter, a good monster who takes care of others. He knew of the town's vampire, but he didn't actually expect to find that the vampire was you. You were always so kind, always offering good company and help. You were reclusive, yes, but he never pushed for you to be more social than you were. He found you in an inconvenient bear trap, your leg almost shredded up from struggling and your body laying limp from pain. He saw the blood on your lips from the limp bear laying beside you, the red glow of your eyes. What a lucky skeleton he was, forced to figure out how to handle this. His duties are important, but you are his friend. You and him would spend time together during the day, laughing and encouraging one another. You were really the vampire? ......He feels that he was going to be banished from the royal guard after this. He pried you free from the trap, carried you to his home wrapped in his cloak. He barely spoke, and you were too tired from excessive blood loss. He lets you stay in his home, takes you to Stretch, even if there's a clear sign of discomfort he carries every now and again. He had to later pull Stretch aside since it's clear that he knows you, knows what you are. It doesn't end as smoothly as he had hoped. He'll bring food from his hunt and after skinning and taking his fill, he'll make sure you eat well. It's awkward, uncomfortable, but it becomes something he grows to open up about. He learns more, and of course, his dedication to those he cares for is more important to him than his role as an important figure of the guard. His first experience with your magic was interesting, especially since you had found him injured and it ended up with some magic use. It was strange, the way you bit into your wrist before placing it down into his wound was odd. He was losing too much blood to think, but his eyes remained on your face when you were tending to him. You always soothed him when you attempted to, and he ended up passing out. By the time he woke, he had found his injury was missing, and you were sleeping. You crawled up on the bed beside him and pressed your face against his chest, clinging onto him. You cared about him, that much was obvious. He cared about you too. When you woke, he was stroking his phalanges through your hair, and you both mumbled soft confessions to one another. May the guards be damned if they get you, and may the guards be damned if they ever got to him
Stretch: When Cyperus decided to ask him for help, he didn't think that it meant having to help such a unique case like yourself. You were a vampire, and he's never worked with one before. Yet all the same, what kind of doctor would he be if he didn't help you? He prided himself as the underground doctor, a cheap alternative for monsters to go to in need of medical attention. He charged a lot less and he worked with monsters better than the human doctors, and he knows the most about monsters since he's spent time studying and researching. He tended to you, and made sure you felt comfortable. Occasionally, he would make sure you came by to visit for check-ups, which you didn't mind from the looks of it. He doesn't realize how safe he makes you feel, how he makes you feel less scary. He wasn't the first to meet you out of the skeletons, but he's glad that you have others to rely on. He was the second to find out about you though, other than Cyperus. He keeps this secret from the others for you, up until Powder walks in with your injured body. The conversation didn't end too well between him and Powder, but he was more focused on tending to you first. You mean so much to him, you're as sweet as honey. He wants to take care of you, even if he's not physically strong. He has a lot of empathy for others, an emotional strength that he's had to build over time due to how this world is structured. So when it comes out that you both have a mutual love for one another (it was an accident), he was delighted. After all, he's happy to know that he can always be here to heal you and take care of you at the end of the day...
Closing Notes: IT DIDN'T SAVE MY SHIT THE FIRST TIME I AM GROWLING AND EATING RHE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE GRRRR GRAUGH (thank you for this fun request, I hope you enjoy. Don't be afraid to ask for more teehee)
#headcanon#undertale au#alternate universe#vampire au#skeleton x reader#vanilla serrif#cyperus serrif#undertale#red serrif#pitch serrif#underfell#powder serrif#stretch serrif#underswap#x reader#x yn#vampire reader#vampire yn#my thumbs hurt
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I was tagged by @cruulsummer
The rules are simple - find a sentence, or excerpt, that includes the words you’re given and paste it in, and include a link to the finished story if you want. But honestly, these are guidelines at best - do what you want.
I’m tagging: @lunarmoment @scorpioaqua @laestrellapanda @raevenlywrites @blushroomx @fiora-miriel
My words to find: Red - Sleep - Writhe - Shallow - Bet - Safe - Look - Anger - Help
Your words are: Intention - Suit - Dark - Smirk - Heavy - Spread - Music - Stop - Alcohol
Red and Help (double whammy because it’s a long bit!) from The Invention of Gravity (a Gravity Falls 1800’s AU that will probably never be finished…):
“What’s your name?” Mabel asked.
“Wendy Corduroy!” Grunkle Stan shouted from the ground. The three looked down. “Get in here!”
Wendy descended from the tree in a series of exact movements that told the twins she’d been slowing down for them before. The twins observed as she ran into the house after their uncle, long red hair mostly out of its cap flowing freely behind her.
The two looked at each other, finding themselves higher up the tree than they’d ever intended, and now alone.
“…How do we get down?” asked Dipper.
Inside, Wendy Corduroy was telling Stan, “I can chop wood, make pegs, I can empty up a mattress and fill it up and sew it back up again with help, I can almost cook on the spit without burning it, and I can clean and shoot a rifle.”
“You’re already hired, Miss Corduroy, I spoke with your papa,” Stan told her.
Sleep from There’s Probably a Moral at the End Somewhere (my Teen titans play-format Fairytale AU, posted here)
STARFIRE: She is floating two feet above the ground. You who know her best, is this how she sleeps?
ROBIN: I don’t even know if she sleeps. I don’t know anything about her. And everything I thought I knew about her was wrong.
I’ve got nothing for Writhe, or Squirm, or Thrash, so I offer you Struggle lol, from a roooough draft of my original story Surot (found absolutely nowhere):
“But if the bathrooms are closed, you can get the key from the hut over there, just ask for Laura…”
I stopped myself. Stella looked kind of jittery and nervous. When I’d motioned to the bathroom she’d dove forth, and now that I’d presented her with a challenge, her eyebrows arched, like she was slightly shocked she’d have to struggle in this way—or like she was calculating she’d spent too long talking to the class freak and was panicking about it.
“Hold on,” I say, and I hold my camera to my chest as I go to the hut myself, all the while wondering why I insist on doing things for pretty girls. It made me feel like a boy. Or like a rough maid from a period drama doing stuff for her delicate ladies.
Shallow from The Club of Unauthorized Heroes Year 3 (yet unpublished):
Dick’s breaths were shallow. His mind was stuck on the here and now. He felt like he should be reviewing the mission—searching for where they went so wrong. But really all he could think about was how much Gar hated hospitals. How annoyed he’d be when he woke up.
Bet from Feral (an entry for BBRae Week 2022, found here):
“That was cool. Quick and clean. Bit sloppy at the end, though. Anyone could see what you were doing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The girl’s voice was a grave whisper. Nearly a hiss.
“You chose a good area, too,” Gar went on regardless. “Lots of distracted loaded pockets around. I bet there’s even some left for me.”
Safe from Over Again (my Teen Titans-Miraculous Ladybug AU, first two chapters found here):
He took in her sarcasm and decided to one-up her. “Hm. You tell your crush you like them yet?”
She groaned, all her coolness gone. “I never should have told you about that.”
“But you did,” he reminded her with a big grin.
And she still didn’t know why. How had she told Beast Boy when she hadn’t even told Kori? She guessed she felt he was safe. Kori might try to set her up with Gar if she knew; it wouldn’t take her long to figure out who her crush was. But Beast Boy was detached from her world—he went to her school, but he couldn’t let her know that.
Look from The tide is full, the moon lies fair (my only She Ra fanfic, a Seamista oneshot, posted here):
He laughed, and it rumbled through his chest. “Really. A small fire. Without me needing to be there?”
“Maybe the venue missed you,” she returned, moving away to look at his face—his handsome face with the jaw and the ridiculously sharp moustache and the hyper-expressive eyes. She’d missed the chance to really look at it, before.
She tilted her head up to kiss him, and the whole world fell into place. To come back into his arms after a long time was a feeling she wouldn’t trade for anything.
And finally, Anger from The Club of Unauthorized Heroes Year 2 (which is published here, but not this bit yet!):
Gar looked back and forth between the faces in the car windows. “Jen?” He turned to Terra, whose face turned from anger to panic when he did.
“You haven’t figured it out yet, slug-face?” taunted Mikron. “Are we gonna have to spell it out for you?”
“Figure out what?” Gar returned. “That you’re Hive? We knew that for ages.”
“Do you wanna tell him?” Baran asked Terra. He was clearly having the time of his life.
#again. sorry I’m over a month late to this tag!#The very sad circumstance that I had writer’s block on a week off work of all times is the only reason I got to this#that also means I hate every line of this ha😭. anyway#tag games#writing tag game#fanfiction tag#writing
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darbywagon but the speedwagon foundation cloned speedwagon in the 80s
[okay this became a long post where I just ramble on about this ship so LONG POST EVERYBODY-- SORRY]
Damn ya'll are more bigbrained than me holy shit- definitely going to use this as an AU cause that's kinda funnier and interesting than what I was thinking-- I totally am not running away with this idea and making mini comicss pshhh-- anyway this is Clone Speedwagon first waking up-
Idk why I made that doctor so sinister looking I felt silly idk- anyway Then Speedwagon slowly regains more memories, maybe has a whole identity crisis arc or smthn after he learns that he's actually a clone. maybe he even like had the OG speedwagon's brain transplanted in him or something idk how it works lol--
Either way then he joins up with the Stardust Crusaders and heads to Egypt since him having more knowlege on Dio that the other's wouldn't have would be usefull to them and the fight- maybe he even gets a stand- that'd be cool as fuck-
anywhoo at this point I'm just rambling about how he'd meet D'arby which isn't too much involved in him having been cloned or whatever but idk I feel like writing it-
They get to cairo egypt, and Daniel D'arby is there, and going kinda along the actual plot chalenges the crusaders to gamble against him and his cheats. Though Speedy knows his cheats bc having come from ogre street he's grown up in an environment where you need to be able to detect that kind shit. Speedwagon is likely able to point out all of his tricks and cheats to the crusaders, earning a bit o respect from D'arby :]
Their encounter ends good, rather than D'arby having a panic attack over Jotaro, the crusaders just win at some gamble against Daniel bc Speedwagon wouldn't let him cheat lol.
[Ignore that I messed up like three things on this I'm drawin in markers--]
and after Dio is defeated and all his minions are kinda just without jobs or whatever happened to them D'arby sticks to Speedwagon since he'd have been the one to have been able to see through all of his tricks
[at this point I think I'm being kiiinda ooc for good ol Danny Darby but cmon he showed up in like 2 episodes--] and then D'arby finds out about the whole yknow... being a clone thing maybe Speedwagon has another identity crisis and also is learning about new technology from Terence [LET MY 1800'S BOY SPEEDWAGON PLAY A VIDEO GAME!!]
Anyway Darby and Speedwagon then they fall in love and kiss and have a happily ever after bc I'm crazy like that :]
#darbywagon#fuk should I give this AU a name??#uh#speedwagon clone AU#sure that'll work#also I did in fact look up when oxygen masks were invented to make sure Speedwagon would have been technically alive so#uh fuck you he's the inventor of oxygen masks bc I thought it would be funny#robert e.o. speedwagon#jjba#daniel j d'arby#clonewagon
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