#and he feels so honored to be so close to someone so majestic
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Divinity lams AU?
Alex is some divine, etheral being and John is just a pathetic and lost fallen angel who swears his devotion to this 'otherworldly being' for the privilege of following him around and being with him for eternity because it gives him a purpose. And at first, Alex just sees him as this sad soul whos's lost and doesnt know what to do and genuinely takes pity on him; but eventually it goes from a 'worshiped and worshiper' relationship to a relationship in which Alex see's him as an equal despite being nothing but.
And even before this, John had been searching for guidance through other people because he never fully trusted his instincts and yet this had only led him to be distrusting because the very reason he had 'fallen' was because he had followed anothers lead. In turn, he turned to etheral 'gods' who he knows cant do him wrong because they'll always view themselves as above him, and with pledging his devotion, they cant turn on him because he will forever be their faithful subject.
Unfortunately for John his devotion borders more on obsession. He loves looking up to see someone so majestic staring back down at him with such a soft smile in contrast to piercing eyes and to know Alex would be looking at him makes his heart flutter and insides melt and skin on In fire(figuratively..) and makes him just want to cut off his wings and give them to Alex as a sign of his true adoration he holds for him. And obviously this concerns Alex. I mean, his poor devotee is willing to do anything for him but theres a line, right? Alex still cares for him of course, what kind of being would he be if he allowed someone to sacrifice their own peace for him?
Cue emotional outburst number one! John would be rambling softly about how if he had the strength he would just rip out his wings and alex has to lean down and gently rest his palm on John's cheek to tell him not to ruin his beautiful wings and that being with him is devotion enough for him and that physical pain in his name would only cause harm. And then tears, of course, in natural angst fashion.
Oh, and John has an immense fear of corrupting Alex the entire time due to the fact hes a 'sinner' (by his own standards) and being in the presence of such divinity as a 'corrupted being' puts Alex at risk to fall from his stance of power. But even despite his fear he can't leave not only due to this eternal soul-binding agreement, but because being in his presence makes him feel alive and as though he can feel love again even after he had failed in doing so for so many years. But in the end Alex doesnt see himself as higher or with more power but as an equal.
John would have 'given up' his ability to feel love for another in order to be fully devoted to Alex, and yet he was convinced he didnt have it in the first place so he decided he wouldnt be giving it up if he never had it. But in turn he discovered that he did have the ability to love, but it had to be discovered through giving up the ability to love anyone other than Alex, and in a way hes happier with that.
But even so, John doesnt think hes worthy enough to be so close to someone so much better than he is, and he does view it as a privilege to be there until Alex tells him to stand up in which he physically has to look down at alex(he would stand at other points, of course, but he would never physically look down. If alex would speak to him he would physically attempt to lower his height to keep Alex above him by his own personal will.) But that is the point where he would cup johns face and then tell him that he's wonderful and the most faithful devotee hes had the 'honor' of being with and then tears. so many tears. so many pent up tears form years john has been telling himself that he cant feel love and to even be in the vicinity of Alex is a privilege that he doesnt deserve just to be told to his face that this divine being loves him and appreciates everything hes done and he doesnt want John to be hurt for him.
#divinity AU#im really..#divinity kinks are interesting#and#i love pathetic JL#worshiped/worshiper dynamic<3#tw long post#im ranting#i want to write this so bad#i have such a love for divine etheral beings who can either be so cruel or who treat their devotees with all the care in the world#im exposing myself with this one#oh to be a lost soul wandering around like w lsot puppy searching for a divine being to worship#alex looking down at him lovingly#while john looks up#his cheek resting on his leg#in pure awe and adoration#and to be looked down at with a soft smile by the same man hes seen yell with the screech of a demonic entity#gives him joy#and purpose#and makes him feel like his skin is being ignited#and his heart is melting#and he feels so honored to be so close to someone so majestic#alexander hamilton#amrev#john laurens#historical lams#lams#this would be historicsl btw#pretty red hair flowing around beautiful white wings#alex taking his hand and combing it through johns hair as hr nearly falls asleep resting againdt his leg<3
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𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙣
"That demon butler looks familiar"
A/N: Like I've said as grape anon, I have this headcanon that Sebastian Michaelis is MC's and Barbatos kid. So here's some family fluff <3 Also Sebastian isn't his real name, but for the sake of this, it is now
Barbatos x female!afab!reader (reader gets pregnant and is referred to as "mom")
>You didn't want to rush kids, after all, Barbatos work was absorbing, you were always aware and comfortable with it, but raising a half demon was a tough job to do without help
>However, because of his powers, Barbatos knew you were getting pregnant soon, so you talked about it in all seriousness, and to be honest, the most excited party was Diavolo
>Diavolo even started working harder so Barbatos could be there for you through your pregnancy
>While your husband was making sure the castle would be baby proof, the prince was buying cute little onesies
>The naming bit was... Complicated, As a human, you saw no problems with names like María, or Fyodor, also the demons assured you that they wouldn't take the meaning in consideration, but your life in the Devildom showed you God wasn't the nicest of guys, so naming your baby something like "gift from God"... kinda awkward
>"I like Gabri- shit, that's an angel"
>In the end, there was one name that caught your eye and Barbatos: Sebastian
>"Sebastian" meaning "revered and honorable", inspired by the city of Sebastia (now Divas)
>Even though Barbatos didn't want to use his powers to know the gender of the baby, there was something telling you it would be a boy
>When baby Sebastian finally arrived, you had never seen Barbatos look so joyous, he looked at you and the baby like you were the most precious thing he had ever seen (bc you are)
>He didn't want anyone seeing you two for the first hours after the birth, he just wanted to be with you like nothing else in the world mattered, like there was nothing outside of your room
>"Would you allow me keep you two all to myself just for now? I just need a moment with the most majestic beings in the all the three realms"
>He cries, doesn't let anyone else see it, but he cries. And still tears up a little when he remembers you two made a whole entire being just because you love each other. It's a lot, specially because he was never a child
>Of course he is a pro at children, he raised Diavolo. But sometimes he does feel like he can't be the best parent because of this
>And of course he wants to be the best parent, he has the best child and the best wife
>Sebastian always looked up to his father, but he was the role model, he's a total momma's boy
>Doesn't like when Barbatos does butlery things for you, he gets all pissy and says "I'm mommy's butler! You're dad!"
>Treats Diavolo like a sibling, but he acts like they're close in age
>Runs to his office with candy and tells him "shhh, don't be loud, or dad will get mad"
>Says he likes mommy better but literally squeals when he gets to "help" his dad do something
>Thanks to the constant exposure to Barbatos, he talks really formal, the kid's five and saying "Dad will be most displeased if he finds me eating these cookies" but kind of switches when he's near you or the brothers and a talks like a normal child
>It's not that he feels unrecognized by his father, but because of Barbato's nature, he's always trying to prove that he can do things (even small ones) by himself
>He's eight now! He's a big boy! He can tie his shoelaces!
>It's you that always thanked him saying "Thank you Sebastian, you're one hell of a butler" and he just... Kept that, forever
>Was literally born a perfectionist and will throw a tantrum if someone messes with his toys, only Barbatos can calm him when he's like that
>Out of everyone, his uncle Satan is his favorite, he's always borrowing books from him and Satan was the first one to show him the world of cat loving
>Likes Lucifer but thinks is funnier to mess with him rather than to spend time with him
>Ages very fast for demons, his parents know this but still it's really weird for most demons
>I headcanon that every demon has a particular sin (Barbatos being greed because of his lightstick) and he's a wrath demon
>His "true form" it's actually him using his powers to scare the shit out of Diavolo
>When he's working for Ciel, he still visits, but he tries to get his professional life absolutely distant from his personal life
>So he's much less perfect prim and proper in reality, that's just him being professional
>Talks shit about EVERYONE during the holidays in the devildom
>"I mean, how can you forget to prepare a bath?! That's servant 101! It's like these humans aren't good for anything!"
>"...Sorry mom, you and me both know I'm not referring to you"
#barbatos x you#om! barbatos#shall we date barbatos#obey me barbatos#Obey me x reader#obey me x mc#Barbatos x mc#barbatos fluff#sebastian michaelis
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I friggin love the Japanese Dragon MC asks! So there is a legend in Japan that every dragon has a scale that is shaped differently from others. It's called Gekirin (逆鱗) which literally meant Reverse Scales but is defined as Imperial Wrath. It is said that if you touch it, you will bring down the dragon's wrath upon yourself. (Copy pasted from Reddit).
And i have this personal headcanon that the Reverse Scale is a dragon’s weakest point, and when a dragon let someone touch their Reverse Scales, it means that they trust the person with their life.
How would Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, Mitsuhide, Shingen and Kennyo (replacing Yukimura from the first ask) reacting to learning about this information and MC letting them touch her Reverse Scale?
Oh I am honored you like those headcanons! And I loved this idea! Thank you for the request!
Japanese dragon MC lets them touch her reverse scales.
Oda forces.
Nobunaga Oda.
Nobunaga was already fascinated by the fact that you were a dragon, such a beautiful mystical being was so close to him. He wasn’t one to believe much in the mystical, but you changed that.
He knew the legends, and was aware he shouldn’t try touching your reverse scales. But all that changes when you let him do it. Something about it makes him realize your feelings for him, which filled him with joy.
Hideyoshi Toyotomi.
Hideyoshi was always careful to stay away from your reverse scales, he didn’t want your wrath upon him at all. However there will be a moment when he will accidentally lay his hand on your scale, he didn’t mean to but it happened.
Hideyoshi will immediately pull his hand away and apologize, trying his best to appease your anger. Except you didn’t look angry, you didn’t mind it at all. Something about being trusted so much by you made him happy.
Mitsuhide Akechi.
Mitsuhide knew the legends, and yet he was a prankster. Sometimes he would tease you about touching your scales, though he would never really do it. Mitsuhide would move his hand close to your reverse scales but would never touch them.
That is until you invite him to touch them, which he initially thought could be a threat. Once he realizes that isn’t the case, mitsuhide will caress your scales gently, smiling to himself.
Uesugi-Takeda alliance.
Shingen Takeda.
Shingen found you majestic, he was always in awe when looking at you in your dragon form. Despite how he usually is, being a bit touchy, he would never lay a hand on your scales, he wouldn’t disrespect you like that.
So imagine his shock when you invite him to touch your reverse scales, the man will be thinking he misheard you. He will feel like the impossible is happening as he caresses your scales, feeling them gently.
Lone forces.
Kennyo.
Kennyo always treated you with respect, regardless of you being in a human form or your dragon form. He wouldn’t even dream about laying a hand on you, as he felt he was far too corrupted to do so.
Even when you tell him it’s ok to touch your reverse scales, he will hesitate and feel like he isn’t worth it. Only after a while will he give in and touch your scales. Kennyo will feel at peace.
#ikemen sengoku#ikesen#ikemen sengoku shingen#ikemen sengoku nobunaga#ikemen sengoku mitsuhide#ikemen sengoku hideyoshi#ikemen sengoku kennyo
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hi there, dear! i saw you were doing matchups 🙀🙀 if it’s alright with you, may i please have a bsd matchup? please take your time on this!
my name is ren and i use she/they pronouns. write this with either one! i am omnisexual, but my preference is men at the moment. i am an aries, as well as an intj 6w5!
personality: my personality really depends on my mood. i am usually hella awkward when i first meet a person, and before we really get close i will be quiet and polite. but once you really get to know me, i am positive and energetic, and objectively funny. i’m incredibly kind and sweet and caring i think are the words, and i always put others before myself. i’m what one would call “a gifted kid”, i am very intelligent. i’m very responsible and i am the “mom friend”. i’m very clingy unless you make me uncomfortable. i can usually mask my emotions but if i bottle them up for too long I’ll just break down. i have ADHD and have the shortest attention span known to man, so I’m always off in my own little world. i need someone who can keep me grounded. i LOVE to talk and if you give me a chance, i won’t shut up. i am very insecure and have severe trust issues, unless you have proven to me time after time i can trust you. i fear that people find me annoying and i cry very easily, especially if someone raises their voice at me.
hobbies: i love to read, especially classics and fantasy novels. give me a good book and i can finish it in a day if i work hard enough. i play piano and i do theater and honors chorus, so i love to act and sing. i love writing and always am writing something, whether it’s in my head or on paper. i am an amazing cook and baker and will housewife if i have to 😼😼. i love to have conversations on politics and world debates. i like to play chess (but i suck) and pool (i don’t suck at pool), and i play tennis.
likes: i love music and literature in general. i am definitely a cat person and will pick up a cat off the side of the road and bring it home. i love drama and am a bit of a gossip. i also love fashion and will have a heart attack if i am not wearing something that matches. i love shopping and video games (i am a smash bros and mariokart GOD)
dislikes: i HATE bugs. if there is a bug in my house, i will scream and jump onto the counter to get away from it. you kill a bug for me? you have my undying loyalty. i can’t stand scary movies, especially clowns. i am somewhat of a picky eater. i also hate second chances. it’s not worth it to give hundreds of chances to someone who breaks your trust and heart every single time. i also hate the ocean. you take me to the beach? i will be sitting in a chair under an umbrella reading, looking absolutely disgusted 💀💀
love language:
A/n: THIS WAS THE FUNNIEST THING EVER LOLOL BUT NO WORRIES IT HAPPENS TO ME ALL THE TIME!! Also we are quite similar :0 thank you for requesting love, stay hydrated yourself and sleep a good amount <33
I will pair you up with…
Kunikida Doppo!
(Bro looks soo majestic <33)
Kunikida isn’t patient with Dazai since Dazai teases him on purpose, but he would be incredibly patient with you
He understands the struggle that comes with ADHD so he’d make sure you don’t zone out to much, maybe take you places and let you talk as much as you want
He‘s a great listener
Distracts you with something to fiddle with, so you don’t zone out on him
Maybe physical touch isn’t his biggest love language, but Initially warms up to it. PDA maybe too, depends really
Hand holding sure, except you guys work together (If you would work in the ADA as well that is) then it’s just an initial squeeze on the shoulder or a kiss on the head
Kunikidas love language is quality time fr fr
Takes you out all the time, art galleries, museums, ancient library, the park etc.
You don’t have to feel insecure around Kunikida as well. He loves you for you, not for who you‘d wish to be
He would make sure you understood that
Compliments all the way, long talks
He has a literal description of his dream partner like?????
He loves you the way you are and he promises you every time you doubt yourself that he loves the current you <3
As loyal as you Are
Get a bigger beach chair, because this guy won’t play in the water either.
Please give each other book recommendations???????
Would start off very shy and akward in the relationship but once you two really get to know every detail about each other honestly anyone would be jealous
Idk if it’s canon or not, but I picture Kunikida a great cook (not so good baker) too, so DUO COOKING
Baking with him is more complicated tho because he has absolutely zero clue what’s going on
He‘d probably even mess up half finished muffins (yk the ones were you only need to put in the eggs and oil and then the muffin mix? Yeah that one)
Kills the bugs for you <3
#Bsd#Bsd x reader#Bsd Match ups#Bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs matchup#headcanons#bungou stray dogs imagines#bsd imagines#Kunikida#kunikida doppo#kunikida x reader#kunikida doppo x reader#anime
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A Proper Thanks
A happy birthday to @that-g3-obsessive !!! I hope you like it!!
Link never knew how to properly thank his friends for all they did. Riju, for risking her life to get him aboard Naboris without telling him that not only was she twelve years old, but that she had never before used the thunder helm. Yunobo, for bravely reaching his potential and believing full-heartedly that Link could reach his too. Sidon, for having an unrelenting faith in a Hylian, even after years of being raised to do otherwise. Teba, for putting aside his doubts and giving his all in a world where that had never been enough before, and letting himself celebrate when it paid off.
Link never knew how to properly thank his friends for all they did. And his only idea was stupid, at least to him.
But he was too far along in the process to quit now. He had done his research, he had tracked down the ideal conditions, he had watched and waited and observed, him and Zelda often taking shifts. He had taken Sidon all the way down to the rainforest surrounding Lake Floria and here they waited quietly behind a rock, Sidon having no idea what for.
Link thanked the first of the four last week, by finding and catching an extremely rare Eldin Salamander, making a generously livable cage for it, and giving it to Yunobo as a pet. At first, the burly, timid Goron was afraid to go near it, the thing being so small and “soft” (lots of things were soft to Gorons), but he eventually named it Daruk, and got the hang of feeding and caring for it.
At the moment, Link knelt in wait for an elephant to appear. They were once thought extinct long before even the calamity, but he spotted one recently, a mother and her baby, with gray, leathery skin and thin yet large ears. It was no wonder the majestic beast was once used as inspiration for Divine Beast Vah Ruta, and although Link couldn’t box it up like Yunobo’s salamander, he could still offer Sidon the chance to see an elephant in person.
“There, right there,” Link said with a point and a whisper, spotting the elephant baby breaching out of large leaves and stepping into the shallow part of the lake. The mother followed closely.
“Is that…?” Sidon began to question. Link nodded.
“An elephant,” he confirmed. “Two to be exact.”
“This is magnificent,” Sidon said. “They are magnificent. It’s no wonder Ruta is so graceful and–”
The elephant in the distance interrupted Sidon with a happy trumpet-like blare as it ensconced itself with water.
“Uncanny!” Sidon said, somehow exclaiming and whispering simultaneously. “It sounds just like her.”
He was referring to Ruta then, but Link knew Sidon referred to someone else when Sidon said:
“She would have loved to see this.”
Link wasn’t sure how to reply, so he let the moment sit as he nodded. Eventually, Sidon’s giddy chuckle while watching the elephant told him that this was indeed a worthwhile thanks.
The camel Link found was much less skittish and far more friendly, Riju not only able to feel the thick, dusty hairs of the two-humped walker, but able to ride it as well. They were miles west of any map of Hyrule when they found an oasis that was home to many camels. Riju was starstruck, and honored to be in their company.
Teba was far less easy to convince.
“I don’t like surprises,” he said, in his deep, evenly toned voice that had no playfulness for Link to go off of. “And I don’t have time for games.”
Link sighed.
“It’s a thank you,” he explained. “For helping me way back when. I…”
It sounded so silly when he said it out loud. For Yunobo, Sidon, and Riju, Link merely showed them the animal. Their sense of adventure and whimsy got them to the needed place. But Teba was comfortable in his hut in Rito Village, his wife humming lullabies to his son.
“I’ve been doing it for all my friends,” Link said. “Finding the extinct or endangered animals that their culture's respective divine beast was based on and showing them.”
Teba turned, his interest piqued.
“Are you meaning to suggest you found a Hyrulean Eagle?” Teba asked. Link nodded.
“It’s a bit far,” Link said. “Near Tarrey Town? It’s east of Death Mountain.”
“I’ve never been out that far,” Teba said. “I’m not sure it’s worth the trip.”
“Oh please can we go!” Tulin exclaimed, jumping out of bed and tugging at his father’s leg. Link’s lips upturned. “Please! I promise I’ll be good!”
Teba looked down at his son and brought his larger wing to drape lovingly over the tyke’s shoulders. Teba was smiling too.
“I suppose we can go in the morning,” Teba said. “If you listen to your mother tonight.”
“And your mother says it’s bedtime,” Saki chimed, still kneeling at an empty, small bed.
Tulin’s big blue eyes looked up at Link, as if he would say otherwise.
“Go on,” Link prompted, nodding towards the bed. “I’ll be here in the morning. Don’t you worry.”
Tulin toddled over back to his small bed, curling and cuddling softly into the covers.
“Goodnight, Master Link,” Tulin said. Link smiled warmly.
“Goodnight,” Link said, turning to leave.
“Thank you,” he heard Teba say, but Link couldn’t have heard that right. Link turned around, but Teba looked as if he wasn’t to be questioned.
“All this talk of giving thanks,” Teba said. “I think you forget the part you played as well. It’s because of you Hyrule is safe. It’s because of you I no longer fear for my son’s life with each sunrise.”
Every time Link would hear those two words strung together and hurled his way, he would deflect them. He may as well have been prepared with a shield.
But this time, Teba’s eyes were stern. The Rito silently insisted Link take credit for his actions. For the first time since saving Hyrule, Link didn’t just rub it off and say “it was no problem” or reverse that statement and compliment the opposite person instead. This time he was forced to swallow it, to accept it, to for once not be humble but truthful and respectful of the praise he was given. The people of Hyrule were always welcome to his heroism yet…
“You’re welcome.”
Link said it and it meant so much more than he ever thought it would.
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Hi, are matchups still open? If not just ignore this request. And if they are open could I get a match up for Twisted wonderland?
I would like a romantic one, my sexuality is straight . I am a 18 y/o female. I am 5’6 (168cm) and I have a slim hourglass figure with big 🍒. I have long wavy brown hair and a babyface. My clothing style is a mix of femme fatale, bimbo and academia (both light and dark). My big three and MBTI type are Aries-sun, Virgo-moon, Aquarius-rising and ENTJ 8w7.
My love language is for giving and receiving both acts of service, I want someone to show me they love me rather than just tell me. (But for giving I adapt to what my s/o wants).
I love reading and seeking mental stimulation. Like watching and solving true crime cases. I love everything horror; books, comics, movies, stories and games. I also love theorizing random things.
People describe me as cold, harsh, mean,distant, arrogant and closed off.
I am very bubbly and cheerful around the people I love which isn’t many. I am also the mom friend of the group I make sure no one gets lost, I am the one who cooks because the kitchen has been burned down before by one of my “children”.
I also LOVE everything feminine! Like getting dolled up just to take the trash out. I love the color pink and the whole bimbo aesthetic. I am very smart (straight A student as well as an IQ test results to prove it) but somehow I say and do the dumbest things 😭.
(as an ex gifted child, I feel the being smart but doing dumb things aesthetic 😂 okay okay, anyway, I kind of knew immediately who I wanted to pair you with, but honorable mentions to Jade and Vil)
I match you with Rook Hunt.
He is incredibly perceptive, and sees right through the "cold" facade that most people think you have. A hunter is patient, and he'll wait things out until he's someone you love, and then he'll bask in the reward that is "your sweet radiant soul."
Your love language is acts of service. Rook adores telling you how much he loves you, but he also adores showing you. He'll wax poetry of your beauty while he brushes your hair for you. He'll organize your room, while he praises your intelligence. All he asks in return is to allow him to bask in your presence, and to hold you close "to ward off the night's chill."
He will solve true crime cases for hours with you, his smile never leaving his face. He's a little too good at it. You almost want to ask him who he's killed, but whenever you get up the courage to maybe ask, he throws you a dazzling smile that totally distracts you.
He knows how smart you are, and he'll never take it for granted. But he also thinks it is adorable when his precious trickster does something outside of the typical realm of "smart". He accepts both aspects of who you are, and relishes in every moment he can spend observing you.
"No." You say firmly, holding up the spray bottle as Rook enters the kitchen.
"Mademoiselle Trickster, have mercy on me! I am not here to cook, but if I was I am sure I would not set the room ablaze...unless...Mon amour would ask it of me," he ends his statements with a flirtatious wink, and you sigh.
"Look, I trust you. I do! It's not about you though, I've been burned before, literally, and it's easier on me this way," a timer goes off and you set the spray bottle down to check the food in the oven. It probably needed another minute.
However, by the time you finished this quick action, he was already at your side, smiling roguishly at you. He majestically took your hand and placed a kiss to it.
"I am only here, because I have a gift for you, and am too excited to wait until dinner to give it to you," he said, pulling out a choker made from pink ribbon, with a locket in the middle.
"May I?" He asked. You nodded, and he turned you so you faced away from him. He lifted your hair to hook the choker. Before he released you, he left a kiss below the ribbon, and to your hair as he returned it to its place flawlessly.
He twirled you so you faced him again, and heaved a lovesick sigh, "Oh, ma beaute, how did this humble hunter ever become worthy of basking in your light?"
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and hummed, "Since you are cooking a delightful dinner, I am going to wash the dishes for you."
You giggled a "thank you" and you both just went about your way, just enjoying being together.
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Signs, Symptoms and Cures of the Spiritual Diseases of the Heart
Translation and Commentary of Imām Mawlūd's Maṭharat al-Qulūb
by Hamza Yusuf
POEM VERSES 1—8
I begin by starting with the heart of beginnings, for it is the highest and noblest of beginnings.
Have courtesy with God, the High and the Majestic, by practicing modesty and humility—
dejected out of shame and humility humbled in awe, imploring Him—
by giving up your designs for His,
emptied of covetousness for what His servants have,
by hastening to fulfill His commands, and by being wary of the subtle encroachment of bad manners.
If you—the spiritual aspirant—realize your attributes of servitude, you will then be assisted with something of the attributes of the Eternally Besought.
Realize your abject character and impoverishment, and you will gain dignity and wealth from the All-Powerful.
There is no salvation like the heart’s salvation, given that all the limbs respond to its desires.
Courtesy: The Heart of Purification
Imam Mawlüd begins with a play on words that is lost in translation. The word for beginning in Arabic is bad’u, and the word for heart (qalb) also means to reverse something. If one were to literally reverse the word bad’u in Arabic, the word adab would result, which is the term for courtesy—where this treatise begins, since courtesy is the portal to the purification of the heart.
Adab in Arabic means a combination of things, in addition to courtesy. Adib (a derivative of adab), for example, has come to mean an erudite person, someone who is learned, for high manners and courtesy are associated with learning and erudition. But at the root of the word adab, the idea of courtesy is firmly established. Imam Mawlud starts his treatise with courtesy, since excellent behavior and comportment are the doorkeepers to the science of spiritual purification. One must have courtesy with regard to God—behave properly with respect to His presence—if he or she wishes to purify the heart. But how does one achieve this courtesy? Imam Mawlud mentions two requisite qualities associated with courtesy: modesty (ḥayā’) and humility (dhul).
Hayā’, in Arabic, conveys the meaning of shame, though the root word of ḥayā’ is closely associated with life and living. The Prophet stated, “Every religion has a quality that is characteristic of that religion. And the characteristic of my religion is ḥayā’,” an internal sense of shame, which includes bashfulness and modesty.
Most adults alive today have heard it said when they were children, “Shame on you!” Unfortunately, shame has come to be viewed as a negative word, as if it were a pejorative. Parents are now advised never to “shame a child,” never correct a child’s behavior by causing an emotional response. Instead, the current wisdom suggests that
people always make the child feel good regardless of his or her behavior. Eventually, what this does is disable naturally occurring deterrents to misbehavior.
Some anthropologists divide cultures into shame and guilt cultures. They say that guilt is an inward mechanism and shame an outward one. With regard to this discussion, guilt alludes to a human mechanism that produces strong feelings of remorse when someone has done something wrong, to the point that he or she needs to rectify the matter.
Most primitive cultures are not guilt-based, but shame-based, which is rooted in the fear of bringing shame upon oneself and the larger family. What Islam does is honor the concept of shame and take it to another level altogether—to a rank in which one feels a sense of shame before God. When a person acknowledges and realizes that God is fully aware of all that one does, says, or thinks, shame is elevated to a higher plane, to the unseen world from which there is no cover. In fact, one feels a sense of shame even before the angels.
So while Muslims comprise a shame-based culture, this notion transcends shame before one’s family—whether one’s elders or parents— and admits a mechanism that is not subject to the changing norms of human cultures. It is associated with the knowledge and active awareness that God is all-seeing of what one does—a reality that is permanent. The nurturing of this realization deters one from engaging in acts that are displeasing and vulgar. This is the essence of the noble prophetic teachings.
Imam Mawlud mentions that one should also have dhul, which literally refers to being lowly, abject, or humbled. The Quran mentions that people who incur the anger of God have this state of humiliation thrust upon them. But what is meant here is something different; it is humility or humbleness voluntarily assumed before God, which is required for courtesy.
Interestingly, the word munkasiran is translated as dejected, though literally it means broken. It conveys a sense of being humbled in the majestic presence of God. It refers to the awesome realization that each of us, at every moment, lives and acts before the august presence of the Creator of the heavens and the earth, the one God besides whom there is no power or might in all the universe. When one seriously reflects on God’s perfect watch over His creation, the countless blessings He sends down, and then considers the kind of deeds one brings before Him—what possible feelings can one generate except humility and degrees of shame? With these strong feelings, one implores God to change one’s state, make one’s desires consonant with His pleasure—giving up one’s designs for God’s designs. This is pure courtesy with respect to God, a requisite for spiritual purification.
The Prophet said, “None of you [fully] believes until his desires are in accordance with what I have brought,” aligned and at peace with the teachings of the Prophet , which embody the legacy of the prophetic teachings of Noah, Abraham, Moses, and Jesus. This entails striving to free oneself of greed and refusing the ethic of doing something for an ulterior motive that is essentially selfish and dissonant with the teachings of God’s prophets. One seeks nothing from God’s servants, that is, human beings. If one seeks something, he or she should seek it from God, the Sovereign of the heavens and the earth.
The basic rule is: ask God and then work, that is, take the means (asbab) that one must use to achieve something in this world.
Imam Mawlud says one should hasten “to fulfill [God’s] command” and be “wary of the subtle encroachment of bad manners,” namely, faults that one is unaware of. A hadith states, “One of you will say a word and give it no consideration, though it will drag the person [who uttered it] through Hellfire for 70 years.” A person can be so disconnected from prophetic teachings he or she may easily be careless about something that in reality invites great harm. It is comparable to a heedless person who finds himself in diplomatic circles laden with protocol, though he makes horrendous breaches of protocol without realizing it. With regard to God, the matter is obviously much more serious, in which case one’s soul may be harmed by one’s own breaches. The protocol here involves knowledge of God and what He has enjoined and proscribed.
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Since ur a catboy and maid simp 👀👀👀👀
Catboy maid headcanons for xiao, scaramouche, zhongli, kaeya and diluc?
Like, they lost a bet and have to drink a potion from albedo that turns them into catboy maid or smth pls?
-mac bulli anon
if u see me rotting, no u didnt
Xiao’s displeased by the transformation, but he has better things to do than to get worked up by a small thorn in his side. He has evil spirits to get rid off, and archons be damned if he’s going to let a pair of furry ears and a tail get in the way of his duty. It’s an odd sight, seeing him swing around his jade spear with his mask on, only to be moe-fied by his ears.
He insists on carrying out his own duties, saying that your selfish desires to have him as your maid won’t overrule his original contract to Rex Lapis. Chances are, you won’t even get him into the maid outfit before he goes running off to dispel some spirits. It can’t be helped: Xiao is someone who values Liyue’s peace before he values anything else, although he does feel a bit fuzzy inside when he sees how ecstatic you are over how cute he looks.
If he does find a moment of reprieve, that’s your best chance to capitalize on his transformation. Xiao claims that he needs no attention or extra love from you, that he’s a yaksha who works alone out of fear of harming you, but he’s still someone who craves for the gentle touch of a fellow being. Tell him that he’s done a good job and that you’re proud of him while cupping his face, and next thing you know, he’ll have slotted himself against your body and tell you that this isn’t necessary, all while his tail wags around happily. Archons forbid that anyone tries to interrupt your cuddling session, because he’ll start hissing like an actual cat the moment your attention is turned away from him.
Xiao purred against your skin, his head resting on the area in between your shoulder and neck. He was always cat-like to begin with: coy, distance, but still gentle and affectionate at the right times. You fondled his ears the way he liked them, and his tail curled up in satisfaction.
“What a pretty kittycat you are,” you cooed, your voice low and calm, like the careful trills of a lullaby. “Always working so hard... Always caring for someone other than yourself... What a good boy.”
“...Keep going,” he murmured, scooting closer to you when you stopped petting him for a second. You let a smile grace your lips as you stroked his soft fur again, enjoying the way the catboy immediately relaxed against you.
How adorable.
Scaramouche is livid, to say the least, by this change. He’s a Fatui Harbinger, and someone who demands nothing short of utmost respect and authority from those around him. Being demoted to not only a servant, but not even a human one at that, is a stain against his spotless, untouchable command.
The entire time he’s placed under your care, he grumbles and snaps at everything that comes his way. He mutters that you should be grateful he’s even putting up with this, and he might just flat-out refuse to do the things you ask of him—until you tell him that you’ll ask someone else, like Signora or Childe. Only then does he come scrambling back to you with a pout on his face and his ears pressed against his head to scold you and say that he could do a better job than any of those sloppy Harbingers could.
He also threatens you, saying that you owe him for humiliating him like this, but he also forgets all about being mean to you the moment you start petting his ears and scratching behind them. Scaramouche swears on his life that he hates being treated like this, but the way he clings to you and purrs loudly clearly says otherwise. He’ll get huffy and frown if you stop petting him, so be prepared for him to completely monopolize your time.
“I hate you for this,” he hissed, practically bristling in your lap. You bit back a laugh, feeling the way he wrapped his arms tightly around your torso, pulling himself as close as he could to your chest. “You’re terrible.”
“It’s ‘You’re terrible, Master’ to you,” you teased, burying your fingers in his hair to tease his ears. The Harbinger opened his mouth as if to snap back at you with a haughty remark, but he immediately melted into your touch instead, giving soft mewls and twisting his head against your skin so that he could feel more of your touch.
“I-I still hate you,” he grumbled, forcing himself to frown at you and huff. He dug his nails into your clothes, settling his chin on your shoulder so that you couldn’t see the blush rising to his cheeks. “Master.”
Zhongli has seen his fair share of oddities, being an archon and all, so he’s grown to get used to whatever life throws at him all while honoring his own approach to life and any traditions he upholds. While being transformed into a cat and a maid, for that matter, is surprising, it’s probably nothing more than a mild inconvenience to a god that once held the ability to shift into a variety of different forms.
He’s a skilled and knowledgeable man, so he’s more than willing to assist you in a variety of topics. His one condition while being placed under your care is that you treat him with the same respect you would show him at any other time. While he may be relatively polite and mild-mannered, he still was a very potent and feared God of War at one point in his life. He doesn’t expect much from you; just drop any funny business around him, and he’ll entertain you for hours with his knowledge about politics, arts, and other fine subjects.
Zhongli is good about keeping his emotions in check, and even with cat ears and a tail, it’s still fairly difficult to gauge how he truly feels. Of course, his new body does betray him every now and then: a flick of his tail to signify intrigue, ears pressed against his head for annoyance, a twitch of his nose for interest. It’s best not to tease him or pry into how he feels whenever he does make an odd movement, but it wouldn’t hurt to present yourself appropriately depending on whatever mood he’s in based off of his little actions. Besides, it’s not everyday that you can see someone as respected and feared as Zhongli in a cute maid dress with his tail swishing excitedly behind him.
His entrance was quiet, and the only thing that even signaled his presence in the room was the rustle of fabric as he walked towards you. His tail was still, and his ears perked up like it had been for the day, ever since he downed the transformation potion. “I brought you tea.”
You looked up from your paperwork, smiling softly at the former archon. You pulled a stray chair close to where you were seated, inviting him to sit down as he set the teacup down in front of you. “You shouldn’t have!”
He shook his head, his ears twitching with the slightest hint of satisfaction as he sat down. “It was about time you took a break. I thought I would remind you not to push yourself too far by bringing you something to relax with. Do drink up; I brewed it myself with prized leaves.”
Kaeya’s all about staying a step ahead of the game, and the moment fluffy cat ears and a tail sprout up on his body, there’s a good chance that he’s already found loads of ways to capitalize on his features to get what he wants. The best way to get information from anyone is to get them to let their guard down, and it’s hard to be intimidated by someone who looks like a stuffed animal.
Which is exactly what he does. There’s a good chance that Kaeya’s been observing you for a while, for whatever reasons he might have (be it personal or for the Knights of Favonius), so he’ll definitely use his cat features to his advantage. He’ll snuggle up to you and let you relax by teasing you with his tail and his ears, and he’ll let his silvery tongue do the rest as he extracts bits and pieces of information from you like he was extracting honey from a beehive.
Kaeya rocks the whole maid concept better than anyone else. Flexibility and adaptability are just a few of his many strong suits, and he might even go along with playing pretend with you just out of the goodwill of his heart. He’s extorted you already for loads of intel, so the least he can do to get you to keep staying so lax around him is to humor you just a bit. It’s also a good chance to see you smiling and laughing as you bury your head into his hair, and it sure doesn’t hurt to hear you gush over how much of a majestic catboy he is.
You felt his fluffy tail slink against your arms, Kaeya splayed out across your lap with the most smug smile you’ve ever seen from him. “Awwww, your tail is so cute! I wish I could just hold it and fall asleep! It feels just like a cloud!”
“Does it now, Master?” Kaeya purred, batting his eyeslashes. It had only been about fifteen minutes since he barged into your room to show off his cat features, and he had already gotten enough info about you to entertain him for weeks. “You can pet me more, if you’d like.”
You lit up, completely oblivious to the fact that Kaeya had you wrapped around his little finger. You were far too innocent, too careless even, and Kaeya found it amusing. “Oh, Kaeya! You’re the best!”
Diluc’s also fairly annoyed by this mess, but he isn’t one to viciously fight against what’s already happened. It is rather irritating to have to put all of his responsibilities aside for another day, but he’s capable businessman who’s used to having to adapt to all sorts of situations. Being turned into the catmaid is by far not the worst of his problems, but it’s enough of a change to actually make him think about how he presents himself not only to you but the people of Mondstadt as well.
He has maids around his winery, so he mimics his ow behavior with what he wants of them. Of course, you don’t make him cook or clean or anything like that, and similarly to Zhongli, he makes sure to treat you with respect as long as you do the same. Diluc’s a very pragmatic man, and he simply takes his duty as a maid to keep you out of trouble, accompanying you whenever you need to head out to protect you from stray monsters or helping you with any finances that you might have to sort out.
His only request is that he doesn’t let anyone outside of his immediate circle know about his current affliction. The last thing he needs is his reputation as a respectable tycoon tarnished, and he sure as hell doesn’t need Kaeya strolling around to mess with him. If it incentivizes you to keep the whole temporary catmaid thing under wraps, he’ll tell you that it can be a little secret between the two of you. It’s best that you give him your word, lest you end up on the wrong side of his stoic mannerisms.
“Good work today,” you remarked, offering up a meek smile to the Dawn Winery owner. “It must have been a lot of work. You know, having to deal with the whole transformation thing while running a business.”
Diluc glanced momentarily you, his ears pressing against his head. You wasn’t sure if it was out of annoyance or shyness, but you decided that it was the latter, as Diluc hadn’t walked away from you just yet. “It’s fine. Albedo said it should wear off any day now.”
“Mmm. But still, if you ever need help from me, let me know, okay? I know I’m your ‘master’ temporarily, but we’re still friends,” You laughed. The corners of Diluc’s mouth twitched as he turned away.
“Goodnight then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#xiao#scaramouche#zhongli#kaeya#diluc#g/n reader#serving the macaroni
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That’s One Hell of a Resume
{Set during the Harvest Moon Festival competitions}
~*~
To Blitzø’s great surprise, the Harvest Moon Festival was actually turning out to not be a fuck fest invite after all.
He honestly hadn’t been sure when the games initially kicked off. The horde of imps that had come to compete for the title of “the roughest, toughest, bastard in Wrath” had a proclivity for violence that could easily--and not inaccurately--be described as a passion. Then of course there was Stolas, watching him thirstily from atop his fancy seat underneath his fancy tent, cooing and cheering out “Blitzyyyyy!!'' at every opportunity he got to speak. Yet the honored owl prince somehow still managed to keep his pants on throughout each and every event--and even more impressively managed to keep his degrading sweet talk void of any sexual obscenities. He hadn’t even been able to manage that much on a day trip to a theme park with his daughter. Yet somehow...this wasn’t even the best part of the festival to Blitzø. It was up there to be sure, but it wasn’t the toppiest top. The “dom of the disco”**, if you will.
No, the BEST part of the festival--and the thing that kept the imp grinning from ear to ear throughout the entire competition--was that this honkytonk battle royale was shaping up to be the perfect opportunity to show off and be recognized for just how much of a boss-ass bitch Blitz actually was: 2nd to absolutely fucking none.
Well...maybe with ONE slight exception.
“I gotta say, you just keep on impressin’ me every chance you get,” that one slight exception said with a smirk, the tip of his tail flicking forward into a small curl. “No wonder your killin’ biz is so successful. You do every kill single-handed there, Boss Man?”
The two were standing off on the sidelines together during one of the many interims inbetween contests, where the first round winners had already secured their victories and now were stuck watching the remaining shitty losers battle it out to find out which of them would end up being the absolute shittiest loser. It was taking a stupidly long-ass time, a hell of a lot longer than Blitzø would’ve normally had the patience for, but with his present company leaning up against the bleacher stands like that.....there were definitely worse ways he could be spending his down time right now.
“Nah,” he answered with a small flick of his wrist, gesturing vaguely in the general direction of where he’d last seen Moxxie getting his ass kicked and Millie sitting in the stands watching it happen. “I know he’s not doing a great job of showing it right now--” he said just as Moxxie got elbow dropped by a shark “--but Moxxie’s not completely useless. He did get me shot on a job once while he was in the middle of being a little bitch, but as soon as he finally found his balls again, he got things back under control pretty fast. And Millie’s just a straight up badass. If her parents had allowed her to play in the games, you’d have gotten your ass handed to you three rounds ago.”
“That so?” Striker’s lips drew back into a slight smirk, just enough for the light to catch on the very tip of his fanged gold tooth. “Because I seem to remember a certain someone else bein’ the one to get themselves all roped up in a hogtie about three rounds ago.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about but it sounds like complete bullshit.”
“That’s kinda what I was thinkin’ myself to be honest after that first relay run--” Those snake-like eyes raked in every inch of Blitz’s annoyed face, feeling the corners of his own pleasantly sting as his grin spread even wider. “Right up ‘til I saw some o’that nice red color risin’ up in their face--”
“IT’S HOT--THERE ARE FUCKING VOLCANOES NEARBY OKAY!!” Blitz realized, very quickly, just how loud and defensive those words sounded, but he also realized just as quickly that there wasn’t anything he could do to take them back now. Instead, he straightened himself up, cleared his throat, pretended that there wasn’t some of ‘that nice red color’ in his face now, and said in what he thought was a much more nonchalant voice, “Anyway, I’m starving, and since these last few dipshits are taking forever to get their asses kicked, I’m gonna go find something deep-fried to shove down my throat. Catch you at the awards ceremony or whatever the fuck they do around here to finish themselves off.”
The I.M.P. Head made it a grand total of two steps before the unmistakable crunch of boots sounded behind him, followed by a faint scoff of a laugh and the distinct rattling of a tail as Striker joined him at his side.
“There’s a whole row of food stands back there behind the stage,” he said with a nod, meeting Blitzø’s stride and starting to veer them off in that direction. “And now that you mention it, I wouldn’t mind grabbin’ a bite. Besides--I feel like I might owe you one for bringin’ up such a tender subject.”
The unrepentant but non-malicious smirk he sent Blitz’s way wasn’t at all softened by the wink that accompanied it, but it somehow brought a slight smile to the smaller imp’s lips all the same.
“You got fucking lucky and that was it,” Blitz insisted with a sharp flick of his tail, not having the faintest fucking clue why he was smiling about this in the first place but subconscioiusly hoping that swatting at Striker would be distracting enough that the taller imp wouldn’t notice. “And besides, I could’ve gotten out of it if I had really wanted to.”
“Oh, so you wanted to be all tied up like that?” The grin that spread across Striker’s face was even wider than the first, his razor sharp teeth now on full display. “Well now, if that’s what you were wantin’ you could’ve just asked. I’d’ve been happy to oblige right from the start.”
“Ha! Like I’d ever make it that easy for you,” Blitzø retorted with a challenging grin, his eyes dancing with a truly impish gleam of delight as he and Striker rounded the stage together, his earlier thoughts of the food shacks that waited beyond almost entirely forgotten as they were overtaken by memories of their constant back-and-forth scuffle throughout the festival. “You beating me fair and square is one thing--even though you still totally just got really fucking lucky and also it definitely never even happened in the first place. But if you were actually going to beat me...you better believe it’s not gonna happen without a fight. I don’t just bow out like some sloppy bitch who can’t figure out where they put their car keys and has to take the walk of shame back to their shitty apartment at 4 in the morning. If you wanna come out on top over me, you better fucking work for it.”
The black tip of his pointed tail flicked up to poke Striker once in the center of his chest, punctuating the word ‘work’ perfectly.
Striker’s tail, on the other hand, began to rattle.
“Yeah?” he said, his earlier easy tone starting to become weighted with something softer, but deeper. Neither he nor Blitzø made any indication that they were aware that he was guiding them both right on past the front of the stand that they had originally been headed toward, and instead had them disappearing into the shadows behind it. “You’re okay with not coming out on top so long as whoever does earns their place there?”
“I mean...” Blitzø trailed off a bit as he casually leaned up against the back of the stand, folding his arms over his chest as he eyed Striker with that lingering gleam in his own gaze. “You have been able to keep up with me in all the other games...so I guess it might be possible for you to get the upper hand on me for at least one of them.”
“Just me?” The rattling sound intensified.
“Well there sure as fuck wasn’t anyone else who was able to keep up,” Blitzø rolled his eyes in annoyed exasperation at just how much everyone else truly sucked in comparison to the two of them, before he slowly looked back up at Striker--and realized that the snake-like imp was suddenly a lot closer than he’d been before. Much closer.
“...Striker?”
“Yeah, Blitz?”
“Please tell me we’re not actually talking about the fucking games anymore.”
A short, soft laugh was the initial answer, followed by that still rattling tail coiling around Blitz’s slender waist as Striker propped himself up on one arm against the structure behind them, his hand splayed just to the side of the crimson imp’s right cheek.
“I haven’t been talkin’ about the games since you got me with your tail, Darlin’,” he whispered, his hooded eyes narrowing to glowing slits of pale gold as he leaned in almost close enough to touch. “But I don’t know if there ain’t somethin’ to be said about that “fuckin’” part yet...”
Blitz’s words came back to him then, ringing in his head as clear as when he first said them:
“...Well if you promise this isn’t some fuck fest invite...”
“.....You gonna work for it, Cowboy?”
“Yessir, Boss Man.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So...lemme get this straight--” Blitzø finally shifted his weight, easing it off of Striker and rolling to rest his back on whatever podunk concession stand they’d spent the last ten minutes fucking up against. “--You tie me for first place in the games, you ride around on the most majestic fucking horse I’ve ever seen, you take down a hell hog with a single stab while completely and mercilessly humiliating one of my employees in front of his in-laws at the same fucking time, and you called me “Sir” when we first met? AND you’re a great fuck??”
The quirked eyebrow and smug gold-toothed grin he got in reply said more than words ever could, especially when accompanied by the satisfied rattling of that long, spiked tail.
“That’s one hell of a resume you’ve got there.” Blitzø didn’t even realize his own face had split into a grin until he saw it reflected in Striker’s eyes, hypnotized by the sheer reckless abandon he felt ignited between them. “Want to join I.M.P.?”
Striker couldn’t help but laugh, reaching up to adjust the brim of his hat from where Blitz’s tail had nearly knocked it off, his unwavering gaze sparking into an infernal glow.
“Tell you what,” he said, his tone a warm rumble of amusement meeting temptation. “You and I head on back to the stage, revel in our well-deserved glory, and--once we’re satisfied it’s been rubbed into the faces of those sorry ass losers enough--I’ll head on back up to the farm and have a little talk with Miss Mildred’s folks about finishin’ things up around here for the season. Maybe see if they can find another set of hands to join ‘em for the next one if mine are gonna be occupied with--” His hand found its way down to Blito’s face, the sharp claw-like nail of his thumb pressing under the shorter imp’s chin to tilt it up towards his own. “--other things.”
“Believe me, Cowboy,” Blitzø’s eyes were burning, twin embers of eagerness that ran so deep he could feel the heat of it vibrating through to his very core--and his vocal chords. “You’re not going to find a more hands-on job than the one you’re gonna get if you come and work for me. ESPECIALLY in that order.”
Striker’s tail snaked its way up and along past Blitz’s hip, the pointed tip flicking over his chest as it’s rattle joined in the chorus of that deep, heated purring.
“Don’t mind if I hold you to that, Sir.”
“Oh fuck me--”
And Striker did. Again.
~*~
Random Notes:
**My counterpart to the phrase “the belle of the ball”--”the dom of the disco”. I think I’m way funnier than I actually am. :D
ANYWAY tho I really hope y’all like it!! This is the first fanfic I’ve posted anywhere publicly in a hot minute so I hope it’s not a bad kickoff to something I’m hoping to really get back into!! I have plans to post the full fic of this--with the non-censored sex scene to my AO3 oohlala--so if that’s something you’d like to see, feel free to lemme know here and I can get right on that!! Otherwise have a great day, thanks for reading, and if anyone wants to hit me up for some lovely BlitzStrike talks, I’m always open to messages!!
Thanks again Lovelies!! <3
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hi! do you do male!readers?
if so, could you do a male!reader x Adrian agreste? just something fluffy please :D
🌹💫
I never wrote for a male! Reader so this was a fun experiment write for me, hope it was up to your taste!
Adrian was waiting at a cafe, occasionally checking his watch as he sighed.
“Told you coming 15 minutes early was a stupid idea.” Plagg smugly pointed out to Adrian from his spot in the inner pocket of Adrian’s cardigan.
“Shut up, and get back in before someone spots you.” Adrian annoyedly shoved his tiny head back deeper in the pocket, ignoring Plagg’s protests to be gentler. “Maybe I should order something while I wait. . . “
“Adrian!” The blonde boy brightened at the voice of his long awaited date, looking up to see Y/n speed walking his way towards him. “Did I keep you waiting for too long? I was thinking of coming 15 minutes earlier but didn’t know if it was a good idea. . . “
Adrian momentarily stood surprised before breaking into a grin.
“Nah, you’re good. I wasn’t waiting too long.”
“That’s good, I’d feel kinda bad if you did.”
“Well, you’re here now. That’s what counts right?” Adrian got up from his seat, grabbing Y/n’s hand, bringing it up to his lips, giving a gentle kiss. Y/n got flustered as he averted his eyes, looking down at his feet as the blush crawled up his face.
“G-Gee, you sure do know how to turn up the charm.”
“I try.” Adrian chuckled, helping Y/n sit down. “Your reactions are cute too, You’re too easy to tease it’s hard to resist.”
Y/n only grumbled in response before remembering their plans.
“What movie are we going to see anyway?” Adrian only pridely smiled, digging his pockets and sliding the two tickets across the table. Y/n grabbed it and gasped. “No way! F/m?! It stopped screening weeks ago, how’d you. . . “
“Rich model boy,” Adrian pointed to himself. “Funny the things you can get with a million dollar face like mine.”
“Man, dating a model doesn’t seem so bad now huh.”
“With the right one, you can win the best of both worlds.” Adrian cheekily winked.
“You didn’t just make a hannah montana reference.”
“I like to think my life is one close to hers.”
“Except the fact you don’t wear a wig to hide your agreste look.”
“Don’t need to, I have a grumby bodyguard to keep publicity off.”
“Good point.”
“Now, jokes aside. Do you want anything to eat before we leave for our movie.” Y/n thought for a while, not feeling up for it.
“We can walk there, we’ll make it as soon as the movie is starting.”
“Whatever my dear boyfriend requests.” Adrian held out his hand majestically.
“Normally I’d say that was cringe and never go on a date with you again, but you’re getting a pass for being cute.”
“I’m honored.” Adrian and Y/n laughed for a bit as they began walking, their hands intertwined.
“Say, where is that bodyguard of yours?”
“After a couple of begging, he’s giving me an hour of alone time with my love before starting to follow us again.”
“Oh? You’re planning to do something during that hour?”
“I can think of a couple activities.”
“Adrian!”
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A Pitch Perfect Duet
Warnings: Some kissing, descriptions of stage fright
All feedback is welcome!
Thanks to @eligaxy for giving me the idea to write this!
Venti x GN!Reader
1.3k Words
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Part Two to Pitch Perfect Pair
Somehow as you stood there at the corner of the street, you wondered what in the world you were doing there. There were just so many people around and you just felt so out of place. You clutched your flute closer nervously. How did you feel so unprepared? The past month had been spent practicing! Your skills weren’t just where they were before, you’d gotten even better than you’d ever been. So why, why did you feel like crawling into a hole and dying?
Practicing had been a lot of fun, and not just because there was plenty of time to steal kisses. Just being there and spending time with Venti made your heart sing louder than your flute could ever play. His love for music was on full display, shining through his smile. And you love that smile so, so much. He had helped you through the emotional baggage that was your mother’s death and helped you love playing for yourself just as much as playing for other people.
If you had been close before you had grown even closer. He practically lives at your house at this point and he brought a kind of light with him that made you wonder if this is what you and your empty house were missing all along. It seemed to be what you were missing all along. Everything just seemed to be so natural with him, from practicing to making dinner to making out. That last thought had you blushing red and a laugh pulled you out of your thoughts.
“What’s on your mind? You’re as red as an apple!” Venti teased as he poked your cheek. “Um, nothing,” you squeaked. Venti hummed doubtfully but didn’t press. “Are you ready?” He asked. “It looks like almost everyone is here! Lisa even managed to drag Jean along.”
Your face goes from a rosy red to a pale white in seconds and Venti notices the change immediately. “Hey, is everything okay? You’ll do great! We’ve been practicing a lot! Remember how your grumpy neighbors even dropped by to complement us?” You did remember that. It was one of the strangest moments of your entire life. When they’d dropped by you had fully expected a lecture on being too loud and how you both needed to quiet down. So when they had smiled and thanked you for the music you hadn’t even known what to think!
Some color returned to your face as you nodded. “I’m just nervous,” you admitted, “I’ve never performed for so large of a crowd before. We only really played at home with each other. This is really out of my comfort zone and I’m doing my best but it’s just really hard.” Venti grabbed your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Everything will go fine, I promise.” The sincerity in his eyes helped you relax as you nodded your head and took a deep breath. “Alright, let’s give this a try,” you said, determined.
He tugged you over, closer to the corner where you planned to perform and the crowd grew quiet. You fiddled some with your flute but did your best to give off an air of confidence and poise. Venti, ever the showman, introduced your little performance before pulling out his lyre and making sure you were ready. He strummed the first notes, you lifted your flute to your lips, and you were off.
Wanting your duet to be memorable, Venti had taught you the flute part of a song he had written and played a long time ago. It was a majestic melody. The tune seemed to soar like the birds in the sky. The harmonies felt as sweeping as the branches of Vanessa’s tree. The rhythm was different from any of the songs you knew and felt lively and haunting at the same time. Together all this created a beautiful song that brings to mind ancient days of magic, valor, and mystery.
The audience was entranced by the music that you and Venti wove expertly. Even those who were just in the area came a little closer to see where the music was coming from. Your crowd grew as you continued the song as more and more people flocked to your performance. Thankfully you didn’t notice any of this since you were in the habit of closing your eyes while you played. It helped you focus better on the music and remembering what you practiced.
So when you finished the song and opened your eyes and saw the size of the crowd you froze up. That was a lot of people. And they were all silent and staring at you. Oh no. Did you mess up? Was there something on your face? Is something wrong?
Venti grabs your wrist before you can get too wound up and pulls you into a bow. As you finish your bow, the street corner rings with applause. Someone, probably Bennette, whoops from the back of the crowd and Klee whistles from Albedo’s side. A small smile sneaks onto your face that slowly grows into a grin as you bask in their enjoyment of your performance. Practicing was nice, but other people appreciating all your hard work just gives you a special kind of feeling.
After a while of congratulations and compliments, the crowd dispersed and the two of you were left alone. Venti slid his hand from your wrist to your hand and squeezed it gently. “See? What did I say? Everything went great,” he stated confidently. “They all loved it! You had nothing to be afraid of, so don’t worry about it too much next time, okay?”
“Who said anything about there being a next time?” You teased. “But this was so much fun! Please can we do it again?” He begged, pulling out his puppy dog eyes. You never could resist the puppy dog eyes and he knew it. “Fine,” you sighed, “I was just joking anyways. It would be an honor to keep playing duets with you.”
He grinned and tugged your hand. “Let’s get home, I have a surprise for you.” Curious about what he could be talking about, you followed him home. Thankfully it wasn’t too far away so your walk wasn’t very long. Venti chattered the whole way there about how excited he was for your surprise. By the time you got there you were figuratively on the edge of your seat.
Once you got inside you closed the door he grabbed you in a great big hug that made you feel all cozy, soft, and tingly inside. You buried your head in his shoulder, returned the hug, and breathed in deeply. He smelled like dandelion wine, cecelias, and the sort of freshness only the wind can bring. This was one of your favorite smells and you’d gotten very familiar with it during the past month.
Eventually Venti released you from the hug to gently hold the sides of your head, moving so that your foreheads were pressed together. He smiled proudly. “You did so well,” he said. “I’m really lucky to have a partner like you. All that practice was worth it, we really did have perfect pitch.”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then your nose, and everywhere else on your face. You laughed and basked in the attention he was giving you. Pulling away for a second, he grinned like the love struck fool you’d made him. “I love you so much,” he proclaimed as he went in for a kiss on the lips.
While you’d kissed during your practice sessions, this one felt different. It was slow, meaningful, and full of all the emotion he could pour into it. Kissing him back felt natural and your heart felt full to bursting with all your love for him. It felt like you were falling in love with him all over again.
Eventually you had to pull away for air. Both of you had gentle smiles on your faces and soft eyes so full of your love for each other. “I love you too,” you whispered back, then went back in for another kiss. You spent the rest of the day in each other’s arms, enjoying every moment together.
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on top of the world ↠ hhj.
genre: royal au; fluff inspired by a fucking barbie movie leave me alone okay
⇥ warnings: if having a ballroom dance with hyunjin is a warning, then <3, district names are randomly chosen, not meant in reference to SKZ !!
wc: 1.5 K
⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not aim to represent the activities of the real Hwang Hyunjin, nor does it represent JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡
type: drabble.
taglist: @stayverse @districtninewriters @inkidz @sunoo-luvs
part of: the url drabble game; requested by @tpwkjerii (requests for this are closed now!)
↯ note: dghwey i had literally no idea what to write for your url, so i searched up the full form of “tpwk” and ended up with “treat people with kindness”. I developed it into an idea i already had. Tell me if you like it <33 ⇥ dawn.☀️
↯ note 2: oh... i cannot... write fantasy for the life in me. ⇥ dawn.☀️
“Ladies, all in line.” The instructor clapped her hand, signaling all the princess and lady royals to line up in front of her. You quickly scrambled out of where you were seated, almost doubling over your heels as you tried to wobble your way to the line.
Oh curse those heels. They were gonna be the reason you crashed headfirst into the floor one day, you were sure. They were those typical pointy, magenta colored pumps that only an expert in poise could pull of properly. Your uniform didn’t help either, layers and layers of clothing — topped of with a jacket, which meant you would be sweating buckets if it weren’t for the air conditioning.
Gosh, you hated being the princess and heir to the next throne. Why couldn’t you just lounge in the courtroom in your sweats and sneakers? They were more fashionable anyway. When your mom had told you that you were gonna attend “Royal Training School”, you’d pictured horse riding in the lush green stables, elegant dinners with rich silverware, and most of all — just having some time away from the royal castle, just having some time for yourself and having fun in that time.
Well, you were in for a huge mess.
It’d been only a week since you attended this place, and you hated it. The place woke you up at 5 a.m., shoved breakfast (which was mostly a piece of “high gluten” bread) to your hands and then took you ballroom dancing. So your day was terrible from the beginning already. There was no horseback riding, no sword fighting, because according to your parents — “princesses didn’t do fights”. Seemed superstitious to you, someone with a forward thinking mind, but what could you do?
Too dazed in your thoughts, your foot slipped and you lurched forward. You yelped loudly, but before you could catch the attention of the class or feel the polished marble against your face, a hand wrapped around your waist, ceasing your fall and holding you mid-air.
“You okay, princess?”
You snapped back into attention, eyes meeting with your classmates, all of them having a shocked look on their faces, and some of them anger. Turning around, you were surprised to gaze into hazel brown eyes that seemed to draw you in without reserve.
“Um..., princess?”
“Ah, yes!” You snapped out of it once again, straightening up as you smoothened the fabric of your shirt. “T-Thank you.” You took once glance at his face, and... wow. He was absolutely ethereal. His golden locks of hair fell perfectly over his temples, he adorned a majestic black suit and by just looking at him, he exuded confidence.
He giggled. “It’s alright, princess. Glad you aren’t hurt.”
“Oh, that-”
“Ahem!” The both of you looked to the side, noticing now how the entire class, along with the instructor were giving you snobby glares. “If you’re done chit chatting, can we start out class, Princess Y/N and Prince Hyunjin?”
Hyunjin. That was a pretty name.
You noticed that there was another line of men, wearing similar attire like Hyunjin, lined up in front of the princesses. “They must be from another academy,” Silent thoughts flooded your mind as you took your place, and your eyes went wide when you found yourself face to face with the Hyunjin guy again, though there was a reasonable distance between the both of you.
“Now, royals.” The instructor chimed, clacking her heels against the surface as she waltzed to the edge of the room. “You’ve been practicing ballroom dancing with yourselves for a while now, so The Head and me decided that it would be a good idea for you to get a little peek of what the actual thing looks like.” She said uninterestedly, picking at the underside of the nails as she started the music.
Immediately, slow, melodious music flooded through the speakers as you looked at one another. and then at the guy in front of you... err, Hyunjin. “You’ve already been partnered up, so get started.”
Your mouth dropped open a bit when you realised what the instructor’s statement meant, almost panicking when all the girls next to you bowed down gracefully, coaxing you to follow the same. Hyunjin did the signature “bow down and lend a hand” pose like his other classmates, and you hesitantly straightened up, lending a hand to him.
Immediately, just like how confident he looked, he pulled you close to himself, settling his hands on your hips as a smirk graced his features.
Ah... so he’d noticed you blushing.
You didn’t know why you were blushing in the first place. You’d never met this person before, but something about him just made the giddy schoolgirl in you bubble up to the surface. You shyly settled your hands on his shoulders, moving along to the beat with his motions... and silently praying your ant’s worth of dancing knowledge would not fuck this up.
“So, should we do the introductions?”
“What?” You asked, almost stumbling on your feet once again. You made a mental reminder to burn the current pair of heels you were sporting.
“Don’t you introduce yourself to the person you’re dancing with?” he heaved a laugh, almost melting at how adorably bashful you were getting in his hold. You were about to mumble a response, but then stopped, gathered your confidence, and smiled sweetly.
“Oh well then, I’m Princess Y/N from District 8; honor to meet you.” You said in a sing song voice, muffling a laugh as Hyunjin twirled you around in his hold and pulled you back. The velvet coat was soft under your touch, and for some odd reason, you wondered how his soft-lookin hair would feel under your palm.
“I’m Prince Hyunjin from District 10; equally honored to meet you,” He tilted his head to the side and you noticed him bite his lip for a second. Brushing it off, you continued swaying to the music, feeling slightly more at ease now.
“How’s school here, princess Y/N? You enjoying?” His tone was respectful, almost like he was talking to a friend he met after many years,
“Nah,” You rolled your eyes, making Hyunjin look at you like a confused puppy, waiting for you to explain. Hyunjin wasn’t used to someone hearing they disliked royal training, especially when he’d found it nothing but enjoying.
“It’s just the same old. “Oh go to ballroom, learn to balance books on your head, walk with grace, eat your food elegantly, dance again. sleep early!” Your voice was a hushed whisper, yet mocking. “You’d think that’s what I should’ve expected, but I wanted to learn sword fighting, horse riding, that kind of stuff. They barely let us outdoors here.” You tsked, watching as Hyunjin bit his lip again.
“What?” You asked, figuring that Hyunjin knew you’d noticed his action.
He chuckled. “Your stepping on my toes.”
“Oh crap I am?” You looed down, pulling your feet farther away from his as an apology crawled up your tongue, but before you could shoot it out, Hyunjin stopped you. “It’s okay.”
“Maybe I’ll step on yours and we’ll get even?” He winked, a smug look on is face as he waited for your reply. The music was basically forgotten at his point, both f you lost in a world where nobody else existed, just you, your thoughts, your words, and your giggles. You mirrored his playful expression. “I’d like to see you try.”
Hyunjin didn’t break eye contact, and you felt a small flutter in your chest when he did so. He lifted his foot, but you were too quick, you moved your foot away the moment he settled his own down, and then for revenge, you stepped on his foot once again.
“Ouch!” Hyunjin shrieked, and thanks to the loud music. no one could hear him. You hadn’t stomped too hard thankfully, but Hyunjin’s cute expression when he crinkled his nose sent you into a spiral of giggles.
“Hey! You’re supposed to treat people with kindness” He pouted, twirling you around once again as he led you to the next spot in the ballroom. Your feet basically slid around at this point, and you didn’t even mind your heels.
“Yeah? That’s what you get for trying to step on a princess’ toes.” You rested your head against his shoulder, muffling your giggles as well as calming your heart at the sudden sprut of confidence.
Hyunjin’s grip on your waist tightened, making you straighten up, faint heat dusting your cheeks. The dance was almost coming to an end, and you wished it could go on forever. You hadn’t had such fun in a while, but unfortunately, Hyunjin didn’t belong to this academy. Sadly, the dance would come to an end.
“Maybe I can teach you horse riding?” Hyunjin inquired, a curious glint in his eyes as he watched your reaction. You gasped in shock.
“Y-you’d be willing to do that?”
“Of course, if you’re up for it.”
“How will we even do that?”
“I mean, you can’t tell me you haven’t sneaked out of the premises at night.”
You remained silent.
“Thought so.” Hyunjin winked again. “So, what do you say?”
You twirled around one more time, moving slightly closer to him when you came back this time. The next moment, the music stopped, and you murmured to him with a smirk pulled at your lips.
“I’d be on top of the world.”
↯ note: 🕯️ ignore me this is just a small prayer that tumblr doesn’t make me battle the tags yet again 🕯️ may the tumblr gods be in my favor atleast this once ;-; 🕯️ ⇥ dawn.☀️
#inkidz#districtninewriters#stayverse#stayhavennet#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#skz hyunjin fluff#stray kids hyunjin fluff#hyunjin fluff#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#skz scenarios#stray kids scenarios#skz x reader#skz x stay#skz x y/n#skz x you#hwang hyunjin imagines#hwang hyunjin scenarios#t:fluff#t:au#stray kids hyunjin#skz hyunjin#skz#stray kids
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Rivals
Summary: You had joined the ball and just found out you will be one of the many candidates to be Prince Todoroki’s wife. But are one of the few that The King has his eyes on. As you meet your rival at the ball, you begin to favor her more than your supposed love interest.
Warning : Reader is a girl!
Word Count: 6.5k
A/N: I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS BUT I DID IT!! So yes...The ending is very rushed BUT HEY IM TRYING OKAY. Originally “idea 1″ was supposed to be a modern au thing but I ended up making this so yeah- might make this a miniseries if I’m up for it! Uhhh ENJOY or smth
The Ball
The waltz began. Many guests, including you, entered the ballroom. As you locked arms with your father, the Lord of a noble house you became mesmerized with how majestic the ballroom was. You knew it would be large since it was a castle, but you didn’t realize how small the room would make you feel. Looking up at the gigantic chandelier that hung on the high ceiling, you wondered how many stacks of books it would take for it to reach to the top. It was filled with people, as if you were many fish in the sea. Like a flock of birds gathered around together.
Every maiden in the kingdom wanted to be here and who could blame them. But their reasoning was not the same as yours. They wanted to see the Prince. Prince Todoroki, Shoto. You didn’t want to sound so full of yourself, but you weren’t that interested in him. Of course, even you would admit he is quite attractive. Even with that scar on his face that suddenly appeared somewhere around his childhood.
But back to the topic, you never really were interested. The only reason you were excited to come here was because of the castle and its many wonders. There have been whispers of what lies within this castle. Some say ghosts of the old kings haunt this castle at night. That all the late nobles come together at night in the ballroom, when there is no light, to have an annual ball. Others say that there are secret rooms filled with the many treasures of the kingdom. Hidden away from any thieves who dare to try and steal it away. You wanted to know about it all.
As you and your father walked, you finally realized who you were approaching. The King, Todoroki Enji, and his son The Prince, Todoroki Shoto. As you slowly approached them you slowly let go of your father’s arm. Preparing to curtsy. And you did, smiling at The King when you lifted your head to look at him. You had seen him in your house somewhere during your childhood, since your father was a friend of his. But you were never allowed to go to the castle or to speak to him yourself.
.“My King, it is good to see you are doing well.” Your father greeted. The King, who others call, “Endeavor”, nodded. “Thank you, I’m glad to see you’re doing fine.” the giant man then looked at you for a quick moment before turning back to your father. “This is your daughter I presume?” He asked. Your father nodded, “This is my lovely daughter, L/N Y/N.” as your father stated your name you curtsied once more. “It is an honor to be in your presence, My King.” although you never really agreed with what the king did, and honestly you quite disliked him, the least you could do was respect him.
The King huffed, “So she is one of the candidates for the role of my young Shoto’s wife.” the statement made your eyes go wide. And you did your best to gracefully lift your head up and look at your father. Your father filled with delight agreed. “Why yes, my daughter is quite the lady. I’m sure she’d make a great wife for the young prince.” Your eyes stared at your father. A disappointed stare.
You weren’t against the idea of marriage. Although the idea of marrying a man made you uncomfortable the biggest reasons were that marriage is arranged and that it takes what little freedom you have.You wanted to be free, to see the world for what it truly was, good or bad. You wanted an adventure. An adventure where you would ride your house out into the wild and try to catch the beautiful sunset. An adventure that you could write a book about. You wanted and adventure. But of course, at the back of your mind you knew it could never be true. You were just a girl, you couldn’t do that. No matter how hard you dreamed, it could never be.
E/c eyes look towards the young Prince who didn’t even look at you. He seemed angry, maybe he didn’t want to get married either. He also looked quite sad, a tint of disappointment in his dual eyes, but you could tell it was mostly filled with frustration. You had heard that he and his father don’t get along. There were rumors that his father had something to do with the scar on the poor boy’s face. And something to do with his mother. The Prince was known to love his mother dearly. And when she was sent away that was about the same time his scar was revealed.
“Good luck competing for his heart. I advise you to do your best, since there is another candidate I believe is worthy of the royal life.” your train of thoughts stopped as he said that and you looked to him. A bit afraid of him honestly. “And who is that, if I may ask..?” you tried to speak up, but the realization of getting a husband made you tense. “Lady Yaoyorozu Momo.”
Yaoyorozu Momo. You had heard of her before. She was said to be very beautiful, intelligent, and well mannered. Everything a proper lady should be. At least that’s what most people said a lady should be. You’ve always wanted to meet her and see for yourself who she was. From what you heard she sounded quite lovely.
Nodding, you tried to clear the thoughts from your head. You just wanted to get away from this conversation as fast as you could. And then a man announced from the entrance. “Welcoming, The House of Yaoyorozu.” and there she was.
What people said about her did her justice. Hair as dark as a midnight sky. Eyes twinkled as if there were millions of stars within them. Fair and smooth porcelain skin. Soft and graceful movements. With every step she took, it looked like she was floating. Her dress flowed with her as she walked down the stairs. She looked like an angel, scratch that, a goddess from Heaven. And she took your breath away.
You couldn’t take your eyes off of her. She looked beautiful. Too good to be true. And even as you stared at her you only realized that she was near you when her Father spoke. “My King, it is good to see you again. And lord L/N, it is quite the honor to finally meet you.” the man reached out his hand and your father shook it. “I’ve heard good things about you. It is an honor to meet you as well.” your father replied, a smile gracing his face.
The Prince looked at the Lady and she smiled. And you felt a sting in your heart. Right. You are supposed to compete for The Prince’s heart. Why did that make you so sad? “My Prince, may I introduce my daughter. Yaoyorozu Momo.” and as she was introduced she curtsied. “It is an honor to be in your presence, Prince Todoroki.” The Prince simply nodded and didn’t say a word, which made you frustrated. A beautiful woman had just greeted you and all he could do was nod. Seemed quite ungrateful to you.
“Lady Yaoyrozu, this is Lady L/N. You two will be competing for The Prince’s heart.” your father placed a hand on your shoulder and gently pushed you towards her, since you were hiding behind your father as soon as she entered. You felt your heart beat out of your chest when he did and felt your face begin to burn. Yaoyorozu’s eyes widened when she saw you and you felt like you stopped breathing. You then realized the tint of red spreading across her cheeks.
“Lady L/N, I hope we can still be friends even if we are supposedly rivals!” she blurted out, she seemed a little nervous which made you laugh in relief, knowing you weren’t the only one who felt that way. “It is an honor to meet you as well, Lady Yaoyorozu. And I’d love to be your friend.” you smiled and you saw her smile back.
You and your father then bid them goodbye so that The Yaoyorozus could talk to The Todorokis And the whole time you couldn’t stop thinking about her. While in the middle of conversations with others you glanced at her a lot. Wanting to talk to her more, you just needed to find the opportunity. Then you were told to dance by your father. You never really liked dancing. Only time you did was with your mother and father, and that was rare. Whenever you would dance with someone else you always felt quite uncomfortable. It didn’t feel right. You always tried to get out of it but it seems you couldn’t this time. So you begrudgingly complied.
As you danced with the many strangers and few friends you wondered how long it would take until the dance ended. Spinning around the room and being passed to the next stranger and onto the next then the next then the next. It felt exhausting to you. Especially since some would try to start a conversation. Most of the time you would love to have a small chat but you weren’t necessarily in the mood to talk to any of the men. You closed your eyes as you were passed onto the next. And heard a small gasp when they held your waist. It didn’t feel like the touch of a man. And so you opened your eyes to find. Yaoyorozu leading the dance.
You blushed bright red as you continued to dance with her. “L-Lady Yaoyorozu! What are you doing..?” you asked as she spun you for a bit. “I just went up to the man dancing with you a while ago and was about to speak before he tossed you over to me..! I’m sorry! I grabbed your waist by instinct!!” she apologized and you laughed. “I-It’s alright! It’s just a little weird for two girls to be dancing together isn’t it?” you laughed again, for some reason you couldn’t stop smiling around her. You heard her laugh in return, and felt like you wanted to scream! In a good way. “A little. But it does feel quite nice not to have some man hold my waist a little too tightly!” she joked and you sympathized with her. There were some men who let’s say..Weren’t the best of dancers.
“We should probably get out of here. If we don’t want more people to stare at us.” you suggested noticing a few of the guests talking about the two of you and she agreed. Looking out towards a door that leads to a balcony before taking control again and spinning the two of you towards that direction. Some people noticed, but you didn’t really care. You were having too much fun to care enough about what they think.
The cool breeze hit both of your faces as you somehow managed to open the door, all while holding each other’s hand. The two of you laughing and at the same time trying to catch your breath. “Did you see that one woman’s face..? She seemed so disgusted at the sight of us dancing!! It was hilarious!!” you giggled and Momo agreed. “I know!! I don’t usually find joy in doing these things but just seeing all their faces because we were holding hands..!” you both cackled.
Catching her breath Yaoyorozu then slowly walked towards the concrete railing and looked out at the garden below. You went after her and followed her gaze. It was a statue of two young girls sitting next to each other. “That’s a lovely statue.” you commented and Yaoyorozu hummed. “They seem so calm and safe together.” The statement peeked your interest. “If I may ask…Do you not feel comfortable around others..?” you asked. Hoping it wasn’t too personal. “Well…Around some people yes haha. Don’t you as well..?” she asked and you nodded. “I hope you don’t think of me as weird, but I usually feel uncomfortable with men courting me..” The lady admitted. And you stared in bewilderment.
“You. One of the most beautiful woman I have ever ever seen does not like being courted..? That’s a bit of a surprise.” She stopped for a moment and looked at you, red spreading across her cheeks. “You..Think I’m beautiful?” she said a bit dazed.
Now you were the one blushing. “Well..Yeah I think you’re quite beautiful..I assumed you’ve been told that a million times by many men and women though…” you uttered. Playing with a strand of hair. Her lips parted for a moment before she averted your gaze “Well…Yes but I didn’t expect you to think the same…” “What do you mean..?” you questioned a bit baffled about what she had said. “Well….I didn’t think that somebody as breathtaking as you would think that I’m beautiful…I was quite shocked when you laughed at me, I thought you were going to hate me for messing up!” she confessed. A bit embarrassed as she said that.
She thought you were pretty..? The thought left you speechless. While you were at a lost for words that made Yaoyorozu assume that you didn’t like what she said. “Oh my..I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to insult you..” she apologized. You jumped and waved your hands around realizing you gave the wrong impression. “W-What!? No, no, no! I’m sorry! I was just shocked that you thought about me that way!! I-In a good way of course!!” you said, hoping to make the air less tense. “A-Ah, I see. Sorry..” she said again. “Stop saying sorry Lady Yaoyorozu, It’s not your fault. Just a little misunderstanding, yes? It’s not like you said I was ugly or anything!” she snorted but nodded.
“You know what? I know we just met but I’ve never met anyone like you.” she spoke and you smiled. “Really now? Are you just trying to flatter me or are you telling the truth?” you teased and she chuckled “I am telling the truth! I’ve never felt so safe around someone…Not in a long while at least.” she persisted. “I feel like I can do stupid things around you and you wouldn’t judge me. You’d probably laugh but you wouldn’t judge..! It’s so weird isn’t it. I’ve known you for only a couple hours and yet I feel like I can trust you with my life. It just doesn’t make sense.” she muttered. You beamed and shook your head. “Don’t worry, I feel the same way. I feel like I’ve known you for years even though I don’t even know what your favorite flower is.” you sighed.
“Asters.” she mentioned. “What?” “Asters..I think they’re quite lovely.” she said and you mouthed an ‘O’. “Well I’ll have to get you some the next time we meet then.” you noted and she turned to you smiling softly. “I’d love that. Thank you.”
Looking back at the door, you realized that you two would have to go back. Back to that…Was all that all really worth it? Just for some guy who didn’t really care about you? He’s rich, handsome, and smart, but is it really worth what you two have right now..? ”What’s wrong?” she asked, a bit concerned that you suddenly went quiet. “Do you think we’re really gonna have to fight each other just for him…?” you expressed your concern. You didn’t wanna lose her so soon. You didn’t want to lose her ever. You don’t want to let her go.
She put her hand on top of yours and spoke. “Well, we would have to fight. It’s what they want. But we won’t hate each other right? Just some friendly rivalry. I believe that we’ll stay friends, and become good friends later on no matter what happens. Don’t you feel the same..?” she asked, a bit bashful that she had said something so cheesy. But you could tell she meant every word she said.
You were once again at a lose for words. Feeling like you were on cloud 9 when she looked at you like that. She looked at you like you were the most precious thing in her life. You could tell, it was written all over her face. The faint blush you could see on her cheeks made you blush in return. The soft smile she gave left your body melting. You finally muttered a “Yes.” and couldn’t say anything else. You just stared at each other. Before your body moved on it’s own and inched towards her little by little, as you moved you noticed her copying you and moving closer as well.
Only a few inches away from each other you could feel her breath reaching your face. And as you were about to get even closer you heard the door creak. The two of you flinched and immediately backed away from each other. Creating a safe distance for people to assume you weren’t about to do what you think you were about to.
The door opened to reveal your father. “Y/N! I see you’ve become well acquainted with your rival, that is nice of you.” he said as he walked towards the two flustered women. “Ah- yes father. I believe we have..” you lingered on the last word and looked at her, and your eyes met. “Very close friends..” you added on before looking back at the tall man. He looked between the two of you and smiled. “That’s good to hear! Now I won’t have to worry about going to war with her father!’ he joked and you nervously chuckled. “Haha…Why…Yes..” you said, your voice trembling in fear of the thought.
“Lady Yaoyrozu, you must come with us. Your father has requested for you to return to his side at once.” he announced. Grabbing your hand to drag you along. You grabbed Yaoyorozu’s hand as fast as you could to make sure she wouldn’t get left behind and felt a shock of electricity coursing through you. Her eyes widened as she got dragged along with you and your father and intertwined her fingers with yours. She held your hand tighter, and it felt so right to hold her hand like this. Not wanting to let go,
But you tried not to get flustered. Not wanting your father to see you like this. Taking a deep breath and following your father’s pace. Not long after Yaoyorozu did the same. You two entered the ballroom and saw Yaoyorozu’s dad walking towards you. Yaoyorozu immediately let go of your hand and you felt a wave of sadness wash over your body. “Momo, dear. You haven’t had a chance to dance with The Young Prince yet. Remember what me and your mother told you.” the man said approaching the three of you. Yaoyorozu looked up at her father. Looking like she was about to say something before closing her mouth and saying something else instead. “Yes father, I remember.” she sighed. You looked at her worriedly. This seemed quite stressful for her.
He nodded in approval, “Good. Thank you Lady L/N, for keeping my daughter company but we must go now.” he gave a short bow before taking his daughter’s hand and pulled her away from you. Yaoyorozu looked behind her and smiled at you sadly. You waved at her and disappeared into the crowd of people, your dad leading the way as he saw a good friend and wanted to introduce you to them.
The night had suddenly went from exhilarating to exhausting in the matter of a few minutes. As soon as you bid her goodbye you felt a bit tired. You talked to a couple of people that night and none of them seemed to interest you, not as much as she did. You wanted to see her again, talk to her again, anything. You just wanted to see her, but she was nowhere to be found. As your father chatted with another friend of his you looked towards the dance floor, only maybe an hour ago the two of you were there dancing together.
Black hair caught your field of vision. Her red dress flowing with every spin and step. As he put his hand on her waist, leading the dance. The Prince and The Lady. Dancing together. Your heart stung and you looked at them. Your brain couldn’t even process a single thought. All you saw was them. You started hearing the whispers from some of the other guests. “Look at that, Lady Yaoyorozu is dancing with The Prince!!” “Ahh! Some girl is dancing with The Prince! I’m so jealous!!” “It should’ve been me..!” mixed opinions about the two of them both bad and good. But you didn’t care. That only added to the fire burning your heart. You looked at the way Yaoyorozu looked at him, gaze full of adoration and care. And you bit your lip. Wanting to scream and break the two up. You didn’t know why you were feeling this way but you did not like it one bit.
You coughed and nudged your father’s shoulder and he turned his focus to you. “Father, may I go out to get some fresh air?” you asked, trying not to sound like you were begging to get away from this. “Ah, jealous of Lady Yaoyorozu dancing with The Prince I see! Don’t worry child you’ll get your turn.” he laughed and you wanted to yell at him so bad. Holding back you smiled. “Yes, a little. But really father, may I go?” you asked again and he nodded. “Be sure to come back right away though. Maybe you’ll get to dance with The Prince later on!!”.
Not replying to your father you walked away from the ballroom, just wanting to get away from it all. Just for a little bit. You wondered if you should go to the balcony knowing it would make you feel worse. But you went anyway. Opening the doors and being greeted with the cold breeze again. You sighed and closed the gigantic doors. “Oh, hello.” somebody greeted and you flinched. Swiftly turning your head to see who it was. It was The Princess, Todoroki Fuyumi. Your eyes widened as you laid eyes on her.
Beautiful white hair with strands of red within them, a shade of gray for her eyes. She looked magical. As if you were wandering through a forest and found a mythical creature. You stuttered, knowing you had to greet her but not finding the courage to move. “A-Are you alright? You seem quite startled..” she commented. “S-Sorry! Your majesty!!” you sputtered and curtsied as gracefully as you could. Something was wrong with you today. She jumped, a bit surprised and laughed at the sudden movement “It’s alright. I’d be startled as well. No need for the formalities.” she said kindly.
You blushed, embarrassed that you were so nervous in front of The Princess. “Please, lift your head up.” she requested, and you hesitantly lifted your head up to find her in front of you lending a hand. You gulped but took it, why is everyone’s hands so soft? She leaded you to the railing and you both gazed on the garden. “Uhm..Your Majesty.” you started. “Please, just call me Fuyumi. I really don’t mind.” she chuckled. “Oh..Okay..Well then..Princess Fuyumi uhm..” you mumbled. “Why are you here? The only people I’ve really seen at the party is The King and The Prince..Aren’t you and The other Prince supposed to attend as well…?” you asked.
She sighed and looked at the fountain, rather sadly. “Oh- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ask such a personal question!!” you exclaimed and she jumped, startled, again. “No no it’s okay! It’s just..” she stopped. Smiling sadly. "It’s a bit private..But I’m here because the party just seemed..A bit tense to me.” she sighed again and you nodded. “What about you? Oh I’m sorry I haven’t even asked for your name!” Fuyumi smiled. “Oh..I just wanted some fresh air haha it seems a little crowded in there.” you stated. Fuyumil laughed, a soft and gentle laugh. “It is expected, since we don’t throw parties much, and..Since Shoto is to look for a bride…” her gaze softened and she frowned.
“is..The Prince not fond of the idea of marriage?” you said out loud, not really realizing you did. Fuyumi’s eyebrows lifted and before you could apologize she spoke. “Well, not really. I truly do believe he wants a family as much as the next person. The thing is..It’s chosen by father.” she explained and you shut up. “He has expressed how he doesn’t want to be engaged just yet and wants to marry who he wants. But of course, Father won’t allow it.” she bit her lip and clenched her fist a bit. “Father wants Shoto to rule the kingdom, so I’m not surprised that he’s already searching for a suitable bride.” she turned to you and saw your worried expression. Laughing she brushed It off. “Apologies, I did not mean to say so much.” she waved her hand a little. “No it’s alright! I’m a bit glad you told me, at least now I understand why The Prince was acting that way.” Fuyumi hummed and rested her cheek on her hand. “Now you still haven’t told me your name…” your eyes widened as you realized you still haven’t told her. “Oh- Sorry! It’s L/N..”
Fuyumi smiled. “L/N Y/N..I believe I’ve heard of you before.” she said. Your eyes widened in surprise that she knew your first name. “Y/N…A lovely name.” she complimented and you blushed. “T-Thank you, Princess Fuyumi.” you thanked her. Fuyumi looked at the doors leading to the party. “How about I introduce you to my brother? I’m sure you two would be good friends.” your heart stopped, and not in the good way that you liked. As you looked at the door sadly as well. Fuyumi noticed and it clicked. “Oh..Oh my I’m sorry I didn’t realize..” you shook your head. “No it’s alright. I should get used to it.” you let out a breathy laugh.
The lady with hair as white as now frowned. “Do you not want to get married as well?” she asked. You rested your arms on the railings. Looking at the statue of the two girls that Yaoyorozu had mentioned. “I’m not sure. I feel like I do want to get married. Spending my whole life with someone who makes me truly happy sounds delightful but..” you looked downcast and you felt your heart sink. “But..?” Fuyumi repeated. You sighed, “But…I can’t imagine myself getting married to anyone…Whenever I do it just..Doesn’t feel right..” Fuyumi hummed. “Maybe you haven’t found the right person yet.” she encouraged. Images of Yaoyorozu then filled your thoughts and you closed your eyes. “Maybe.” is all you said.
The Princess took your hand and your eyes shot open. “Do you wanna go back inside? We can even go together!” she encouraged. You smiled at her optimism. Although you didn’t really feel prepared, you felt a bit safe around her. She was The Princess. And if this would help you clear your thoughts a little, why not. So you decided to go. Fuyumi closed the doors and walked with you then she locked her arms with yours. Making your cheeks flush red. Yet you replicated the gesture and tried to regain your composure. Arm in arm you both entered the party. As you did you felt the stares of the other party guests and the small whispers that came along with it. You gulped but that only made The Princess’ grip a bit tighter, as if reassuring you that you’ll be okay.
The gesture helped you relax a bit. “Are you okay with talking to other guests right now?” she asked. You were confused as to why she wanted to talk to other guests with you but you nodded. As long as she was there and led the conversation you should be fine. Fuyumi leaded you around the ballroom talking to many other guests, introducing you to new people. It helped you take your mind off of things for a bit, but you still wondered where Yaoyorozu was. You chatted with more and more people. And you felt quite busy.
It was nearly the end of the ball, maybe a few minutes until it would end. As you were listening to a story that one of Fuyumi’s friends was telling, The Princess tapped her shoulder. “Is it okay if I steal Y/N for a moment?” hearing your first name come from Fuyumi’s mouth was a bit shocking, even though she was referring to you as such the entire time. The girl agreed and Fuyumi stole you away from her. Locking arms with you and taking you to where The King was. “P-Princess Fuyumi, where are we going..?” you asked even though you were fully aware of where you were going.
“To my father, I want to introduce you to him.” she said happily and you grimaced. The King seemed to notice his daughter walking over to him and turned his focus to the two of you, dismissing whoever he was talking to. Fuyumi smiled sweetly at her father, even though he did not return it. “Good evening Father.” she greeted and the two of you curtsied at the same time. Lifting your heads up at the same time as well, only she was looking directly at her father while you looked the other way. She locked arms with you once more. “I wanted to introduce you to a friend, Lady L/N Y/N.” she said, as if this was the first time you two met. You sighed but smiled up at the giant man. “It is an honor to see you again, My King.”
The King huffed, “It is good to see you too.” Fuyumi looked between the two of you. “Ah! You two have already met...I see. My apologies then, Father.” she said nervously. “I don’t mind.” he said, noticing you two locking arms. “You’ve become quite close I take it.” he commented, he was probably expecting you to answer since he was looking directly at you. “Yes Your Majesty, I believe me and Princess Fuyumi have become quite close.” King Todoroki glared a bit at Fuyumi, and while that sent a shiver down both of your spines Fuyumi seemed to be less afraid. “Why is she calling you by your first name?” he asked, a bit annoyed. “I asked her to, Father. Don’t get mad at her.” she said in a clear voice. They stared at each other for a few moments until it seemed as If he let it go.
Another guest approached the three of you and Fuyumi asked to be excused. Her Father agreed and she dragged you away. “That went well.” Fuyumi happily spoke. “Are you kidding? I felt like he was going to kill me just by his stare!” you whisper shouted. “Father can..Be quite..Aggressive..B-But I’m sure he means well!” Fuyumi tried to reassure you. But you weren’t sure if it was helping. “I want to see your father before the night ends and tell him how wonderful you are haha!” You blushed at the compliment. Why do you keep blushing. “Fuyumi why are you doing this for me?” you asked, laughing a bit at what she had said. Fuyumi looked directly at you for a moment before speaking. As if she was thinking of what to say. “Because, you seem like a nice person and I want to get to know you better.” she smiled. You felt a bit relieved for some reason.
Looking around the ballroom you searched for your father with Fuyumi, but couldn’t find him. And then the clock had struck and King Todoroku had given his closing speech. The ball was coming to an end. As guests bid each other goodbye you and Fuyumi wondered where your father was. “Oh goodness, where is your father?” she said in between bidding her guests. “I don’t know…” “Lady L/N…?”
You swiftly turned your head to see Yaoyorozu walking towards you in all her glory. “A-Ah, Lady Yaoyorozu.” you let go of Fuyumi’s arm and walked to her. “What are you doing here Lady Yaoyorozu? Where is your Father?” you asked her in concern. “I was looking for you. I wanted to say goodbye before I had to go. I thought you would’ve went with your Father by now but he was waiting outside..” she said. So that’s where he was. “Oh alright. Thank you then!” you smiled. “Princess Fuyumi! I know where my father is!” you called out. She turned her head and bowed quickly to the person she was talking to and ran over to you.
“P-Princess?” Yaoyorozu stuttered. “Princess Todoroki! Your higness! It is an honor to finally meet you!” Yaoyorozu quickly curtsied. ‘Cute.’ you thought. “It is an honor to meet you too, Lady Yaoyorozu.” Fuyumi smiled. “Now Y/N, let’s get you to your father, I want to see you off! Lady Yaoyorozu please do tag a long!” Fuyumi offered. Yaoyorozu’s eyes widened looking between you and Fuyumi.Her brows furrowed for a moment before she loosened up, she seemed to have brush off whatever she was thinking. “Of course, Your Majesty!” she said, her voice calm this time. Fuyumi walked, a hand on your shoulder and Yaoyorozu followed, walking beside you as well.
You looked down at Yaoyorozu’s hand wanting to hold it until. “Y/N! There you are.” your father’s voice boomed through the room. Your father bowed before Princess Fuyumi and he thanked her for keeping you company. While he did Yaoyorozu quickly leaned in close to your ear and whispered, “I’ll write a letter to you when I get home. It was nice spending some time with you, Y/N.” she said, before walking away to her father. You blushed at her saying your first name and you felt dizzy, in a good way..? “Y/N? What’s wrong? You seem red..!” Fuyumi spoke and you laughed. “W-What? O-OH! Sorry!! haha..” you exclaimed looking back at the direction Yaoyorozu walked away from. Fuyumi looked at where you were looking and she was still confused. She hugged you anyways and you returned the gesture, feeling like you were about to ascend into heaven at any moment. “I’ll see you soon, Y/N!” she smiled and let go. Bidding your Father goodbye before running off to the hall,a couple of guards following her on the way.
“Y/N, let’s go. Your mother would want to hear all about what happened.” he laughed, taking your hand and guiding you through the halls. Guards following behind you. “She sure will.” you agreed. Already knowing that you will be bombarded with questions when you get home. “So, did you have fun tonight? You must be sad that you didn’t get to dance with The Prince.” he said. You looked up at him, and thought about everything that happened. “I had fun today, Father. My rival is quite lovely.” Your father raised a brow, “You do know you will have to fight each other dear.” you shrugged. “She’s my friend papa, I can tell that that won’t come between us.”
#yaoyorozu x reader#momo yaoyorozu x you#yaoyorozu momo x reader#yaoyorozu x you#yaoyorozu x self insert
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A Royal New Year Party
Word Count: Around 2,400
Plot: After getting done planning a New Year’s Eve party, Cedric meets a man that makes the sorcerer question his relationship with you.
Warnings: Angst and language
Author’s Note: This just came to me cause people used to be such jerks to my ex about us being a couple. So, kinda personal and kinda just I adore Cedric and want my baby to know he’s loved.
Author’s Note note: Okay, so I had another fic like this but I’m finally gonna address it; the world is set in our time so there are cell phones and stuff. I know I changed it from the show, but it was just easier for me. Also, this is gonna be the last fic for a few days. tbh, I haven’t even started the next ones, but I do have outlines. Hope you enjoy and happy New Year!!!
Reader pronouns: she/her
A Royal New Year Party
Here it is, the greatest party of every year. The royal family’s enchanted New Year’s Eve party was only a few hours away.
“Cedric, could you please conjure another bouquet of roses?”
“Cedric, can you please just conjure one more turkey? The chef ran out of bird, so he is begging you to make one; but please don’t tell the King!”
“Cedric, can you put the floating plates over here?”
“Cedric, can you conjure a few more chairs?”
“Cedric, where is god’s name is that turkey!?”
Yes, these were the sounds the poor sorcerer had been listening to all day. Everyone and their chef have been pestering him. He was in the middle of all the bustling and rustling. Things at been nonstop for hours and he was getting sick of it. The past day, he had been conjuring plates, chairs, ovens, instruments, and everything in between to make this party amazing. King Roland expected the very best to wow his guests, so he wanted Cedric not only to create dozens of items, but to enchant everything.
The King wanted enchanted chairs that could sway with the music, enchanted instruments that could play on their own to give the orchestra a break, and enchanted silverware that could dazzle the guests with dancing and singing. It was quite complicated to cast spell after spell (especially enchanted ones) and it was beginning to tire the man.
Cedric was finishing up one more spell when he heard footsteps behind him.
“Well done, Cedric!” The king boomed from behind the sorcerer, scaring him out of his wits.
“Thank you, your majesty. I am honored.” He said, turning and bowing his head.
“You’re very welcome, things are coming along nicely. Now, since you’ve been working all day, have you given any thought to what you have planned tonight?”
Cedric lifted his shoulder in a half shrug.
“No, I haven’t really thought of anything.”
“Well then,” Roland paused, gesturing to all the gold and black decorations, “why don’t the two of you celebrate the new year with us? I’m sure y/n would love it.”
“I-we would love to and I greatly appreciate the offer,” Cedric started, “but I think we are going to celebrate the new year just the two of us.”
Roland gave Cedric a disappointed look.
“Alright, if you insist. We will all miss you and y/n. If you change your mind, you guys are welcome.”
“Thank you, your highness.” He said, beginning to walk out of the ballroom through majestic, golden doors.
Cedric trudged through the halls of the castle. He came across the coffee shop on the corner of the ballroom and royal dining hall and scurried into line to get a cup.
Workers of all types stood back to front. One man wearing a blue vest, top hat, and holding a scepter in his hands was in front of cedric.
“Hello, sir. The name’s Jonathan” The man greeted the sorcerer. His eyes seemed warm and inviting enough to talk to.
“Oh, hello.” Cedric answered, barely shaking his head to try, and come to consciousness.
“What do you do around here, fine man?”
“I’m the royal sorcerer for Enchantcia. You may know me by Cedric the Sensational?”
The man looked perplexed for a minute, then, as if realization came down from the gods, Jonathan’s face turned up and Cedric could see the lightbulb come on.
“Oh yes! You are the one who tried taking over the kingdom a few years back!”
Cedric cringed.
“Yes, I am.” He said, trying hard not to recall those memories but nevertheless, remembered them vividly.
“My, I was sure good old Kind Roland would have you executed for that!”
“Oh yes, didn’t we all?” Cedric rolled his eyes.
“And the way the towns folk talked about you, it musta been hard to show you face around them parts for a while, eh?”
“Eh.” Cedric sarcastically parroted back.
“Why, never in my wildest dreams would old Winnie and Goodwin’s kiddy ever try a stunt like that.”
“Yes, quite,” Cedric paused, narrowing his eyes at the man, “foolish of me.”
“You know, your father saved old’ king Roland’s daddy from a few monsters like yourself!”
“yes, yes, I know. Oh look, you’re at the counter, time to order now.” Cedric rushed.
“Oh, look at that. Hi, ma’am, I’ll have a…”
Once the man had finished ordering, cedric got up to the counter and ordered a cold caramel frappe. After, he went to sit down and wait. The bustling of people became a background noise and Cedric finally got some peace. While he sat and tried to unwind-
“There you are good buddy!” The same talkative man said, jostling over to Cedric.
“Here I am.”
After a long talk about Cedric’s wrongs, the man began to inquire about Cedric’s personal life.
“So, I doubt after your long, ungrateful journey back to civilized living hadn’t brought you company of any kind?”
Cedric believed the man meant a significant other but wasn’t really sure.
“Pardon?”
“A woman! Have you gotten yourself a woman?!”
Cedric gave the man a blank stare and leaned away from his sudden enthusiasm. Why in god’s name does this man want to know so much about him? He thought about telling him or not. If I do, he’s going to go on how I don’t deserve someone, or not believe me entirely. And why does he just presume I have a woman? Has the man never heard of two men living happily together? Why does this man care so much about my life?
“I do have a significant other.” Cedric finally let out.
“Well for heavens sakes, how the hell did you get one?”
“Well, we met over a year ago and- “
“No one in her right mind would want you. You’re so unstable compared to others your age. Eh, she’s probably just waiting’ on someone better anyways.”
Cedric was now completely offended and didn’t really know how to answer. Without saying another word, he rose to get his coffee from the counter and left.
On his walk home, Cedric began thinking.
I have been with Y/N for almost a year. I don’t deserve her. Does she even want to be with me? Maybe I’ve just fooled myself into thinking she really loves me when all this time she’s only stayed around cause there’s no one else. Maybe he’s right, maybe it was just weird I found her. She probably is just waiting for someone better to come along and leave…I’ve done so much wrong, maybe she doesn’t even want me?
After his long debate, Cedric headed upstairs to his tower. The stone walls felt cold against cedric’s fingers as he guided himself up three floors of spiraled stairs. He looked out one of the windows to see the sun turning orange as it set over glistening red trees. It was beautiful in Enchantcia tonight. After looking for only a minute, he started back up the stairs.
Once he had made it to the door, he took a big breath and he walked in to find his girlfriend sitting crisscrossed on a table. You were wearing Black lacy shorts with flowers embroidered along with a spaghetti strapped top that matched. Trying to pick up your phone off the floor, you were dangling from the edge. You grabbed your phone and looked up to see your boyfriend.
“Ceddy! You’re finally home.” You smiled, jumping off the table onto your sorcerer. Your hair was in a messy bun and fluffed up into his face when you grabbed onto him for a hug.
“Hello, Angel.”
“I’ve been missing you all day.” You said, snuggling in tighter.
“I have too. Oh, this is for you.” He said, giving you a hot mocha.
Your smile widened. “Thank you!” After grabbing the hot beverage from him, you look a sip, and placed it on the table.
“You look tired.”
“I am tired.” Cedric laughed, hugging you. He was happy to be home to you until he started remembering the conversation he had with Jonathan.
Noticing him grow somber, you asked him if he was okay.
Cedric hesitated, “Yes, just tired I think.”
“Okay, why don’t you take a nap?” You asked, still having a questioning look on your face.
“I may.”
You kissed him gently on the cheek and made sure he got to the bedroom. Closing the door behind you, you decided to grab a book and read until he woke.
…
After a few hours, you decided to check on Cedric. You wanted to make sure he was okay after what happened earlier.
Walking into the bedroom, you found your boyfriend already awake on his phone.
“Hello.” You greeted, walking along the side of the bed.
Cedric nodded at you.
Carefully, you made you way to the upper part of the bed and sat down. Noticing his standoffish actions, you scooted closer to him.
“Babe, what’s wrong? Please, tell me.” You quietly pleaded.
He looked over at you with glassy eyes. His face was full of pain, but you just couldn’t put a finger on what upset him.
“Did I say or do something?”
“No.” He answered, shifting away from you slightly.
“Cedric, tell me what’s wrong.” You grabbed his hand and put it on your lap.
He ran his other hand through his hair, and you noticed his shoulders tense.
“Y/n,” he paused, his voice almost choking, “why-why do you stay here?”
You became confused.
“What?”
“Why do you stay here…with me?”
“I don’t u- “
“You have been with me for almost a year, and for merlin’s sake I have no idea why you stay.”
“I love you.” You said, without thinking twice.
Cedric’s eyes met yours.
“I love you, but I just don’t see how you could love me.”
You could feel the sting of tears in your eyes.
“Cedric, how could you not see- “
“Do you know what I am?”
You stared at him, “Do I know what you are?”
“Yes. Do you know what I am?”
You ran your hand up his arm gently, “You’re mine.”
“No. I mean, do you understand what I’ve done? I’ve tried overthrowing the kingdom, I plotted against the royal family for years. Everything had a terrible motive, everything I did was selfish, I dreamed of making others bow before me. I am not a good person.”
“Cedric! Of course, I know that. I’ve always known all of that. I love you for you. You are a good person now, and I don’t care about your past, I love you for everything you are and once was.”
Cedric looked down then he cocked his head.
“Once was?”
You took a breath.
“Cedric, I’ve never admitted it, but I really don’t care you tried overthrowing the kingdom. It’s not healthy, I know, but sometimes I think my love for you is stronger than my morals.” You laughed nervously. “You are my person, my lobster, as some show would say, and no matter what, I love you. I’m not saying what you did was right, but because I love you, I overlook it easily.”
He grabbed ahold of your hand and you wrapped your arm around him. He hugged you back tightly and you knew he felt better. You kissed the side of his cheek and laid you head on his chest.
“What even made you think of that, love?”
“Nothing, I guess I just will never quite get used to you being mine.”
The two of you sat in silence for a minute, then cedric turned towards you.
“The royal family is having a party tonight to bring in the new year. I was wondering if you would want to go. The King invited us.”
You beamed a smile.
“I’d love to!”
About an hour later, the two of you were walking down the hall towards the ballroom.
Once you arrived, you were greeted by a loud orchestra and babbling voices. The room was full of women in suits and dresses and men in the same attire. It was an extravagant gathering with gold and black streamers lining the walls and draping over the ceiling. At the front of the room sat the orchestra with its self-playing instruments and band members walking about. Some guests sat on floating chairs and plates that followed behind others walking. Workers hurried around, grabbing dirty, golden silverware.
Cedric and you started over to the royal table when Sofia came running over.
“Mr. Cedric! Miss. Y/n! I’m so happy you guys could come.” She shouted over the music, running up and giving Cedric a hug followed by yours.
“I’m glad we could. Please tell your father that we are very grateful.” You said to the young girl wearing the pink amulet.
“I will. Are you guys going to sit down? There’s two chairs next to me.”
“Yes, we are. We’ll be over in a minute. Thanks again.”
“No problem.” Sofia replied, running off to greet the other guests.
You had almost made it over to the table when a loud voice practically yelled at Cedric.
“Cedric! There you are old buddy!”
Cedric’s shoulders stiffened again.
“Hello, Jonathan.”
“Who you got with you?”
“This is y/n, she’s my girlfriend.”
The man looked you over and made you rather uncomfortable.
“Oh my god! She’s beautiful! What the hell did you have to bribe her to come with?”
Your eyes flung wide open and you gasp.
“What?” You asked in a flat tone.
“No offense to you ma’am, You’re beautiful! I’m just wondering’ how he got someone like you,” he glanced at Cedric, “with his past and all.”
You shot Jonathan an angry look.
“For your information, I love this man with all my heart and want to be with him for who he is. If you can’t accept that then you can just kindly leave us alone!” You snapped.
The man looked shocked.
“Well, I guess if you’re happy- “
“I am happy. Thank you.”
“It was nice seeing you again old buddy.”
“A pleasure really.” Cedric smiled, wrapping his arm around you.
The two of you began walking away. You couldn’t believe how rude he had been. Before you had gotten too far, you were boiling over with anger and wanted that man to know you adored Cedric. Suddenly, you whipped around to make sure he was still watching. You grabbed Cedric by the collar and kissed him firmly on the lips.
Jonathan looked horrified at you. You gave a sarcastic smile at him and turned back around.
“Jackass.” You spat out under your breath.
“You have no idea.” Cedric agreed, placing his arm back around you tightly.
“I truly do love you, y/n.”
“I love you too, Cedric.”
Cedric and you made it to the table and joined the royal family. Later, the two of you along other couples shared a passionate kiss at 12am to welcome the new year.
#Cedric the sorcerer x reader#cedric the sensational x reader#cedric the sorcerer#cedric imagine#cedric x reader#Cedric is perfect and no one can change my mind#Fluffy#angst#angst with a happy ending#cute#happy new year#not my anything#terrible writing#probably needs editing#love all my followers#thanks for the support#this fic made me believe i am a bad writer lol#new fanfic writer#fanfic
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Dance (Diavolo x Reader)
Of all the arts, dance is the most wonderful. And of all the entertainers that Lord Diavolo has seen in his time on the throne, you know that you will be the one to capture his interest. The art of dance is simply too beautiful, and you are simply too good at it. But while Diavolo doubtlessly appreciates your skill, he seems to be developing an interest in something else: you.
~Oneshot
MASTERLIST
It's about the movement. The hips as they trace the most exotic of shapes; the hands as they push and pull like the tides; the back as it arches over a bridge of emotion.
It's about the expression. The eyes as they lock with every viewer; the breathing as it falls in line with the beat; the sultry smiles as they disappear quicker than they arrive.
It's about the energy. The flames of passion that burn inside; the overwhelming zeal that overcomes all exhaustion; the eternal spirit of vivacity that never truly stops.
Dance.
Your eyes burn with passion at the very word, a sudden itch to break out into movement overwhelming your senses. But this is not the time for that. You keep your body perfectly still as you walk forward, each step taken so gracefully that it looks like you're floating.
"You are nervous," Barbatos comments, halting before the door that will doubtlessly lead you to the demon lord. He glances back at you from the corner of his eye.
To the ordinary observer, his face is perfectly placid: not a drop of emotion anywhere on the flawless skin. But you are a dancer, trained in the art of expression. Even he cannot hide the soft affection that lurks in the deep greens of his eyes.
"I am," You respond. "But only because I have not yet begun."
The edges of his lips curve upward at that, and Barbatos pushes open the door leading inside the hall. It's almost entirely empty, sparsely decorated with the skulls of various animals, and on another occasion, you might stop to marvel at them—but not right now. After all, why would you look at the bones of the dead when something much more magnificent and very much alive stands right in front of you?
Your eyes purposefully rise from the butler's shoulder, stealing a glance at the demon lord that you've seen so many sculptures of.
He is even more majestic in the flesh.
Lord Diavolo's presence is overwhelming. You can feel his gaze on you as you train your eyes on the floor, respectfully bowing as low as you can manage. It's a practiced move, one your body learned to perfection when you were just a child, but you can't help but think that bowing has never been more important in your life than now.
"Rise," Lord Diavolo orders, his deep voice filling the hall. It almost sounds like music, you think, quietly realizing that it would be the most whole sound you've ever danced to. Beautiful, rich music.
"Look at me."
You raise your eyes.
Millennia of training have made it such that your neutral face truly is expressionless, all your emotion reserved for when your body breaks forth into dance. But it's never been more difficult to keep a still face than now, as you try to hide your awe. The prince's eyes are unlike anything you've ever seen: burning a brilliant orange, bright as amber but dipped in bronze all the same, two intense suns that seem to light up the room when you look into them.
The eyes of a king.
You maintain your neutral expression, not failing to recognize the way the demon lord stares at you for longer than is necessary, likely trying to make you uncomfortable. But you know that it's simply a ruse to see if you will break, as the many who have come before you.
You remain still, unflinching as the prince observes you.
If what Barbatos has told you is true, then this is the moment where the prince makes his first decision: whether to give you a chance or not. It is an honor to entertain the demon lord, acting king of the Devildom. Only one in a thousand make it past this threshold, and many of your childhood teachers had been turned away by this man's father, told that their hearts were too weak to properly hold the demon lord's interest.
But after a moment, Lord Diavolo's eyes lose the cold, calculating look that attempts to see into the soul you've hidden away so carefully, and the oranges fade into a softer shade, one of acceptance and anticipation.
"Dance."
The first test is passed.
The moment the word falls from the prince's lips, the sound of his command is replaced by the jingle of the bells laced around your feet.
You see his eyes widen, evidently not having noticed that they were even there in the first place—though that's more a testament to your personal skill than the demon lord's own attention to detail.
Where you had once held your feet perfectly steady, letting them practically melt into the ground as you walked and hid the presence of the chimes that wrap around your ankles, you now set them free, embracing the movement that you yearned for not five minutes ago. Your legs jump and lift and kick and spin, every motion accompanied by a particular sound that forms the rhythm to which your arms move. You close your eyes, allowing your feet to fall into a new beat, one that is eternally changing, as is fit for someone who wishes to eternally entertain a prince.
You forget the fear you had when entering this room—why were you nervous in the first place? Of all the arts, dance is the most wonderful. And of all the entertainers that Lord Diavolo has seen in his time on the throne, you know you will be the one to capture his interest. For even if he does not care for the personality you have hidden away, it is impossible to lose interest in the art of dance. Particularly, your dance.
A confident smile springs to your lips as you lock eyes with the demon lord. He hides his expressions well, even better than Barbatos. But none can hide from a dancer. You are one with expression, and only the dead can keep secrets from you. The silent wonder in Lord Diavolo's eyes as he watches your body move sets your insides afire with bliss, heart blazing with euphoria.
You turn your body, breaking eye contact with the prince in favor of returning your attention to your dance. You do not move to a routine, or any preset motions that inhibit your ability to be free. No, the dance you perform for Lord Diavolo is unlike one the world has ever seen. Unlike one you have ever seen.
It is a dance fit for a king: masterful, unique, and utterly irreplicable.
Your clothes move perfectly around you, a second skin that adds flourish to your movements. You utilize every fabric on your body to enhance your dance. Nothing is wasted; nothing is forgotten. Even the single earring that dangles from your left ear is purposeful, moving to the beat as your neck arches.
Perfection.
A hand thrust outward raises the white silk draped around your shoulders up, and it falls delicately as your arm withdraws, only for the same process to repeat on your other arm. All the while, the loose fabric of your pants fills with air, lifting and dropping to make you look less like a demon and more like a magnificent dove, flapping your wings in the most mesmerizing dance Lord Diavolo has ever seen.
You spin, relishing in the way the tips of your hair fly up as you do so. The single earring on your left ear dangles dangerously, and you can tell that Lord Diavolo is waiting for it to fall, waiting for you to make a mistake that will compel him to send you out of his throne room, yet the pearl only taunts him, swaying like a pendulum as your body arches seductively.
No.
You pull yourself back, drawing your body into a spin to cover up what would have been a move far too bold for someone of your stature, returning your dance to the quick jumps and deft movements that flaunt your agility, continuing on in that fashion.
By the time the hour has ended, there are droplets of sweat running down your face, falling onto the stone floor that your bare feet never touch for too long.
But you're far from tired.
Every movement is exhilarating, muscles only burning brighter with need as you flex them and withdraw, every fiber of your being longing to do more.
But Lord Diavolo stops you.
"Enough."
The word rings loudly in the room, and the chime of the bells around your ankles isn't heard once after his order falls upon your ears, your body instantly moving to obey as you spin into a bow, low on one knee as you touch the floor with your hands and keep your eyes closed.
You don't need to look at the prince to know that he is still entirely enraptured by your performance.
"Barbatos, let us leave. It is time for the student council meeting."
You keep your gaze pointed at the ground to avoid any potential offense to the demon lord, not daring to take so much as a heavy breath in his presence. The sound of receding footsteps ends with the slam of a door, and you stay looking at the ground for a little while longer, before you consider it safe to raise your head.
Stunning, you think, gazing at the throne where the demon lord sat, watching you. Truly a throne fit for a king.
You glance around the room, eyes darting from skeleton to skeleton. At the front, on the right side and closest to the prince's throne, is the skull of a dragon. It's immense, easily double your height and twice as long, and it almost makes you wish you were older, so that you might have seen one of these magnificent creatures in the flesh.
Next to the dragon skull is the head of what you can only imagine to be a sea serpent, from the winding neck that has partially broken off. Behind that is the infamous Kraken, and further behind are a series of small unicorns—you know from your history lessons that those are the bones of the last ones to walk the hells—and you're just about to glance at the skulls on the other side when the sound of a door opening falls upon your ears.
You quickly turn your head back to the ground, staring forward with your usual unreadable mask adorned.
"I saw that," A voice calls, somewhat mischievous. And the laid-back inflection of the words confirms that the man is alone, and you spring to your feet, dropping your mask of composure.
"Barbatos!" You exclaim, turning around with a wide grin. The tension you had in your shoulders when you both were entering is now gone, and nothing restrains your usual cheer. You run over to him, the bells on your feet jingling with every step, and throw your arms around his neck, nearly tackling him to the floor.
"Easy," He murmurs into your ear, still reserved compared to you, but you can see a slight twinkle in his eyes as he holds you. "Lord Diavolo instructed me to see you back to your quarters. He seems to be worried that you tired yourself out earlier."
"Didn't you tell him that—"
"Of course I informed him that you would never tire so easily. But the prince has never had a dancer for his entertainer, so he did not believe me."
You chuckle at that, understanding where Lord Diavolo is coming from. Perhaps, when you were younger, you might have been tired after a full hour of nonstop movement. But now? You often practice from early morning till late night, challenging yourself to never leave your feet on the ground for more than a few seconds at a time for as long as there are demons up and about.
"And did the prince say anything else?" You ask quietly, following Barbatos as he leads you out of the room. "Like…" You swallow, bashfully turning away.
"Do you really need to hear it?" Barbatos lets out a low chuckle, pausing in his footsteps to look back at you. "If you must know, yes, Lord Diavolo has requested to see you tomorrow as well."
"Yes!" You shout, jumping. Glee washes over you like a tidal wave, encompassing all your senses as you ignore every thought of propriety to wrap Barbatos in another crushing hug, causing him to momentarily stagger as you cling to him like a koala.
"Cease this. You are heavy enough as is, and those bells on your feet add far too much weight. Gods know how you manage to walk in those," He mutters, pushing you away from him as he leads you to what you imagine must be your chambers.
But even as he feigns a look of displeasure, you can see the way Barbatos suppresses a smile at your antics, and when he catches you staring at him, he turns his face away altogether, knowing that you can see past his facade.
"Anyway," He coughs, using a key to unlock a stony door located close to the throne room. "This will be your room. You will only be staying in here if Lord Diavolo explicitly tells you to rest or if there are guests in the throne room. Otherwise, you will be expected to remain in the throne room at all times, just as you had remained when we left."
You nod your head, following along.
"Make sure that you are ready at a moment's notice to entertain Lord Diavolo. There will be times when he will call for you, and you will not be prepared. Should such a thing happen, drop everything immediately and go to him. He will know if you keep him waiting, and he will replace you instantly should you be insolent enough to do so."
Barbatos's tone is sharp, his instructions painfully meticulous and to-the-point as he continues to fill your ears with explanations of how to behave around the prince, how to act when in the presence of others, how to conduct yourself while in the palace.
"And remember," He tells you, voice slightly softer. "Do your best, but should you make any mistake, come to me. No matter what, I will fix it." The demon brings a hand to your cheek, forcing you to meet his uncharacteristically gentle eyes. "There are no lengths I won't go to for the sake of your happiness."
"I know, Barbatos." You wrap him into a hug. "You've proven that."
***
Diavolo is quick to learn the extent of your capabilities.
The first day, where he had you dance for an hour and then sent you to your room to rest? That was a one-time thing. On the second day, he crossed his arms in front of you and ordered you with that bellowing voice of his to "Dance," and so you did. Only that time, he did not stop you. Nor did he take his eyes off of you. From morning to evening, you danced for him, transitioning from a high-paced rhythm to a slow ballet in the middle to even a human-style dance at the end, which seemed to hold him particularly enthralled.
Only when the demon called Lucifer came in to speak with him did he permit you to take a temporary break, but his eyes lit up when he saw the grace with which you fell to your knees, quickly realizing that despite having danced for hours, you still had energy in you.
Since then, he hasn't held back in the slightest, ordering you to dance in every spare moment he has.
Barbatos tells you that it's a good thing, that it means you've managed to give him something to look forward to in his otherwise boring life. That you've blessed his immortal curse with your presence, and he's finally found something he can enjoy.
Yet the longer you dance for Lord Diavolo, the more his eyes take the shape of a predator.
"Dance," He orders you today, not hiding the way his eyes skirt over your body, lingering on the spots of exposed skin. It makes you shudder, the way he gazes at you as if you're a feast—and yet it sets your senses aflame all the same, and when your feet begin moving, the dance you perform is more sensual than anything you've ever shown this man.
You close your eyes purposefully, drawing in a sharp breath that you make certain Diavolo can hear as you arch your back, leaning back until your hair sweeps the floor, before pushing upward and using the momentum to pull you into a spin.
As your body turns, though, your eyes drop from Diavolo and you catch the gaze of Barbatos as he stares at you in shock, never having seen you move so suggestively.
Your eyes widen momentarily, and for a moment, you almost worry that you'll fall off-beat, but then Barbatos's expression is masked and you force yourself to complete the turn, propelling your leg forward as you fall in rhythm and try to transition the dance into something more light. More childish. More appropriate.
"Stop," Lord Diavolo orders. You spin into a bow once more, one knee on the ground as you stare at the stones on your feet, wondering whether the demon lord saw how you almost slipped up.
For the first time since you began dancing for him, your body feels tense with fear as you try to calm the sick feeling in your stomach.
"Leave us, Barbatos."
There's a moment of hesitation—and you can almost sense Barbatos's immediate fury at the prince's words for making such a cruel command. For forcing him to leave the room, for forcing him to leave you alone to handle the prince's whims. And yet, the demon butler can do nothing but obey, and you hear his footsteps trail out of the room, punctuated by the sound of a door closing with such gentleness that you can sense the resentful mockery behind the gesture.
"Rise. And speak. Does having Barbatos here disturb you?" The demon lord's sharp gaze bores into you as you rise to stand in a single, fluid motion. The man's expression is something between disdain and indifference, and you realize that you have no clue what he is thinking—and that the truth will have to suffice.
"No, my lord."
"You looked at Barbatos and changed your dance. Why?"
You remain silent for a moment, a single millisecond of hesitation that Lord Diavolo recognizes. Your mask only crumbled for a second, but that was all he needed.
His face flashes with amusement.
"Ah. You did not wish for your brother to see you perform such movements."
You keep your face still, perfectly expressionless as Lord Diavolo lets out a throaty chuckle. Genuine amusement seems to appear on his features. For the first time, you're relieved for your utterly unreadable face, because you know that if not for it, you would be blushing in embarrassment at having compromised your dance for such a foolish reason, and the demon lord would only laugh louder at your state.
"Very well. Your heart was in the correct place. You dance for me, not him. It is not fitting for Barbatos to bear witness to what you wish to present to my eyes." The prince stares at you thoughtfully, studying your blank face. "Would it please you if he remains out of the room in the future?"
"I am pleased by whatever my lord would prefer."
"How boring," He comments, though his eyes are filled with amusement. For the first time, he looks at you as if you are more than a body moving and dancing to his will, seeing that there is indeed a person inside.
But he does not forget why you are here.
"Dance," He commands.
And without your brother staring at your back, you don't restrain any of your charm as your movements resume, slow and sensual.
You dance late into the night, the purple silks around you flying brilliantly as you make your movements as big as possible, flaunting your confidence as every movement falls into place. The jut of your hips, the batting of your eyes, the smirk on your lips. It's all intentional, and though the game you're playing is a dangerous one, it's one that Lord Diavolo seems to enjoy, for he keeps you by his side longer than he ever has before.
When he finally instructs you to stop, his instructions are clear: "Tell your brother he will not be joining us from now on."
But the words that follow ring louder in your mind, accelerating the beating of your heart in a way that exercise has never done.
"And when you come dance for me tomorrow, I want you to dance for me the same way you just did."
***
Barbatos's scowl the next morning is unlike anything you've ever seen before.
Unlike the usual mornings, where he comes to your room and helps you adorn the traditional garb of demon dancers while casually talking to you, today, he remains dead silent as he pulls the black fabric over your shoulders.
He's still putting forth his best effort to help you, tying the finishing knot with more skill than you've ever managed to procure, but the air around him is angry as he works, and you can tell that he resents the idea of you dancing for Lord Diavolo without him there to make sure that you're not being taken advantage of.
"Don't be mad," You tell him when he steps back, crossing his arms and leaving you to tie the string of bells around your feet. "There's nothing either of us can do."
Silence.
"Barbatos!"
You groan when you look up to see his body angled away from you, mouth set in a firm frown. You finish tying the bells around your first foot and move on to the second.
"You can be awfully stubborn, do you know that?"
More silence.
You internally roll your eyes, rushing to finish tying the knot before you stand, testing that both sets of bells are equally tight around your legs.
But more importantly—
You step forward to wrap Barbatos in a tight hug from behind, making sure that he can feel every emotion in your body as you squeeze him. "I'll be fine," You tell him. "You've taught me how to look after myself."
There's not much time left after that, given that Lord Diavolo can never be kept waiting, but just as you're about to exit the room, Barbatos grabs your arm.
"Be careful," He warns. "Don't do anything too suggestive, and don't—"
You place a finger to your big brother's lips, silencing him instantly. "I won't."
"If he makes you uncomfortable, call my name and I will be there instantly." He clasps your hands, his solemn expression especially heavy. "Promise me."
You sigh softly at his overprotectiveness, running a hand through his dark green hair. "I trust you, Barbatos." You pull back. "But I also trust Lord Diavolo."
Before he can say another word to you, you pull away from his grasp and set yourself in a brisk walk, rushing to make your way to the throne room.
As you've been doing for nearly a month now, you enter without a word and move forward, taking steps so delicate that the bells on your feet are still as you silently glide to your usual spot.
You haven't even bowed by the time Lord Diavolo has started speaking, the same word—dance—rolling off his lips. He says it so smoothly that you feel he was born to say it, born to command you to captivate him for all eternity.
The word still lights your blood with the same fire it did before, and your lips curve upward as you drag your leg out and draw a circle with it, leaning forward and pulling your body dangerously close to Lord Diavolo's for a single moment before withdrawing.
That's a dangerous game you're playing, he seems to say with his devilish smile. But for once, you aren't forced to maintain a blank mask as you boldly gaze upon the king. No, the dance has set you free, and all your emotions come rushing to the surface of your face in the name of expression, including the wicked smirk that tells the prince you want to play this game.
"Stop," Lord Diavolo orders, and though you're surprised, you fall to a bow as usual.
"Rise." You do.
"Come forward." Two steps.
"More." Two more steps.
"Closer." One step.
The prince pauses, studying the distance between the two of you. There's hardly any, now, and if you reach your arm forward, you can actually touch him for how close his body is to yours.
He leans back in his chair, resting his chin on his elbow as he studies you up close, taking his time to look over your features.
Panic surfaces in the back of your mind, suddenly understanding that this is how the prince means to play.
"Dance," He orders, now confident that he has won.
And while you are now restricted in your movements, limited to how far you can push yourself, you move to tell him no, he has not won. Because the caged bird sings loudest, and now, with no distance to sully it, the song of the bells on your feet rings clearer than the prince has ever heard.
***
Black? Or White?
It's a simple question, but a dilemma all the same, and you cross your arms as you stand in your underwear, debating which pajamas you should wear to sleep.
The black is softer, you reason with yourself. But the white fits better.
You hold the different shirts against your body, checking how you look in the mirror in case it has any answers that will end your internal crisis.
Alas, your reflection seems to be no help to you, and you groan, tossing both sets of clothes onto the floor as you flop onto your bed, wondering if you'll simply sleep in your underwear instead.
Your pondering is cut short when a burning sensation fills your heart: something warm, fuzzy, and incredibly royal as it pulsates throughout the rest of your body.
The prince, you realize instantly, not quite sure how you know that this is him calling, but there isn't a trace of doubt in your mind. The prince is summoning you.
Blindly grabbing the shirt closest to you (which so happens to be the black one), you fumble with the buttons, trying to undo them so that you can pull the fabric over your head and look at least semi-decent when you run to the throne room to answer his summons. But just as your fingers have undone the first button, Barbatos's words to you when you first arrived ring out in your ears.
There will be times when he will call for you, and you will not be prepared. Should such a thing happen, drop everything immediately and go to him. He will know if you keep him waiting, and he will replace you instantly should you be insolent enough to do so.
You drop the shirt, glancing down at your body. Your most private bits are covered up by underwear, but…
No. You shake your head, yanking the door open and breaking out into a jog to arrive in the throne room before Lord Diavolo realizes that you were about to keep him waiting. There's no point in going back now.
You force your face to remain blank as you pull open the door, internally relieved that you didn't run into Barbatos along the way, and Lord Diavolo's eyes light up the moment he sees you. It is late now, and whatever filter the prince usually has is gone as he rests his chin on his fist, expression bright as ever.
"Ah! I was concerned that you might not have sensed my magic, but it appears you have." He smiles at you, eyes looking almost kind as they remain trained on your face. "I see you were in a bit of a predicament before arriving here."
His gaze flits down, and you suddenly realize that he knew you were changing even when he summoned you. The mischievous smile on his face says it all.
"You no longer need to await my order to speak in my presence," He informs you. "I wish to hear your thoughts. How do you feel about being here before me?"
"It is the highest honor, my lord."
"Diavolo," He corrects, clicking his tongue.
"Pardon?"
"Call me Diavolo."
"I see. Then, Diavolo…" You test the word on your tongue, not missing the way the demon lord's ears perk up when you say his name. "It is the highest honor to serve you."
"Even if you're in this state of dress? Without those bells on your feet?" He is amused with your attempted indifference to the situation, you can tell. No doubt, he recognizes that this is just a facade and that you're dying on the inside. But nonetheless, you find a response for him.
"A dancer can dance in anything," You declare. "The garb I usually wear is one that enhances the visual appeal of a specific style of movements. There are dances that complement these clothes as well, my lo—Diavolo."
The demon smiles at your correction, but he sees through your words.
"You are a very composed person," He comments. "Tell me, my royal dancer, why do you pretend like you have no emotions?"
A taunting question. Lord Diavolo may appear relaxed and comfortable, but his mind is sharp as ever.
The game the two of you play never stops. Whether you are simply speaking or are dancing, there is the eternal toying with each other, testing each other to see how far the other will go.
"A dancer must save their emotions for dance," You respond.
Dance, and the ones they love.
Your natural smile will only reveal itself to two people: your brother, and whoever may capture your heart.
"Do you like having your emotions surface as you dance?" Diavolo asks, his eyes never leaving yours.
"I love it."
"I see," He leans back in his chair. "Then," He begins, and you already know what comes next.
"Dance."
***
He's trying to crack your shell, you realize.
He's trying to make you show expression outside of when you dance.
And, if you're honest, Diavolo is doing a damn good job of it.
You have to fight your body with all your might to suppress a blush, but it takes nearly all your energy, and you almost begin to worry about what will happen when you have to dance later.
"Are you uncomfortable?" Diavolo asks, and although he has the biggest grin on his face, you suspect that he will release you if you tell him you are.
But a ridiculous mix of stubbornness and actually wanting to remain on his lap compels you to shake your head, holding your body even stiffer as he settles a hand over the side of your waist, effectively caging you in.
"You don't seem very comfortable," He murmurs, almost pouting. "Relax."
You force your muscles to lose a bit of tension, though it's nearly impossible when you realize, once again, that you're literally sitting on the lap of the prince of hell.
"Tell me about your childhood," Diavolo begins. "We have some time before Barbatos expects that guests will arrive. And I expect you already know everything about me. So tell me. What was it like, growing up with Barbatos?"
You do relax a little bit at that, noting the childish grin that Diavolo wears as he not-so-subtly asks you if you have any embarrassing stories of your older brother. Alas, you have to shake your head and deny the prince any answers.
"Barbatos and I were only together for a few centuries before we split apart. I left to study dance when I turned two-hundred."
"Impressive," Diavolo mutters, eyes lighting up as he imagines all that time spent training in a single art. "Did you always know you wanted to pursue dance?"
You nod your head, a small smile forming on your lips.
Expression!
Something screams at the back of your mind, reprimanding you for losing the facade of inexpression that dancers are expected to adorn when they step into their garb, but you can't bring yourself to turn your face blank as Diavolo looks at you so hopefully, and you simply opt to answer his question and leave the soft smile on your face.
You win this one, Diavolo.
"Not always. I thought I would grow up training in sorcery and magic, like Barbatos. But I was never as skilled like he was, and my only gift seemed to be the ability to dance."
Diavolo nods his head, leaning further back in his throne. Meanwhile, you make yourself comfortable in his lap, squirming lightly on his thighs before your bottom is rested more comfortably atop them.
"My family didn't want me to pursue dance. They argued that it had no future. That I would be dropped into the lowest rungs of society. But Barbatos believed in me, and he personally helped find me an instructor and paid for all my lessons until I could finally make a living out of it." You smile, remembering how he, quite literally, changed the course of your life. "He's done so much for me, just so that I could be happy. I owe him everything."
Diavolo remains quiet, his eyes seeing you but not quite seeing you as he gazes at your (h/c) hair, one side streaked with the telltale patch of teal that both you and your brother share.
"Barbatos is a good man," The prince decides. "And an even better brother, it would seem."
You smile, slightly proud of your brother for having earned the praise of the demon lord of hell. You open your mouth to respond, but before a sound can leave your lips, a knock echoes through the hall.
"Come in," Diavolo calls, and it opens, revealing the very man you were both talking about.
"The guests have—" He breaks off in the middle of his sentence, eyes narrowing the moment he sees you seated so willingly on Diavolo's lap. The temperature in the room seems to drop by ten degrees. When Barbatos begins speaking again, he doesn't bother hiding the raw fury in his words, only further emphasized by their shortness. "The guests have arrived. They will be in this room shortly."
"Wonderful," Diavolo responds, not reacting at all to the barely concealed growl at the end of Barbatos's words. "Send them in."
You watch as your brother nods curtly, closing the door with far more force than is necessary, and you sigh internally. You would never be bold enough to act so callously around Diavolo, but the man seems like he was almost expecting this, and he only sighs when the echo of the door slam has faded.
"And Barbatos is awfully overprotective of you," Diavolo mutters, a pout forming on his face. "I expect he'll be yelling at me later tonight.
"Yelling at you?" You gasp, never having realized that Barbatos would dare reprimand the prince.
Diavolo nods his head. "Wish me luck," He mutters, using both his hands to lift you by the waist off his lap. He sets you down right next to him, a silent stay there implied as guests begin to file in.
The second they lay their eyes upon you, whispers begin to fill the air.
"Look at that clothing! I've never seen anything like it! What kind of dance do you think they are going to show us?"
"Oh, how exotic! They look positively ravishing! I could just scoop them up and eat them!"
"Why do you think the prince chose to bring his entertainer out? Do you think he might keep this one?"
You don your emotionless facade once more, steeling yourself to help you ignore the rumors that the demons are doing an awful job of whispering. Diavolo glances at you from the corner of his eye every now and then, but you hold your face neutral, and he relaxes once he sees that you can manage yourself.
"My lord!" A noble cries, approaching the throne. The man bows and rises, greeting the prince. "So, the rumors are true! This dancer has caught your interest!"
You ignore the noble and remain facing forward, watching those around you. For a moment, you make eye contact with Barbatos, but neither you nor he has the luxury of letting your emotions surface right now, so the conversation he doubtlessly wants to have with you will have to wait for later.
"Dance for us, child!" The noble looks at you expectantly, eyes bright but foolish, and you have to hide your irritation. You ignore him entirely, staring forward blankly.
He frowns at your disobedience. "What are you waiting for? Dance!"
"They only dance for me," Diavolo interrupts smoothly, the words sharp as a knife as he smiles at the noble who dared command his personal dancer.
He looks at you. A single glance, and that's all it takes to prepare you for his next word.
"Dance."
And you do, effortlessly hypnotizing the entire room the moment you begin moving.
But not once do you meet the eyes of the audience. No, just as Diavolo said earlier: you only dance for him. The watching eyes all around are nothing to you. Not even distractions. You dip your head low, raising your gaze on the upbeat as a smile spreads across your features.
All you care about is him.
And he knows it.
***
You've still yet to decide what you like most about living the palace.
Is it the fact that, at last, you can see your brother and enjoy his presence daily? Is it the fact that you no longer need to worry about food or bills? Is it the fact you are able to do what you love all day, every day, for the most important demon in the world?
No, you think to yourself.
It's the showers.
You hum quietly, turning the faucet off as you reach for a towel. It's soft and fluffy against your skin, and you momentarily wonder if you like the towels better than the showers, but no, you decide that your favorite thing about the palace is still the former.
Not bothering to dry your wet hair, you wrap the towel around your figure and step out of the bathroom into your chambers, glancing around for the clothes you laid out.
Gray, you note, glancing at the faded color of the silken garments laid across your bed.
You run your hand over them, savoring the cool softness of the fabric, and you're just about to pull the shirt over your head when a familiar sense of magic beats through your body.
Oh no.
You bite your lip, realizing your predicament.
Diavolo is summoning you, a summons which you technically must answer immediately and without a moment's hesitation.
But all you're wearing is a towel.
You reach your hand forward for the cotton underwear you had laid out. Surely just wearing those won't count as disobedience to the crown, right?
Alas, fate is not on your side. Because the moment your fingers graze over the cotton, the sensation in your heart grows overwhelming, and then you know Diavolo wants you in front of him and now.
Praying that Barbatos doesn't run into you in the halls, you clutch the towel and sprint to the throne room with as much grace as you can muster, stepping inside with a look of pure concern written on your face.
"What's wrong?" Diavolo asks from the other end of the room. As usual, he wears that Cheshire-like smirk, and you once more realize that he was all too aware of your predicament when he summoned you.
"...Nothing," You finally mumble in response, averting your eyes.
"You know, if I were the type of person to jump to conclusions, I might think that you're embarrassed to be here in front of me in only a towel." Diavolo's words are teasing. Truthful, but teasing.
"You know, if I were the type of person to jump to conclusions, I might just think that you consciously summoned me while I was changing so that you could see me naked."
"Oh no," Diavolo responds, licking his lips. "That's a fact, love."
And suddenly, the confidence you had from before is gone, and you're left nothing but a blushing mess as you awkwardly try not to look Diavolo in the eye.
What happened to that emotionless facade? You wonder, only realizing now that you've begun to show your emotions to Diavolo. And that you've grown worse at hiding them.
What kind of dancer can't hide their emotions? You ask inwardly, and suddenly, your internal question becomes a challenge, and you force yourself to be confident. To be bold, to be sexy. You are a dancer, and it is in your nature to be able to become anything and everything in an instant: hiding a blush is trivial compared to the training you've been through.
Your hand flies to the part of the towel where it's tucked in, the only thing holding it up, but you tap it dangerously.
"So," You begin, an unconfident confidence taking over your senses as you stare at Diavolo. "Are you saying you want me to take this off?"
Diavolo's eyes raise at your offer, evidently not having expected you to respond so boldly to his earlier comments.
He studies your face, your so-obviously forced look of confidence as you resolutely stand in front of him, about to strip when he knows that you're completely nude underneath.
"Do not push yourself," He warns, but then you've taken his words as a challenge, and you rip the towel off your body, discarding it in a hasty throw away from your body.
For a moment, as the cold air hits your privates, you do regret your decision. You feel exposed. Vulnerable. Weak.
But then, you raise your eyes from the floor and you look up at Diavolo—and the way he stares at your body fills you with true confidence. His eyes are hungry as they skirt over every spot, hovering a bit longer over his favorite places, and you can see the way his muscles strain as he consciously restrains himself from moving to touch your body.
His mouth is partially open, and you can hear the quiet breath that leaves his mouth as his breath hitches, and then he's also looking back up at you with worry, concerned that you've pushed yourself too far for his sake and that he's made you uncomfortable. But the confidence you didn't have before now flows through your veins as you return his gaze, your eyes locked to each other in a way that screams desire.
"Can you—" Diavolo clears his throat, hearing how quiet his words were at first. But even when he begins speaking once more, his words are gentle. He's no longer commanding, but is asking. "Can you dance like this?"
You nod your head slowly, already imagining all the ways you can take advantage of your nudity to execute moves that would otherwise look ridiculous.
"I can."
"Then," He opens his mouth to say the word, but before he can even begin, your body has begun moving, and the sound is caught in his throat as he simply stares, utterly captivated by every movement, every bounce, every sway.
He's left frozen as he stares at your figure, dancing without any clothing or jewelry to distract him from your natural perfection. And in this moment, Diavolo is truly spellbound by the spell that is you, unable to move an inch as you single-handedly move enough for the both of you.
***
Barbatos always knows more than he lets on.
When you were a kid, he knew you wanted to learn dance even before you did. When you were older, he always seemed to pop up whenever you found yourself yearning for him. And even now, you're certain that he's aware of more than he's telling you, as he unfolds the brilliant blue silk in his hands and prepares to drape it around your shoulders.
"...You don't have anything to say to me?" You finally ask, raising a suspicious eyebrow. It's been over a week, now, and he hasn't said a single word about finding you seated on Diavolo's lap that one time. And you're quite certain that he has his suspicions about you dancing nude for the prince.
"Not at all," He responds, fastening the blue to your armlet. He turns around, inspecting your jewelry box, flashing you a cryptic smile. "Why? Should I be concerned?"
His smile remains subtle as he continues flitting through your earrings, lifting two—a topaz and a sapphire—and comparing them to the color of your garb before handing you the dangling sapphire, which you slip into your ear.
He walks behind you as you examine your figure in the mirror, pulling bits of cloth here and there until you look like a proper dancer, ethereal as you are refined.
You study Barbatos's expression. He's wearing his usual, enigmatic smile, but you don't detect any anger or upset in his eyes. If anything, his steps are lighter than usual, and he seems unbearably pleased as he begins walking you to the throne room, not seeming to care at all that he saw you sitting on the demon lord's lap not one week ago.
"Are you sure you don't have anything to say to me?" You call when he begins to walk away, the demon already three steps away from you. "Anything at all?" You bite your lip. You want him to chew you out, ask you about it, or even sulk angrily as he tends to do from time to time—you just want him to acknowledge what happened, or at least tell you why he's so okay with it.
"Follow your heart," The demon calls back, not even looking at you as he continues walking away.
The words make you blink, seemingly coming out of absolutely nowhere with zero context, and your face scrunches up as you try to figure out why in hell he would say something so random.
And as much as you want to chase after him to find out what in hell he means, you have a duty here, and your brother will have to wait.
Stupid Barbatos and his endless riddles.
"Diavolo?" You call, opening the door.
He isn't seated at his throne, but a quick scan of the room reveals that he's standing inside the mouth of the dragon skull, staring at the structure around him. He nods at you when you arrive, his usual smile overtaking his features as you walk forward.
"Join me," He calls out to you, offering his hand. You take it, letting him intertwine his fingers with yours. "When my father came to this room, he sat on this skull as a throne. Do you see that spot, at the top of the dragon's head, where it's slightly flat?" He points, and you nod. "Right there. Every day. I used to think it was the most uncomfortable thing in the world, but I suppose my father sat in it not because of the comfort, but because of the beauty, no?"
You take a step forward, marveling at the fossil now that you can see it up close.
"It is beautiful."
"Would you like to stand on it?" He asks, leaning his weight on one bone. "Stand on the place my father used to use as a throne?"
"No!" You decline swiftly, understanding that of all things, it would hardly be appropriate for the prince's entertainer to stand in what was used to be a sacred throne. But Diavolo must see the glimmer of hope in your eyes, because a second later he's muttering 'nonsense' under his breath and is lifting you onto the skull, holding you until you've managed to stabilize yourself on what you imagine must have been the dragon's snout.
"Oh my goodness," You gasp out loud, clutching the bone for support as you climb higher at Diavolo's encouragement.
"Be careful," He warns, but millennia of dance has taught you footwork too well for you to land in a weak foothold, and before long, you're at the top, even beyond where the throne supposedly was.
"Diavolo!" You gasp, laughing merrily. "Look! I'm—I'm—"
"I know," He says, a warm smile spreading across his face as he looks up at you, stepping back. "Do you think—" He breaks off, shaking his head. "No, never mind."
"What is it, Diavolo?"
He hesitates, staring at the bony skeleton you're standing on, but at the sight of your pleading eyes, he yields. "Do you think you could dance on that skeleton?"
You glance around. There are holes, and definite spaces that you'll need to jump over, but that's the nature of dance, is it not?
Your beaming smile answers his question, and Diavolo has to hold a hand up to stop you.
"Just for a few minutes, alright? I don't want to risk you injuring yourself, so come down quickly. But…" He trails off, sheepish eyes darting back down to the skeleton before they return to your figure.
"Dance."
And with that single order, the bells on your feet are brought to life once more, swinging and stepping as you practically fly over the dragon's spine. You jump back and forth, from side to side, stepping over hollows, bending your back over points, going as far as to do a front flip that lands you on the edge of the dragon's eye socket.
You detect a flicker of concern in Diavolo's eyes every now and then, but you don't doubt yourself. It's an unusual platform, but you're in control.
Step to step, your arm doesn't cut the air as it moves, but rather the air makes way for your arm and your limbs simply follow, your body swinging gracefully like an acrobat as you recall the centuries you spent working with master gymnasts, building upper body strength to pull your body through spins and twists that now make Diavolo gasp as you perform them for him.
But you don't forget his initial order, to not get carried away and to only go for a few minutes, so you continue making your way down the skull, dancing and jumping, reaching and pulling, until you swing out of the jaws of the dragon, landing perfectly in Diavolo's arms just as you planned.
Laughter spills from your lips on instinct as he holds you, and you realize that there's a slight blush on your face from how muscular the demon lord's arms are as he practically hugs you, but you savor the feeling.
"That looked far more reckless than I had anticipated," Diavolo confesses, though there's a reluctant smile on his lips. "But you seemed to enjoy yourself."
"That was wonderful," You respond, grinning as he sets your feet on the ground and releases you. But the earlier movement has your body itching for more, and you interlace your fingers with Diavolo's, subtly pushing him back into his throne.
"Say it," You tell him, cheeks flushed. From exercise or the hug, you don't know. All you're aware of is the overwhelming desire to keep moving.
"Dance," He whispers, sending the word to you like a kiss as he leans forward in his throne to watch you.
And you dance.
***
Barbatos insists on dressing you in red today.
"It's a beautiful color," He says as his excuse when you confront him, and while he's absolutely right on that front, you can't help but suspect that there's an ulterior motive that he has.
Trying to convince yourself that you're just overthinking things in your head, you watch as he selects a ruby for your earring, an expensive gift he had given you many millennia ago. The red gem has been carved into the shape of a stunning rose, something you usually wouldn't risk dancing in, but Barbatos insists on it as he fusses over your outfit, pulling cloths and fabrics into place with more effort than you've ever directed toward yourself.
"You look good," He finally comments, and though the words hardly count as praise, you know that Barbatos means them with all his heart.
"Thank you," You respond, opening the door. "Now, will you tell me what the special occasion is?"
But Barbatos shakes his head, maintaining the ruse that there is no 'special occasion.'
You suppress an urge to roll your eyes as you lead the way to Diavolo's throne room, thinking that if Barbatos was going to prepare you for something, he could have at least been a bit more subtle about it.
This morning, he had marched into your room nearly an hour early, ordering you to bathe and shampoo your hair with a handful of expensive soaps he handed to you. He answered no questions, frowning when you began asking too many, and threatened to withhold dessert from you if you continued to pester him. He then proceeded to dress you in your finest red garb, complementing it with black rather than another darker shade of red, and went as far as to dab perfume at your skin.
"I am not dumb," You blurt, once you're at the throne room door.
"You are not," Barbatos agrees, nodding.
"I know something is up," You clarify.
"As was my intention," Barbatos quips back, that aggravating smile back on his face. But before you can say another word, he silences you with a finger to your lips. "Just go along with it, will you?"
He hesitates, looking awkward and extremely uncomfortable for a moment, but then he sighs and seems to groan to himself, stepping forward as he awkwardly pulls his arms around you.
A hug, you realize, blinking. This is supposed to be a hug.
And it's perhaps the first one Barbatos has initiated in your entire lifetime together.
You hold back your gasp as you return his embrace, pressing his body close to yours and helping him out as you smile. And he pulls back, eyebrows furrowed just the slightest.
"Be safe, alright?" He seems to have an internal struggle for a moment, but one side wins out, and when he looks at you next, his eyes are soft. "I will always care for you."
You're about to respond, about to say something equally heartfelt and sweet, when a rush of magic bursts in your chest, and you have to clutch your brother's shoulders for support.
He calls out your name in a panicked breath, eyebrows furrowed as he looks down at you, and you laugh.
"My apologies," You smile bashfully. "I am still not quite used to the sensation of Diavolo summoning me. It's overwhelming, every time." You glance toward the door. "I suppose I should…"
Barbatos nods, flashing you another rare smile before turning around.
You push open the door to the throne room.
“Diavolo?” You call, glancing around.
He's not on his throne. Nor is he standing in the dragon skull. Nor is he standing in the skull of any other creature, or anywhere else in the room.
The magic in your heart beats once more, stronger this time, and you frown. This is doubtlessly the sensation of Diavolo calling you, so where is he? And why is he calling you if he's not here?
You're about to walk forward and take a better look around when the sensation nearly overwhelms you, your dancer's grace being the only thing that prevents you from stumbling onto the floor.
He's not here, you realize.
And just when you begin to wonder where he could be, you feel a weak tug on your heart, as if it's pulling you somewhere.
Follow your heart.
Barbatos had said that not long ago.
And like you've always done, you take his advice, following your heart out the throne room and down the hall. You attempt shouting Barbatos's name along the way for assistance, Diavolo's name spilling from your lips a little more often, but neither men respond, so you continue marching in the direction your heart pulls you, only stopping with you find yourself in front of a particularly majestic door.
You take a step back, taking in the full view of it.
Diavolo’s personal chambers.
Your breath hitches.
You wrap your fingers around the handle, hesitating to open it. There's no going back, either way. Should you turn back now, this opportunity will never arise again. But should you enter, your relationship with Diavolo will certainly change. After all, these are his personal chambers.
Follow your heart.
Except that your heart is no longer tugging you to or fro, not even weakly. You bite your lip, concern imprinted on your mind. You want Barbatos here, so your big brother can give you advice and tell you what to do. Or if you can't have him, you want Diavolo, so that he can laugh and make everything better and—
Oh.
Realization dawns in your eyes.
You want Diavolo.
And not just in the wholesome, friendly way. You want to be able to run your fingers along his muscles, to be able to play with his fiery red hair, to be able to look into those bright eyes until you can decide what shade of orange they are, never caring about what he'll think of you for staring so long.
You want Diavolo.
All hesitation deserting your body, those words echo through your mind. And you twist the golden handle down, opening the doors to the prince's private chambers and entering.
He lives like a king.
That's your first foolish thought, before the notion strikes you that with his father lying dormant, he is the acting king of the Devildom. And once your immediate stupor induced by the sheer lavishness of his quarters passes, a voice speaks.
"You came."
Your head turns to the source of the voice instantly, and you see a large bed pressed against the center of the wall on your left, the shape of a familiar figure still buried inside.
"You...summoned me," You say, trying to justify why you entered the prince's personal chambers. At the back of your mind, there is a moment of panic—you worry that this was a test, and you chose wrong by entering—but Diavolo's next words reveal that it is quite the opposite.
"I have summoned many entertainers to this room, but none have ever dared step inside. You are the first," Diavolo says, but then he corrects himself: "You are the only."
Your fingers twitch at your sides when he says that, the possessive tone in his voice not lost upon you.
"It is my honor," You say, instantly bowing your head.
"No." You raise your eyebrows the slightest, eyes focused on the blankets as Diavolo's figure emerges from beneath them, sitting up. He looks princely as ever: dignified and royal as he exposes his bare upper body to you for the first time. "It is your destiny."
Your heart swells at that, a rush of pride coming to the forefront of your mind as you understand the prince's words. Destiny, you think. Something so intangible but so undeniably there. You shoot Diavolo a questioning look, quietly wondering whether he means the words in a literal or metaphorical sense, whether he's chosen you for his destiny or you truly are fated to be with him, and he smiles. Opening his mouth, a single comment slips from his mouth, and that's all you need to know for the answer to your question.
"Barbatos."
Of course.
If there is one person in the world who would know something so utterly lifechanging and shocking, it would be him.
Suddenly, your brother's strange actions over these past few weeks become understandable: the transition from concerned to confident, irate to pleased, protective to accepting. Even his actions this morning flit through your mind, and they take a different shade in your memories when you realize, for the first time, that he has donned you in the colors of Diavolo: red and blank.
Destiny, you think, eyes widening at the realization. Barbatos knew yours, and then Diavolo learned it, and now you understand it, too.
The moment the fact dawns on you, the silence grows weighted. Air filled with tension, too thick for even a knife to slice through it. You stare at Diavolo with round eyes, the sudden pressure of the moment not lost on you as you try to sort out your thoughts.
An amused smile breaks out on the demon lord's face at your evident confusion, and you realize—with a curse directed inward—that you've once again abandoned the expressionless mask of a dancer. But as Diavolo continues to gaze at you, you find yourself frozen, entirely unable to hide anything away as he stares into your soul.
He smiles.
"Come."
An order, one that your body heeds on instinct.
Yet, as you move to obey, it's different. You don't force yourself to tread so that the bells on your feet are silent, to wear a blank face to save your expressions for later, to stare at the ground when you want to gaze upon the prince. No, as you obey this final order of Diavolo's, you are no longer hiding behind forced grace—you reveal you, in all your natural elegance and wonder.
The bells on your feet tinkle softly as you move, and your body sets itself into a natural rhythm that makes the gentle jingles sound perfectly continuous, and it's like a musical trance wraps around the room as you approach the bed.
Normally, you would stop at least eight feet from the king, awaiting his inevitable orders to further approach. Six feet, if you're feeling brave. But now, emboldened by the prince's earlier words of destiny, you hold back nothing as you stride forward, stopping only when you are less than even a hand's length away from the prince, and he is so close that you can cup his cheek.
The moment you stop moving, the trance is broken—the music of the bells on your feet quieting. But where one moment ends, another begins, and Diavolo pulls you into an entirely different state of captivation.
The prince looks up at you from his spot on the edge of the bed, never breaking eye contact as he takes your smaller hand in his. And though you've certainly done much more with him, having sat on his lap and danced completely nude for him, nothing has ever felt so intimate.
"Even destiny is nothing before the power of a king. If you do not wish for this, nothing will be forced upon you." Diavolo raises his eyebrows gently, and you realize that he is giving you a choice. That though you two are fated to be together, he will still honor your decision, no matter what it may be.
But truly, did you not give him your answer the moment you decided to enter this room?
Your heart swells with warmth. With warmth and affection and desire as you gaze upon this prince, who, by all rights, can take anything he pleases, and still chooses to give you a choice in the matter. And it's in this state, when you're so overwhelmed by love that any words that might leave your lips fall short of your throat and you opt to answer Diavolo's question with action, leaning forward with such certainty that there leaves no room for further doubt.
I want to be with you.
You say the words in the way you kiss him, pressing your lips against his slowly but surely, showing him just how much you want this. It's a second before he responds, but the moment he understands your answer, he holds nothing back.
A hand comes up to your hair, better angling your face down at his, and a warmth enters your mouth as Diavolo deepens the kiss. Mind already growing clouded with lust from this simple action, you steady yourself by laying a hand against Diavolo's chest, the muscles impossible hard as you hold yourself up.
But the action is entirely unnecessary, because moments later, Diavolo has you pulled into his lap, the bells on your feet jingling at the movement.
The sudden sound prompts both of you to withdraw for a moment, and you glance at your feet, the nine rows of bells which trail from low on your ankle to low on your calf.
"I can take them off—" You try to say, but Diavolo silences you with a kiss, flipping your bodies over in an elegant spin so that you are underneath him. The bells clatter against each other once more, but when the sound fades, so does the last of Diavolo's restraint.
You glance upward, and the look Diavolo gives you is nothing short of a starved man, desperately holding himself back while he studies your body laid out beneath him oh-so-temptingly.
"Don't make me wait any longer," He murmurs, and you feel his hips press against yours, the fire in his eyes fueled not just by desire but by true need, and you can't hold back your grin as he sucks in a sharp breath when you experimentally roll your body against his. But his earlier muttering does not go forgotten, and with one more body roll, you throw an arm around his neck and collide his lips with yours in a hungry meeting of lust long overdue.
"You're perfect," Diavolo whispers breathlessly between kisses, fingers deftly unclasping the red silk that hides your shoulders.
"And you," You try to respond, but the combination of Diavolo's overwhelming presence and his intoxicating touch has you feeling high, and those end up being the final coherent words you stutter out as the prince throws the clothing to the floor, leaning back to study your exposed form.
His eyes widen and his breath hitches, and the hand on your waist twitches as he studies the skin he's already begun to litter with hickeys.
You look up at him, not missing the way he seems to be devouring you with his eyes, memorizing the image of your body splayed out before him.
His left thumb hooks the soft fabric of your pants, pulling experimentally, delighting in the softness of the skin there. He glances upward at you, eyes slightly wide as his mouth spreads into a grin, realizing that this is actually about to happen.
"May I have this dance?" He jokes, tugging on the elastic fabric experimentally.
The breathless nod you give him is all he needs, and then his lips are on yours and you lost track of where his hands are, just aware of the fabric being stripped from your body until your bodies are pressed flush against each other.
You close your eyes, savoring the sensation of Diavolo as he takes control, guiding you through the passion with a gentle but sure hand.
And for the first time, you dance together.
MASTERLIST
Word count: 11.2k
Notes: so when i had this idea i was like okay ill make it a series and each new interaction will just be a new chapter but then i got excited and wrote the whole thing in one night and i didnt wanna make you guys wait so yeah heres hopefully the longest oneshot ill write
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I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.
#Word count: 11.2k#gender neutral reader#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall we date#obey me diavolo#obey me diavolo x reader#diavolo#diavolo x reader#obey me barbatos#barbatos#demon reader#prince x servant#sorta#power difference#slow burn#ish#pining#kinda#dance#oneshot#completed#royal#slight lime#at the end#happy#fluff#relationship#long#very very long
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Flower Crown - yungi
Chapter five: Exchange glances
_____________________________
The entire village was busy as the townsfolk prepared for the festival. People had decorated the numerous streetlights with glorious-looking red lanterns, and as it was already noon, the lanterns illuminated a noble path all the way to the arena. It was like a personal red carpet for anyone who was headed there. The children were throwing flower petals on the streets to welcome the honorable guests to the village, making both Jongho and Mingi smile with adoration.
Some of the villagers greeted Mingi as the pair waltzed through the crowd of people. He tried giving them a polite nod back but failed miserably, awkwardly smiling as he gave up being polished. Jongho laughed at Mingi's stiffness, gaining a grumpy huff from him as a response. "The town's very lively today." He muttered, subconsciously gripping Mingi's hand tighter as he lead him through the thick crowds of people. It usually didn't take much time to reach the huge fighting arena but considering the streets were filled with people from all over the continent, it was harder to get there. "I've never seen so many people in one place. Where I come from, houses are scattered everywhere on the mountains."
Mingi stared at Jongho's (rather muscular) back for a hot second before answering. "Oh yeah! I forgot the whole berserker clan lives on the mountains." He pondered as the corners of his mouth quirked up a little. "Isn't it cold up there?" He cocked his head to the side, eyes shining in fascination towards the other's race.
The berserker hummed, thinking of a fitting answer, his other hand in his pocket. "No, not really. I guess we're built to withstand cold weather. But hot weather, that's something I dislike quite a bit." He admitted, a sweet smile on his lips. "It makes my skin dry."
"Oh? I've never read about that." Mingi mumbled, kicking a small rock on the ground. "As I said, I've never seen a berserker before so this is a big deal for me. I've only read about your kind from my books." He mentioned with an adorable pout as if he was embarrassed he didn't have much knowledge about Jongho's people.
"You've read about berserkers?" The other quirked up an eyebrow as if Mingi could see it. He slowed down because of their heated conversation, figuring out talking with Mingi wasn't bad. "I'm intrigued now. What have you learned?" He grinned, looking over his shoulder.
The elf let out a breathy chuckle, covering his mouth with the palm of his hand like a fine lady of sorts. "Well for starters, berserkers have horns on their head and it's their most distinctive feature after their huge size. Although it seems you aren't really the model berserker out there. Even my father didn't realize." He added. Jongho nodded nonchalantly, anticipation written on his features as if he was waiting for something to happen. And when Mingi finally asked the burning question, Jongho got silent immediately.
"Why don't you have horns, by the way?"
Like a deer caught in headlights, Jongho froze in his steps, staring right ahead at the huge shadow of an arena. Mingi's eyes widened as he realized he had asked a question he never should have. His eyes found the gravel path under his feet and he gently took his hand out of the tight grip Jongho had it in. "I — I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked! I-"
"It's fine, Mingi. Don't worry about it." Jongho assured, turning around to look at the taller elf behind him. He noticed how uncomfortable Mingi looked at the moment, guilt filling his stomach, making him feel worse. His eyes found the hand he had been holding onto just a minute ago. Mingi was keeping his fist close to his chest as if he was afraid to move. "I'd rather not talk about it here. It's a lengthy and saddening story and I believe it'd be better if I were to leave it for next time." He lowered his gaze towards the ground. "Sorry."
"It's fine! I'm okay with that..." Mingi bit his lower lip, guilt washing over him like an enormous wave, getting rid of the happy thoughts in his mind instantly. "I apologize for making you feel uneasy, Jongho. That was never my intention." He mumbled, taking in a sharp breath. "I can see this topic brings you bad memories, so let's change it, shall we?" He faked a smile, rubbing his markings through the silky shirt. "I believe I was talking about what I had learned about berserkers from my books."
"Y — yeah."
"I know berserkers are known for not expressing their emotions too often. They rely on their own strength more than their emotions and I guess that's understandable in some aspects." He explained as if Jongho wasn't a berserker himself, a small but excited smile on his features. "Although I must admit, you seem quite different from what the books have described." He muttered to himself quietly, wishing Jongho didn't hear him, but he did. "Anyway, those are some of the things I've read about your kind. I don't want to keep the other contestants waiting, so maybe we should resume our walk there."
"You aren't wrong about the whole 'known for not using their emotions' thing. I guess we use our brains less than others and use our heads instead." Jongho added, slowly turning around and taking his first step towards the arena, again. "It's harder for some. For example, I don't have a hard time with it most of the time, but there have been days when I have shut down entirely and haven't talked to anyone. No one really knows what causes this but I guess it's the class. Berserkers are like that, and no one really questions it."
Mingi lingered behind Jongho as he took some more steps, lips pursed into a thin line as he carefully listened to every single word. Some of the townspeople made way for them when they realized it was the prince and waved at him. Mingi looked down in embarrassment, almost halting in his steps when a hand grabbed his. He looked up to see Jongho holding his hand once again in a tight grip, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can we hurry up?" Mingi said shyly, accepting the warm hand. "I dislike crowds."
"Of course," Jongho said, gently showing his gummy smile to the taller elf. He decided to ignore the bad memories and focus on Mingi's mood which had decreased tremendously when he had mentioned Jongho's missing horns. Of course, he felt bad for making Mingi feel that way, but how could he have known Mingi was going to ask something like that. "I'll take a detour so we can get there faster, okay?" He glanced at the other over his shoulder, his smile wavering as he saw Mingi's crestfallen expression.
"You don't need to do that. Just get me out of here, please." Mingi pleaded with a whimper, begged which made Jongho's heart drop instantly. Even if they've known each other for less than a day, the berserker didn't like seeing someone get uncomfortable because of him.
"I know, but I figured you'd want to see the other fighters. You'd see what you're going against in a few hours." Jongho explained while cocking his head to the side a little. "It would be the perfect opportunity to gain some information about the contestants in my opinion." He said nonchalantly, giving Mingi a stiff nod before grabbing his hand again. "Come on, we gotta hurry."
"Okay, fine."
°❀°
And there it was, the fighting arena, big and majestic in size. People were lined up by the huge metal gate, two guards with sharp, long spears standing on both sides, preventing the people from barging in. Mingi and Jongho wandered closer to the gates but kept their distance from the group of people since they weren't attending as spectators. The berserker glanced at Mingi and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's grander than I remembered." He hummed, gazing up at the huge arena up ahead. "I wish there was something like this on the mountains. The only entertaining thing I can recollect regarding my childhood was a playground I visited as a kid." He laughed, a warm smile plastered on his lips.
Mingi cocked his head to the side, a frown engulfing his peaceful expression. Every time Jongho has talked about his time on the mountains, there's been this melancholic feeling in the air, like something was completely missing. Although the way the guard talked about it didn't seem too concerning, it rang some bells in Mingi's head. "Oh please, I'm sure there's something you cherish about that place." He smiled, trying not to show his inner thoughts to the other. He didn't want to worry Jongho, after all. "I mean, this village isn't interesting either. There's only this large arena in the heart of the town and that's about it. Some petite workshops here and there and the rest are residences."
As if something triggered a memory in Jongho's mind, he went quiet for a minute. Mingi noticed the way he almost withdrew from the conversation, looking for an answer on his expression. The berserker seemed to be in a completely different world for a second. After a couple more minutes Jongho had seemed to gather his thoughts and smiled which resembled a fake smile to Mingi. "I wish I could tell you." He finally stated, turning his gaze away from Mingi and glancing at their surroundings in thought. "Could you stay here while I question the guards?"
"O- of course," Mingi said, stuttering as he was still processing Jongho's answer in his mind. That just proved he had no idea what kind of person he was. He was completely in the dark about the other's past and if he was being completely honest, it made him slightly afraid. The fact that he had been so comfortable around Jongho frightened him quite a bit, it felt like they had known each other for a long time, like he had known Seonghwa. But in reality, they've known for less than a day. "I'll wait here until you return, go ahead, yeah." He smiled awkwardly, still held by his thoughts.
Mingi watched as Jongho made a beeline to the guards, his fluffy red hair bouncing as he walked. The people in the line yelled at him, furious that Jongho had casually walked past them and was now the first in line. Mingi could only watch and observe from the distance as the guard and Jongho conversed.
"Mingi!" An awfully familiar voice boomed from behind him. Seonghwa had come to see him.
Mingi beamed when he realized it had been his dear friend who had approached him. The pressure in his chest calmed down even if it was temporary, Seonghwa's presence affected him and he couldn't deny it. Even if it was for a few minutes, the world around him seemed to calm down and all he could focus on was his friend who was warmly smiling and patiently waiting for an answer. "You came!" Mingi grinned, waiting for Seonghwa to initiate something, a reaction, something. And when Seonghwa simply smiled brighter at his tall friend and he wrapped his arms around Mingi's torso, he grew worried. "Seonghwa?"
The older elf hummed next to Mingi's ear, causing goosebumps all over his skin. "I'm sorry you have to do this, Mingi." He mumbled, arms tightening around Mingi's waist. The said elf sighed and leaned into the hug, giving Seonghwa time to collect his thoughts in peace. The topic sure wasn't anything cheerful. "Your father's in the wrong here, for making you go through this. Fuck, I should've prevented this from occurring." He hissed, fists gripping onto Mingi's silky shirt.
"Hey, you're not the cause of this, Hwa," Mingi mumbled, running his hand up and down Seonghwa's back in a calming manner. The other only sighed in contentment as he relaxed more into the hug. They didn't care about the stares they got anymore, the situation was too intimate for anyone to stop it. "Please, don't condemn yourself because of my shitty life. It's not your fault, not in a million years."
A dry chuckle left Seonghwa's lips at Mingi's remark. He pulled away, hands still on Mingi's hips, just for good measure. "I know, dear. I know." He sighed, closing his eyes with a pout. "I just — I don't want you to get injured. I'm aware there are healers there when the competition starts but what if something happens and even they cannot heal you? What if you lose an arm o-or a leg or something? I could never forgive myself..."
And when Seonghwa was done with his rant, Mingi giggled, he fucking giggled. When Seonghwa was worrying his ass off, his friend brushed all of the thoughts away as if he was some kind of a god. "I'm not going to get hurt, Hwa-"
"Promise me. Promise me you won't get hurt, please." Seonghwa whimpered, looking straight into Mingi's brown eyes. "I'd rather not dwell in guilt... Mingi, I've known you for years and years, you getting hurt would — it would break me. I don't know if I'd survive with the guilt, knowing I could've prevented this all from happening. So please, tell me it's going to be alright and promise me you won't get hurt out there."
Seonghwa was desperate, that was clear. To be honest, Mingi was a little moved because Seonghwa clearly cared dearly for him and treasured him as a friend. It made him happy. But this was something he couldn't promise even if he wanted to, the opponent is always unpredictable whether he liked it or not. There's no way he could know their next move, he wasn't a mind-reader. "Seonghwa... you know I can't promise you that..." He murmured, looking down at the gravel path under his feet. "The opponent is unpredictable, I don't know what they're capable of doing. And you know I'm not an expert in combat, I suck, to be honest. I don't even know what I have to do out there! How the hell am I supposed to fight in front of everyone; in front of my father when I have no idea what I'm doing?"
"I'm sorry you have to go through this," Seonghwa pursed his lips together, taking Mingi's hand and pressing his lips on the soft skin. Mingi widened his eyes in surprise but didn't comment on it. Seonghwa must be distressed about the whole competition. "Just know I'll be watching you in the audience among the others. I'll stop the fight if I see you getting hurt, with force if I have to." He smiled sadly, letting go of Mingi's hand. A thousand words were said without speaking with that simple gesture and Mingi understood every single one. "Were you waiting for someone?" Seonghwa asked, letting the heavy topic finally go.
"I — yeah. I was waiting for my guard to come back." Mingi smiled awkwardly, glancing at Jongho who was still chatting with the other guard. "He went to talk with the other guards. I guess he had something to ask from them." He hummed, keeping his eyes fixed on Jongho's figure. "You know, he's an interesting guy, I must say."
Seonghwa tilted his head to the side, waiting for Mingi to continue. "How so?"
"He's not from our village; he's not an elf, Hwa," Mingi stated nonchalantly, a sigh leaving his lips. He didn't expect the awestruck expression in Seonghwa's features when he turned to look at him. "What? As if there aren't any other species walking around town right now. He's just someone I never thought could join my father's forces, that's all."
As if he had just heard a huge secret, the silver-haired widened his eyes in disbelief, eyeing Mingi as if he was asking if what he had said was true or not. "You're kidding." He murmured. "How the hell is he a guard if he's not an elf? You know very well your father doesn't allow anybody to join his ranks, don't you?"
"I'm aware of that, yeah." Mingi sighed. "But I know what he is; he's a berserker-"
"He's a what now?!" Seonghwa interrupted with a restrained yell, eyes wide as plates. A member of the berserker clan living among elves wasn't what he was expecting at all. It was unheard of. "Mingi, that's extremely dangerous, you know that right? And how do you even know he's one of them? He doesn't even have horns and he's shorter than you." He questioned, a confused expression on his features as he observed Mingi's look.
"He told me," Mingi answered quietly, glancing away from his friend. "And how do you even know of this stuff? Have you met him before?" He countered, a similar expression to Seonghwa's on his features now. "You seem to know a lot about berserkers, Hwa." Seonghwa was about to reply but Mingi beat him to it, ignoring the irritated look on his friend's face as he continued to speak louder. "In any case, I don't think Jongho's dangerous. He's proved himself to be calm and collected, so in my opinion, there's nothing to be worried about."
"Mingi, a berserker in an elf village is unheard of! It's a long way to this village from the mountains, you know that. He would've had to walk for months to reach this village. Do you think he'd be that desperate to join your father's forces? Because I don't, there's no way that's the only motivation behind his leave." Seonghwa said with his jaw clenched. "I don't think you understand how grave this situation is, Mingi."
"I-"
"What're you guys talking about?" A familiar voice called out. Mingi sighed and turned to look at Jongho who was running toward his with a wide grin, waving his hand like a child. "Mingi, I know where we have to go now! The guard said the waiting room is there, in that big building next to the arena." He stated, pointing at a semi-worn-out building in the distance. The building's grey, moss-covered walls created a haunting picture in Mingi's mind and he sure wished the building would look better on the inside. The furniture better be nice. "And who's this? Is he your friend?" Jongho cocked his head to the side, an innocent pout on his lips.
Seonghwa huffed and looked away from the red-haired, sticking close to the taller elf. "I'm Seonghwa, Park Seonghwa." He said sternly, gripping onto Mingi's left arm. "I own a local jewelry shop here." He added, ending the conversation right there. Jongho blinked in confusion, slowly nodding with pursed lips. It seems Jongho hadn't realized Seonghwa's annoyed mood yet, and that's what Mingi was fearing.
"Oh! I don't think we've met yet." Jongho smiled brightly, his gums showing. Seonghwa hummed, looking at the hand in front of him, contemplating whether to shake it or not, but he didn't necessarily fancy being impolite. "Uh, Choi Jongho. That's my name if you didn't know it already. I don't know if Mingi mentioned me when I was talking with the other guards." He explained, a blush dancing on his cheeks out of pure embarrassment.
"No, he mentioned you, just not your name," Seonghwa said calmly, nibbling with his dangling earring. The piece of jewelry was one of his own creations; a silver crow with a blue jewel as its eye. A few years back, Mingi had mentioned it looked pretty on him and since then he's been wearing it almost every day, hoping to get some kind of a reaction out of the younger elf. "I heard you're not from around here, Jongho," Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, eyeing the berserker up and down.
Jongho's lip twitched, a look of horror replacing his features for a split second before it was replaced with a worried look. "I-" He started, worriedly glancing at Mingi's direction as if asking for help. "Yeah you — you could say that." He stuttered, scratching his nape out of awkwardness. "Did — have you heard anything else about me?"
Seonghwa snickered, finally letting go of Mingi's arm, a serious expression replacing his previous one. "Just the fact that you aren't an elf." He said. Mingi opened his mouth to say something but decided against it, grabbing Seonghwa's hand, feeling the several rings around his fingers. Seonghwa glanced over his shoulder at Mingi, his full attention on him and him only. "Mingi?" He asked, voice turning soft as if a switch was flicked just now. "Is something wrong?"
"Please, don't force the topic on him..." Mingi mumbled, some extra incoherent words leaving his lips in a rush. Seonghwa nodded gently, shifting his glare to Jongho. "Hwa, the festival should be beginning shortly, I have to go."
"I understand," Seonghwa mumbled, wrapping his arms around Mingi's waist one more time to hug him. The hug was swift, but it warmed his heart and calmed him down. Mingi smiled at the older's touchiness, accepting every little hug and kiss that was presented to him. "Be careful, Gigi. I'll be watching you." Seonghwa said, a smile decorating his lips wonderfully.
" I will," Mingi giggled at the cute nickname, unwrapping his arms around Seonghwa's torso. He looked at Jongho who was awkwardly watching the two interact with pursed lips. "Come on Jongho, let's go. You said you know the way to the waiting room, didn't you?" Mingi chuckled.
"Of course," Jongho said hastily, sprinting to his side immediately. "This way."
"Alright," Mingi smiled. "Bye, Hwa. We'll be seeing each other after the festival."
"Yeah, see you."
°❀°
Jongho pushed the heavy door open, a creak following it. It lead them to a hallway that was lit by the same red lanterns which were hanging from the streetlights. It wasn't anything special, just an ordinary hallway, a long one. But compared to the moss-ridden walls, the inside was much nicer. "Well then, shall we go?" Jongho raised an eyebrow, nudging the other playfully on his shoulder. A small yelp left Mingi's lips at the nudge but he brushed the thought away with a roll of his eyes.
As Jongho closed the wooden door behind him, Mingi observed the hallway, seeing a few people talking up ahead. The closer they got to them, the more Mingi began to realize they weren't from his village, the more he began to realize they weren't elves, to begin with. He halted in his steps, frozen in place as he watched the group interact with each other. What gained his attention was the unusual color of their hair; bright, royal blue. He had never seen anyone with blue hair before, at least not in his village and it intrigued him. It also made him fearful.
"What's he staring at us?"
"I don't know, ignore him. He's a weirdo."
Mingi hadn't even noticed that he had been staring at the group. What made him realize was the sudden silence in the hallway and the countless whispers sent his way. With a blink, he looked away from the group and turned to Jongho who was watching with narrowed eyes, observing the unknown people. He glanced at Mingi who seemed to be unsure of the situation himself and pushed the said elf behind him. "Are you guys going to compete in the festival?" He called for them, gaining their attention. Mingi widened his eyes and was ready to silence him but Jongho kept going. "If not, I have to kindly ask you to leave, this place is for competitors only."
This was one of the moments Mingi would like to bury himself in a hole and disappear from sight. He didn't want to cause any problems and Jongho had seemed to notice his distress as well, placing a hand on his shoulder for reassurance. "Maybe it's not a good idea to pick a fight with those guys, Jongho..." Mingi whispered behind the berserker, gripping onto his shirt for comfort even though he was towering over him because of the height difference. "Jongho-"
"Who are you to tell us that? Are you a competitor yourself Mr. muscle man?" One of the men laughed slyly, leaning against the wooden wall. "You look lost yourselves. Do you need help finding your way out? Out of this village perhaps?" He said with a lazy smirk. This made Jongho's lip twitch in annoyance and he sure hoped it wasn't visible because he was boiling with anger inside.
"Oh, I'm not the one who's fighting, prince Mingi is," Jongho said with a smooth grin, pointing at Mingi who was standing behind him, nervously biting his lip, almost drawing blood from it. If he could've, he would've loved to show them their reaction when he had mentioned Mingi's title, but oh well. "It's his first time being here, so obviously, seeing new people makes him nervous."
The man who had laughed shut up quickly, pursing his lips together and spewing something that seemed to be countless curse words. "Sure." He rolled his eyes in irritation, glaring at Mingi before ignoring the pair completely. Jongho laughed silently, taking Mingi's hand and leading him to the right room on the left. The elf followed put behind him and looked around the building in awe.
When they reached the main building Mingi was breath-taken by the interior of the waiting room. For starters, it was gloriously decorated with wine-red wallpapers with golden flowers embedded into it. Two huge pillars that were at least 4 meters tall stood before him, looking grand as ever. The room was bustling with life, people everywhere. It didn't tone down his anxiety at all and even Jongho seemed to pick up on this, leading him towards a less-crowded corner. Although the festival was only beginning, everyone was already seated at the long tables, glasses full of what looked (and smelled) like their finest grape wine.
Their attires were something Mingi was blown by, majestic and noble-like. He felt rather small in everyone's presence but ignored the gut-twisting feeling in his stomach and focused on the scent of wine and food in the air. Some of the guests had noticed the elf prince and his guard, eyeing the pair from afar like they were something unknown to them. The hall got fairly quiet when they settled down on some benches next to the wall, everyone's attention thoroughly on Mingi and his companion.
The elf gulped down the lump in his throat, looking down at his shiny black shoes for comfort (of course this didn't really help). Cocking his head to the side, he whispered something to Jongho so quietly even the berserker didn't hear him. With a silent curse, he spoke a little louder. "Why's everyone staring at us?" He whisper-yelled, a bead of sweat forming on his neck. "This definitely isn't what I had expected. I hope it won't be like this when we get to the main arena."
"Ever considered they might be staring because of how you look, Mingi?" Jongho countered, whispering back. Mingi widened his eyes looking down at his outfit in confusion as if there was something wrong with his attire. "You look excellent, don't worry. I think everyone's staring at you because you look too fancy for this event. They're jealous." He grinned lazily.
"Me? Too fancy?" Mingi said, a crease forming between his brows. He switched his gaze from his pants to Jongho only to see him smiling widely at him, small crescents forming in his eyes. It almost, almost melted the iceberg of nervousness in his heart, but not entirely. Despite the warm aura Jongho radiated, Mingi couldn't help but feel a little on edge about the whole situation. He never wanted this in the first place as he was forced to compete by his father's orders. Seonghwa's words made him even more nervous. "They can stare all they want, I don't care. It's not like I look terrible." He grinned back, trying to contain the disappointment in his heart.
"Right, of course-"
"I will not let you fight with that outfit! You look hideous, disgusting!" A sudden, loud voice resounded in the hall. Everyone turned their heads towards the abrupt noise at the door, Mingi and Jongho included. "Your piercings are a disgrace here, I won't tolerate something this sickening here, get out of here before I'll throw you out myself!"
"Come on, this?" Another voice, a deeper one responded, a hint of playfulness in it. "You're saying this is hideous? Do you not have an eye for good clothing?"
"I'm saying this outfit of yours isn't pleasing to look at. As I said, it looks terrible on you." The previous man yelled impatiently. Mingi had spotted the yelling man at the doorway, shouting at someone tall, very tall. "Yunho, please go change your outfit into something more traditional, I beg of you." He pleaded, stiff shoulders slumping down in defeat when the other only shook his head. "You're going to compete in that?"
"Why of course I will. Why wouldn't I? I want to fight with style, Mr. Daesung. I'm sure you understand." The man named Yunho declared, quirking up an eyebrow as the corners of his lips lifted upwards. "Also, who are you to boss me around? I don't live in our village anymore so why would I need to follow those silly rules?" He said, leaning against the doorway. "I'm here to have a little fun since the chief sent me an invitation letter, that's all. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go sit somewhere more peaceful." He added with a wide, warm grin.
Everyone's eyes were glued on Yunho's figure as he stepped into the awkwardly silent hall, looking around for an empty seat someplace quiet. Mingi, too, was watching the unknown man, but something more interesting piqued interest in him; his outfit.
This man named Yunho was drop-dead gorgeous. Mingi could've sworn he saw something shimmering under the see-through shirt he was wearing. Yunho's outfit seemed to gain attention from the other guests as well considering what he was wearing was nothing like the traditional outfits everyone else had on. It was closer to Mingi's outfit which made him glad he wasn't the only one with taste. Jongho seemed to ignore the commotion as he was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.
And when Yunho seated himself on a wooden chair situated on the opposite wall, his silky shirt shifted with his movements. Mingi's eyes went wide when he saw the other. Yunho's gorgeous markings reached from his back all the way to his toned stomach. The dark tattoos gracefully complimented the golden piercing on his belly which made Mingi's heart race for some reason or another.
Then it happened. A smirk, a simple smirk from him was able to set Mingi's cheeks aflame and he wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not. It probably wasn't since the stares he got from Yunho were more intense than the ones his father gave him this morning.
For the first time in a while, Mingi was completely flustered because of someone, and that someone was Yunho whom he didn't even know.
#ateez#yunho#mingi#yungi#ao3#ateez yungi#jongho#ao3 writer#writer#fanfiction#ao3 author#elves#fluff#cute
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