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stanknotstark · 3 years

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5 Times Loki Held Your Hand and One Time You Held His

Only realizing it when they have to let go

You and Loki had become close friends when he came down with Thor. You were friends with Jane and through her knowing Thor scored a job at Stark Enterprise in R&D. This is where you basically just played with Tony’s new toys to make sure they work correctly and efficiently. Tony had invited you to live at Stark tower so you didn’t have to make an hour commute every day. Thus when Thor came down with Loki you ran into him randomly in the tower.

You two first met one night when you couldn’t sleep and decided to wander the tower. Your final destination was one of the common areas that held a bar and an open view of the entire city with floor to ceiling windows.

You had entered the common area and spotted a dark figure sitting in front of the windows. Clearing your throat the figure looks at you and you realize it’s Loki.

“Mind if I join? I can totally leave if you’d prefer.” You say nervously from in front of the elevator.

Loki looks you up and down with his eyes then shrugs. You take that as a cue to do whatever you please. So, you make your way over to him and sit far enough you don’t touch but close enough that you share companionship.

It’s silent for awhile but you can tell Loki is thinking so you stay quiet and just look across the lights lighting up the never sleeping city.

“Are you not scared?” Loki finally breaks the silence and asks.

You look at him confused. “Of what?”

Loki looks at you, now confused too. “Of me.”

You really look at Loki. He has bags under his eyes, almost too hidden to see and you can see his face holds line of stress. His features are taught as if trying to hold himself back from something.

“No.” You say, taking your eyes off him and looking at the city again.

“Why? I could kill you.” Loki nearly demands but his voice doesn’t raise from the almost whisper you had both adopted.

“And? Anyone could. Natasha could, a random stranger on the street could, hell I’m sure a really dedicated cat could kill me. I can kill myself. Why are you so special?” You say, your left hand coming up to rest in between your knees where you lay your chin. Your right hand stays on the floor to support yourself. You don’t look at Loki.

However, you do hear him scoff. After a few seconds when you’re sure he’s not looking at you anymore he chuckles. “I would ask if you’re alright but I don’t particularly care.”

At this you laugh lightly, “I didn’t ask for you to care.” You look at Loki who turns to look at you, squinting.

“You’re weird.” He says and you shrug with a smile still on your face. “I like it.”

You both go silent and look out at the city. Loki breaks the silence again by asking what certain buildings are and their functions. Through your explanations both of you fail to realize Loki let his left hand drift and cover your right hand still on the floor. It’s natural and you both like it subconsciously.

When you yawn you go to raise both your arms and Loki realizes he had been holding your hand and pulls away like he’s burnt. You don’t say anything about it, you’re not even bothered by it, you simply stretch and stand.

“I’m tired. Good night.” You say, Loki nods, and you make your way to the elevator and to your wonderful bed that sits waiting for you.

Not wanting to lose each other in a big crowd

The next time you hold hands isn’t for another month.

Your relationship has developed a lot since that night in the tower. You’re practically inseparable and spend hours together daily. Loki appreciates your humor and non judgmental attitude about him. You enjoy his sarcasm, wit, and love for knowledge. Of course there is more you both love about each other but you keep it simple.

Today, Loki has agreed to attend Stark’s Expo with you. He is curious as to what Earth has to offer with science and technology. He relishes in the fact that you turn and look at him and accept his offered hand to drag him from table to table, without losing each other in the crowd. You explain what everything is and how it works. You were obviously passionate about technology and science and what new things these students had to offer. Loki found he really enjoyed whatever it was that made you so passionate and animated about the new tech.

You keep a tight hold on his hand as you both make your way around the convention room and if he squeezes your hand back with just as much vigor he knows you won’t say anything.

You both finally make it to the center stage where Tony is supposed to appear for a grandiose speech on the winners of the Stark Fund scholarship. When you both sit down in seats not far from the stage you keep holding Loki’s hand.

Loki vaguely hears what you’re saying but more so is focused on how well both your hands fit. While his is cold, yours is warm, where his is calloused and rough, yours is delicate and soft, while his is big yours is small. He thinks that there could be no better fit. He could hold your hand forever. Unfortunately you let go of his hand when you make it to the car, after the expo is over, but he vows that you will hold his hand again.

Grabbing hand to show them something

This time, when Loki grabs your hand, you’re both on the roof of the tower waiting for a meteor shower. He grabs it in between your conversation when he spots the first meteor and points at the sky.

“Look.” He says watching you watch the meteors flash across the sky like shooting stars, as you had called them.

He lovingly watches as your mouth opens a little, your face filled with mirth and excitement. From his spot he sees your eyes practically twinkling.

“It’s beautiful.” He hears you whisper.

“It truly is.” He says, still staring at you adoringly.

You turn and look at him with a smile. “Thanks.” You say in reference to him bringing you out to experience this.

Loki gives a small smile, closed lip, and a short nod in understanding. “Any time.”

You both look back at the sky and watch as one more lonely meteor passes and then it’s over all too soon. You sigh, look at the ground in an attempt to look at Loki’s hand holding yours, then look up at the god.

“I’m sure I’ll never see them up close but this is just as magical.” You say.

Loki purses his lips in thought. “If that is your wish, I shall make it happen, some day.” He says with determination.

You smile again, something you can’t stop doing around the god, “I’ve no doubt you’ll achieve this, somehow.” You laugh a little.

Loki smiles down at you, lifts your hand to his lips, and kisses it.

“Shall we go back inside and try some of the Moon berries Thor brought back?”

You nod excitedly and rush to the door with Loki behind, never releasing each others hands.

Possessive hand-holding

You’re attending Stark’s gala for some charity you’ve never heard of. Tony had told you to attend so you could make some connections and further your research with funding. Loki had agreed to be your plus one when you asked him a few days before. That’s how you found yourself in a dark, emerald halter dress that flowed to your feet in elegance. Loki wore a three piece suit, the outer suit jacket and pants black, the inner vest the same dark, emerald as your dress, and a white button up underneath.

What you don’t expect is for all the men to flock to you when Loki excuses himself to grab you both a drink. You’re surrounded by three men asking you questions about your work but you can read the flirt in between their words. You act nice but don’t play into their flirtations. When they start to lean closer to you you start to get a bit uncomfortable.

Luckily you spot Loki not too far away coming to you with a soft glare on his features. You know he’s downplaying the glare so he doesn’t outright scare everyone in his path. You knew all too well Loki could very likely kill someone with his infamous glare.

When Loki makes it back you subconsciously hover into his side and take your drink from his hand with a small thanks. When his hand is free Loki’s hand finds its way down your arm and takes your hand into his. He smiles at the three men sharply and you introduce Loki as your date. The three men back off but don’t leave quite yet.

Once they’ve asked all their questions they leave you with their business cards and stalk off to their next victim.

You wait till they’re far enough and deflate a little with a small sigh. Looking up at Loki, who looks down at you concerned, you smile reassuringly and take a sip of the champagne in your hand.

“I need to give Stark more credit and I now understand why he hates these things.” You say after your sip of the dry alcohol, shaking your head, “Everyone in here is like a shark waiting to feed on you if you show an ounce of weakness.”

Loki chuckles. “They’ll have to get through me before they even look at you.” Loki empathetically says, squeezing your hand.

You look away from Loki, “So, technically, are we dating? Is this what’s going on? Because I’m honestly a little confused.” You say shyly. Squeezing his hand in yours.

Loki doesn’t say anything so you look at him a little anxious that you might have crossed some unseen boundary. When you look into his eyes he finally answers. “Is that what you want?”

“I mean,” You bring your drink to your lips, let the drink coat your mouth, swallowing, and cherish that Loki is leaning into you with anticipation, “Yes. Quite frankly I’ve been wanting this for months now.” You finally say with an opened mouth smirk.

Loki smirks too. “Then yes, we’re dating, exclusively.” He adds the last part in case that wasn’t explicitly clear.

You watch as Loki takes a drink of the champagne and his Adams apple bobs, his neck is bared to you and you want to lick a stripe up it. The moment is over too soon and you look at Loki with a glare.

“What’s a girl got to do to get a kiss around here?”

Loki smirks, places his drink on the counter you stand next to and looks at you with a raised brow. You smile. Loki then uses his free hand to cup your face, stare at you with amazement that this is actually happening, then close the short distance between you two and finally kiss you.

Only linking the pinkies together, not ready to let go completely

It’s a few weeks after the gala and officially dating Loki that you hold hands again. This time it’s in public. You’re both walking central park, mostly so you could get some fresh air. After the gala you had made a lot of connections and were getting unbelievable funding for your personal projects which in turn had you cooped up inside working constantly. Loki took it upon himself to get you out and about.

You had both been totally besotted in each other and talking about random exciting things while walking and holding hands, when you make it to Bethesda Fountain. At the sight of it you ramble on about having change to throw and pull Loki towards it with glee. As you near it you both pull your hands away but only enough to still hang on my the pinky. You turn and look at Loki with a loving look, bring the god’s face to down to kiss you, then let go of his hand completely to cup his jaw with both hands. After you pull back Loki opens his eyes to fall in love with the way you look at him.

“We both make a wish when we throw in our pennies, ok?” You ask, completely pulling from Loki’s hold and searching in your purse for two pennies. Loki watches you with a frown but accepts the penny you give him.

When you both stand at the edge of the fountain you count down from three and as the pennies hit the water you both silently make your wishes. Loki wishes for marriage with you and he’s honestly not quite sure what you wish for. He questions if he’s moving too fast but disregards that thought. Both of you had been very romantic leading up to dating and knew each other inside and out from constantly spending time together. Just because it’s only been official a few weeks means nothing. Loki knows he wants you forever.

You turn to look at Loki and wag a finger, “Don’t tell me what you wished for or it won’t come true!”

Loki smiles and grabs your hand again, “Then I shall keep my lips shut, darling.”

+1 comparing hand sizes, then linking fingers together

It’s you who initiates the hand holding this time. It’s a couple of months into dating when you do it. Loki will never forget it because you had initiated it this time.

You’re both casually spending time in the common area with Nat, Clint, and Thor when it happens. You’re sitting across from Loki, both of you with crossed legs, playing a game of cards with him on the big couch Stark has. Nat and Clint are making bets as to who is going to win each round and Thor is fascinated as you explain everything going on in the game.

Loki goes to flip his card when you stop talking to Thor and grab his hand. Loki looks up at you confused but watches with fascination as you flatten his hand out then put yours up to it and compare sizes. His hand looks like it could engulf yours. You hum thoughtfully and intertwine your fingers with his and return to the game as if nothing just happened, setting your hands to the side of the game on the couch.

Loki himself feels a little breathless but takes is a small gasp when Thor claps his shoulder.

“Brother you’re at 19 are you truly sure you want to get hit again?” Thor asks.

Loki glances back at Thor but disregards him and looks at you instead. You look innocent enough but the spark in your eyes says you know what you’ve just done to Loki.

Loki clears his throat. “Hit me, the risk is well worth it.”

He watches as you give him a faced down card next to his jack and nine cards.

You look up at him with a smirk, “Try your luck, Mischief.” You say.

Loki raises a brow then turns the card you gave him.

It’s an ace.

Loki smirks at you when you gasp and look at his cards with wide eyes. Natasha groans and pays Clint, Thor laughs roaringly.

Both of your hands are still linked on the couch. Loki uses his thumb to caress your thumb and says, “What’s even more satisfying is that I didn’t even have to cheat.”

You look at Loki with a mix of awe and satisfaction. “And here I thought I was the lucky one in this relationship.”

Loki chuckles, “You’re severely mistaken.” He says, obviously not talking about the game anymore when he gives you a look full of tenderness and love.

#5 times loki held your hand and one time you held his #whoa it took me freaking 4 hours to write this completely out in one sittingXDD #loki x reader #loki #reader insert #my writing #one shot #5 times #ill write more 5 times one shots but only occasionally #because they take a few hours to write and research what i want to do lol #all my 5 times shots will be tagged under '5 times'#and ill put them on the master list too #i hope you guys enjoy idk if im gonna beta read this cuz my neck and back hurt from not sitting properly to write lol #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #ok i beta read it and i can't promise i caught everything but damn there were some big mistakes in there XD #enjoy!

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guardianofrivendell · 3 years

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Uh, so I'mma request something because I really like your writing and want more of your wonderful Aragorn fics in my life. So, I was thinking some headcannons about what it would be like to date/be in a relationship with Aragorn before, during and/or after the fellowship? Thanks man, and take as long as you need!💕

A/N: I am STRUGGLING with sleepover requests, my own series (PS and DAKT) and some new stuff so I turned to my stack of ‘normal’ requests to try and write something different. Et voilà!

@katethewriter I took a lot longer than I should have with these and I’m so sorry! I’m leaning more towards the Hobbit era lately (I’m really turning into a Dwarf simp here), and I’m neglecting the fellowship members. Unforgivable!

I interpreted this as how your relationship would develop while on the quest to destroy the ring and you’re not actually together at the start of it. Also maybe slightly OOC Aragorn.

A/N 2: It has some nsfw hints (not much), I couldn’t help myself and it’s very unlike Aragorn I think but I’m not sorry. Also this turned out really long, I am sorry for that.

A/N 3: Just like my other headcanons, this doesn’t make much sense so best to simply ignore this. I really don’t know what this is... :)

Being In a Relationship With Aragorn On The Quest Would Go Like This:

Aragorn had met you in some seedy pub

Not his first choice to take shelter from the weather but after days and days of endless rain and trudging through mud it was almost nice to be there

at least he was able to dry his clothes and have a warm meal

he was surprised to see someone like you there

surprised but concerned too

for your wellbeing that is

every single person in that bar had his eyes on you the minute you moved

Aragorn had too but for entirely different reasons

at least that’s what he told himself

so the minute one of those drunk lads laid a hand on you he was on his feet

knight in shining armor ranger clothes

before he got to you, you had floored and knocked out your assailant, threatening the others they would suffer the same fate if they tried something similar

Aragorn stood frozen in place, completely mesmerized by you

and maybe a tad bit aroused too

the life of a ranger is very lonely after all

you winked at him and left the bar shortly after

Aragorn couldn’t get you out of his head

but what were the odds he would ever run into you again

he even returned to that godawful place a few times

a guy can hope right

you can imagine his surprise when he saw you in Rivendell

attending the secret council

he was jaw on the floor surprised

he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you

on the outside he was the cool ranger of the north, bringer of Hobbits, inventor of the Sexy But Still Rough Around The Edges Stare™

while on the inside he was f r e a k i n g o u t

because there you were, finally within reach

but then Frodo had to sacrifice himself

and Aragorn could not not go with him

he absolutely lost it when you volunteered as well

there was no way you were going to put your life on the line like that

you scoffed at his remark

wait did he said that out loud?

“I can handle myself just fine.”

Oh he knew that

Flashes of the bar fight filled his mind

it filled something else too 😏

so Aragorn had set himself a second goal

besides getting Frodo and the ring to Mordor he now vowed to keep you safe as well

and to make you his by the time you would arrive at Mordor

but we all know how smooth that will go do we

the first few days and weeks it went reasonably well

you have to read that as ‘he didn’t embarass himself in front of you’

because there was no progress at all on any other front

you seemed to prefer the company of the Hobbits over him or any other member of the fellowship

he tried to make conversation with you every time you walked near him

A+ for effort

when the Crebain flew over his instinct was to make sure Frodo (and Sam because those two were attached at the hip) was out of sight

after that he searched for you, but Legolas had already pulled you under the bushes with him

surely the feeling in his stomach was the fault of the Lembas bread

because Aragorn doesn’t get jealous

but then the same thing happened in Moria

you weren’t a fan of the dark and claustrophobic mines so he let you walk up front with Gandalf and Frodo near the light of Gandalf’s staff

with him right behind you of course

when the Orcs and Troll attacked, he tried to stay near you

keep an extra eye out for you, driving the Orcs away who were trying to get to you

it was you together with Legolas who defeated the troll, high fiving each other over a job well done

okay fine maybe Aragorn did get jealous this time

like he had done his best to protect you but did you notice?

then when Gandalf fell you surprisingly turned to him for comfort

leaving Legolas, Gimli and Boromir to comfort the Hobbits

take that Leaf Boi

even though it felt really good to hold you, he knew you couldn’t stay there

so he ordered everyone to get going, taking the lead

and then Lothlorien happened

a forest that was both magical and romantic

perfect setting for a love confession right

when he finally got you alone he chickened out at the last moment

because OF cOUrsE

luckily for him you did not

you almost knocked him over in your attempt to kiss him

he eagerly reciprocated the kiss though

no complaints there

but he also explained that even though he wanted this, the quest and Frodo had to come first

which you respected and understood, but you were also willing to test his resolve 👀

you didn’t tell the others

but they didn’t need an explanation, it’s not like you two were subtle

he held your hand whenever he could

Gimli couldn’t help but commenting on it, Aragorn explaining it was to prevent you from falling or tripping

“Lad, you’re sitting down in a boat...”

cue roaring laughter and flushed cheeks on Aragorn

although the fellowship supported your relationship they couldn’t help but tease Aragorn relentlessly

lots of sneaky forehead kisses

during the rest of the quest Aragorn did his best to keep you out of harm’s way

to your own frustration of course, you weren’t helpless or as fragile as he made you seem

you fought alongside Boromir when Uglúk shot him

they took Merry and Pippin and dragged you away from Boromir’s body

the one time Aragorn wasn’t at your side and you got kidnapped

you weren’t going to hear the end of this

needless to say Aragorn was indeed beside himself with worry

he couldn’t get a break

first Frodo gone, then Boromir shot and now it seemed he failed his promise to himself

enter brooding Aragorn

but he knew you were brave and could take care of yourself - you had repeated that countless times - so he was sure he was going to find you

AND HE DID

after three days of running with a dartling Elf and a wheezing Dwarf they bumped into Éomer and his horse gang

before he could ask Éomer if he saw you or the Hobbits, one of his riders jumped off their horse and made a beeline for him

Legolas notched an arrow and Gimli raised his axe but you simply shoved them aside and threw your arms around Aragorn

relieved kisses

the hug lasted several minutes until Legolas cleared his throat

oh right... audience

you shared a horse with Aragorn on the way to Edoras

while with King Théoden Aragorn kept an arm around your waist or a hand on the small of your back the entire time

as if he had to make sure you were still there

Éowyn who?

The Battle of Helm’s Deep was torture for Aragorn

he wanted to stay with you but you both knew you would be too distracted by each other

it took him a while to find you after the battle was won

few years of his life were lost in panic

but of course you were alright, already helping with the wounded

now it was his turn to sweep you off your feet

quite literally too

as the quest progressed, it became clear to Aragorn that he had to take up his rightful place as the King of Gondor when the time came

so during the victory feast after Helm’s Deep he took you outside for a walk

cue comments and whistling from Gimli

but Aragorn only wanted to talk to you

to make sure you knew what you were getting yourself into if you stayed with him

were you ready to be the spouse of a King?

of course he made it seem as if he was going to ditch you

because that man is angst embodied

everything to keep you safe right?

luckily as soon as it was clear that no, he wasn’t going to ditch you and yes, this was kind of a hastily thrown together proposal in a way, you kissed him saying that as long as you were at his side you were ready for anything

as long as you were together

Aragorn taglist: @katethewriter @lovemusic26alwaysblog @sokkasdarling @snailcoveredcottage

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje @kata1803 @entishramblings @artsywaterlily @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose @marvelschriss @kumqu4t @myrin1234 @dark-angel-is-back @the-fandoms-georgie @lathalea @xxbyimm @sokkasdarling @katethewriter @aredhel-of-gondolin @leethology @elvish-sky @moony-artnstuff @emmapotato8 @kirenia15 @vicmackeybullshxt @moarfandomtrash

#Aragorn x reader #Aragorn headcanons #Aragorn imagine #lotr #Lord of the rings #Lotr fanfiction #Lord of the rings headcanons #Lord of the rings imagine #Aragorn x you #Lord of the rings x reader

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desiredmalfoy · 3 years

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True Love Is Eternal (D.M x Reader + F.W. x Reader)

Pairing: Draco x Reader, Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Note this is going to be changing from 1st person to 2nd and 3rd person.

Enjoy the final installment of the Dear Malfoy Series! Fred’s POV! Thank you for everyone who has shown love to my writing! You don’t know how much I appreciate it (it means a lot to me).

Dear Malfoy [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] (Masterlist)

The invitation to your wedding invitation came suddenly in the mail. It came addressed to the Weasley family, which I guess includes me. No, it did include me. You put that in the invitation. I didn’t even realize that I was holding in my breath as I opened up the intricate wedding invitation. The Malfoys are not sparing any expense on this. He would give you nothing but the best in life. He had been fine for the past couple of years, he had managed to get you out of his head for the longest time. He had even been in a serious relationship but that did work out. But it seems like the news of your wedding brought all these feelings back. Maybe all these old feelings resurfacing because of the news of your marriage but not because he actually still loved her. Or maybe in the back of his mind, he’d always wish you would have a moment of revelation where you realized who truly loved him.

We are honored to invite you to

the unity of marriage of

Draco Lucius Malfoy

(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N)

Your name is written in beautiful intricate gold cursive. Taunting me with every letter written. He ran his fingers over where your name was printed, reminiscing of the moments he had with you.

It was the middle of summer and the both of you were laying on the grass outside the burrow. You were looking up at the night sky admiring the millions of stars. Moments like these were the ones he hoped were forever.

“What do you want to do when we leave this place”, Fred had asked her out of nowhere.

“Get my own place. I love my parents but I want to have my own space.”

“Oh! And get a kitten!” (Y/N) excitedly added. “I really want to get a kitten.”

“I’ll get you as many as you would like”, he said as he hugged her tightly.

“Is this your way of asking me to move in with you”, she teased him and his cheeks had become red from blushing.

“Not yet but one day in the future hopefully.” He answered as he envisioned them with a few cats and maybe a baby or two. “And you know I’ll have my shop by then too.”

He wished he could go to the past.

——-

Fred dwelled on the thought of going to your wedding. The invitation had been extended to the entire family, including him. After everything that had occurred, (y/n) had always been on good terms with the rest of the Weasley family. She had even eventually forgiven George for not telling her. George had explained to him that she forgave him to let go of the past and move on.

Fred had thought he would keep on seeing you every summer as the previous ones before. You had always come to stay at least for a couple of days to see Ron and Ginny before you dated him. But the summer after his 7th year and (y/n)’s 5th it all changed. He anticipated your arrival but didn’t want to ask any of his siblings if they knew you’d be coming over. He stupidly thought that he would be able to at least fix your friendship that summer. It wasn’t until he had overheard a conversation between Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Harry that he knew you weren’t going to show up.

“I received an owl from her today.”, Ginny said excitedly as she sat down, a white envelope in her hand.

“How is she? I miss her greatly this summer.” Hermione asked as she reached for that same envelope from Ginny.

“She said she’s definitely enjoying Paris with Draco.”

“He took her to Paris”, Ron asked, shocked at the revelation. “The bloke has only been dating her for like eight months and he’s already taking her on expensive trips?’

“It’s Malfoy. Did you expect anything less”, Harry answered with a slight eye roll. “He’d buy her a castle if she would just let him.”

“I knew Malfoy always goes all out but I didn’t think he would take her on vacation so soon!”

“What do you expect?” Ginny laughed at Ron’s still confused expression. “He’s madly in love with her. He’s even nice to Harry of all people just for her.”

“That was the most surprising thing of all”, Hermione agreed with her with a giggle. “Who knew all it took to stop Malfoy from being such a prat was for (y/n) to date him.”

“I mean he even called Harry by his first name the last time we saw him instead of Potter”, Ron added to the conversation.

“I still miss her this summer”, Ginny complained with a groan. “It’s not the same without her.”

That was the beginning of you spending every summer with Draco instead of at the Burrow with the Weasley’s like every other summer.

———

He was walking along Hogsmeade after a long day of work. He was headed towards the Three Broomsticks to meet up with George who had taken a few days off from the shop that day. He hadn’t been feeling well the past few days and Fred had told him to stay home. He was finally feeling better and to celebrate, George had asked him to meet there for a couple of drinks. It was a pretty calm evening with a few people walking about the area. Fred mostly went unnoticed by others just trying to get home for the night.

That’s when he saw you coming out of the dress store with your mother and Narcissa Malfoy by your side. (Y/N) had a huge grin on her face as she carried a large white box with a beautiful ribbon to tie it all up. It was your wedding dress. He just knew it was that. A large smile decorated your face as you seemed ecstatic about the contents of the box. He turned quickly into a different alleyway to avoid running into you.

He was going to be needing something stronger than butterbeer tonight.

——-

Fred and George were currently on their way to their parent’s home to visit them for the evening. Life had been hectic and he hadn’t had a chance to see them in a couple of days. Plus it was one night where he would not have to cook for himself and George. Nothing beats a home-cooked meal from your mum on days like these.

They didn’t even bother knocking as they entered the home.

“Mum your favorites have arrived”, Fred announced loudly teasingly as he saw Ron sitting on the couch.

“I didn’t know Charlie and Bill were dropping by”, Ron said without lifting his gaze from the book on his lap.

“That hurts Ronnie”, George played around as he wiped a fake tear from his cheek.

“Anyway, where is mum?”

“They’re upstairs trying on the bridesmaid dressed for the future Mrs. Malfoy’s wedding”, Ron said with a snicker. “Mione and Ginny I mean.”

“I still can’t believe that it’s coming up so soon”, Fred responded as he sat next down to his brother.

“I am just excited about the food”, George said with a laugh. “I know it will be good.”

“Nice to know you care about me”, a teasing voice said from the stairs. Fred knew that voice and giggle anywhere. They all turned to where the voice was coming from.

“You know what I mean”, George said with a smile. He got up and greeted (y/n) with a hug. “It’s nice to see you again.”

He caught a glimpse of your engagement ring shining in light. Only the best for you.

“I’ve been busy”, she answered simply. “Weddings are a big thing to plan. Especially one that is only a about a two weeks away”

“How the joke shop?” (Y/N) questioned George. “Ginny has told me it’s been going amazingly for you two.”

“Right it has been”, George agreed. “Those Hogwarts kids are great customers. Right, Freddie?”

“Way to make us seem old Georgie”, Fred laughed as he looked directly at her. “It’s nice to see you (y/n).”

“Nice to see you too Fred”, she said, giving him a friendly smile. Not the same one she would give him years ago.

“Are you staying for dinner darling”, mum said as she came down the stairs with Ginny and Hermione trailing just behind.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Weasley”, (y/n) apologized. “I would love to but I had promised my parents I’d be eating with them tonight. Plus I still have to get home and see if Draco is back from work.”

You’d made a home with him already. One that he had promised you all those years ago.

“Don’t worry darling.” Mum said with a gentle smile. “You’re invited to dinner whenever you would like.”

“Thank you so much.” (Y/N) said as she hugged mum goodbye. She waved to everyone else and she was gone out the door.

———

The day of the wedding finally came and he had decided to go. He wanted an opportunity to see you dressed in white. Fred walked over with his family to the Malfoy Manor. They’re escorted to the garden in the back to wait for the beginning of the ceremony. It was decorated with your favorite flowers, white roses. Flowers that symbolized innocence, youthfulness, eternal loyalty.

The eternal loyalty you were about to pledge to Malfoy for the rest of your lives.

Fred anxiously waited for the ceremony to start. He looked around the space and saw many of his former classmates interacting with each other. It wasn’t long before the ceremony started.

Draco enters….

Your wedding party enters….

Everyone stands for your entrance….

The wedding march starts….

You walk down the aisle hand in hand with your father. You looked stunning in your wedding dress. Darling how I wish I was the one watching you walk towards me. You don’t spare a glance to where I’m standing. I’m probably the farthest thing from your mind. And I’m glad you don’t because I don’t think my heart would take it. He watches on a Malfoy cries at the sight of you walking towards him. Fred knew if he was in his place he’d probably do the same.

Because even though all I want to do is run up to that alter and tell you exactly how I feel, I simply won’t. I've seen how happy you are with him, and I can't ever do that to you. Even though I sit here to watch you wed another man and break my heart in the process.

Why am I even here? Why did I even come?

He watches as you pledge your love for Draco. Vowing to stay with him every moment of your lives together. He watched as you said “I do” through your tears.

You make such a lovely bride. Maybe in another lifetime or reality, you’re mine. But in this one darling, we just weren’t meant to be.

Maybe in another lifetime, I’ll be able to hold you close and never let go. In this one, I foolishly took you for granted and let you slip from my arms into the firm grasp of another man.

I knew I shouldn’t have come, but I couldn’t resist seeing you in white.

Because sometimes two souls are only meant to just be in each other’s life for a while; awaiting the lifetime where they’ll meet again but this time forever.

Alternative Ending:

Fred stood alone in his shop tonight. Wanting to throw himself into work to ignore the pain in his chest. He took another swing of the bottle of fire whisky in an attempt to drown out all the intrusive thoughts running through his mind. He spent the evening thinking about how he wished it was him marrying you, waiting at the end of the aisle. You’d be getting married next week and he couldn’t do anything about it. He knew he messed up all those years ago, and he’d do anything to turn back time.

He heard the door chime as someone opened the door. He must have forgotten to lock up in his current state.

“We’re closed”, he yelled out towards the door. He didn’t bother to lift his head to talk to them. Not wanting to be seen in this state.

“Freddie?”

This caused an instant reaction from him. He’d know that voice anywhere.

“(Y/N/N)”, he whispered. He was afraid you’d disappear at any moment. A hallucination.

“I missed you. I need you.”

“I missed you too.”

I know it’s not the best alternative ending but I kind of left it open for the reader to decide. It is a little something for those who would choose Fred instead. Do they realize they actually loved Fred after all this time? Is Fred just losing it and imagining this? It’s up to you to decide!

Click here for Valentine’s Day Shipping

Taglist: @keepsmilingandstayhappy @sarcasticallywitty15 @adrianpuceyishot @dracoismybabey @little-me204 @loveforreading @stephaniewinchester-weasley @cronen

Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

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misumeaw-blog · 3 years

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13 Days 13 Fanfics | Counting down Albedo’s Birthday

Pairing : Albedo x GN! Reader

Genre : Fluff | Established relationship

Warning : None

Word count : 1,699 words

note : I can die peacefully now, I believe the entire family can hear me screaming. Day 13 will be based on Albedo's mail. I suck at kissing btw, sooo I tried

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Day 12 Moment of Birth Part 1: Midnight

Light from houses in the city of freedom starting to turn into darkness; but not all, liveliest place in the slumbering city in the lake still filled with drunkards and music from the bard. Angel share, is night-active with drinks and socializing drinkers.

You have a meeting with your friends to discuss what to give Albedo for his birthday, Although..

“You guys seriously haven’t kissed yet? It’s been nearly a year”

things seemed going in the completely wrong direction “Shhh quiet please, Captain Kaeya. It’s not a big deal, I understand he wanted to take things slow” Still, there are times where you yearn for more than hugs and pecks on your face.

“Our Chief Alchemist has really taken your advice Too well, Kaeya” Lady in purple attire and a large witch hat, decorated with roses spoke up “That little genius never opened up for this sort of relationship” eyepatch man took another gulp to his mouth “I’m still surprised you managed to make him fall for you”

“Kaeya, rude” lightly zapped the one-eyed captain before turning to you “If he doesn’t make the first step, you’d need to do it” she placed her finger on your lips “Alright, alright, stop everyone” you harsh your friends before things getting out of hand “I just wanted a piece of advice on what to give Albedo for his birthday, so how did this turned to-“ Yup, that sparked your idea.

Both Knights of Favonius glanced at each other then back to you “Do you still need our help?”

The following morning you knocked on the Acting Grand Master’s room “Come in” an assertive voice flew out from the wooden door “Good morning, Master Jean. Do you know where Klee is?” “Good morning, I think she’s by the lake near Wolvendom. Oh and if you’re going to meet her, please make sure she doesn’t explode all the fish” she spoke without looking at you, eyes on massive amounts of paperwork

“One other thing, Acting Grand Master. I would be greatly appreciated if you kindly grant Albedo’s leave on his birthday” you figured your boyfriend might need a day off, in case he wanted to spend time with you and Klee “Oh right, his birthday is approaching” she glanced at the calendar “Yes of course, please do send him my regards if I couldn’t inform him myself” Closing the door after thanking her, ‘alright, off to Wolvendom’ you recalled your plan

Explosions can be heard from afar, the little girl should be nearby. Fish flying out in the sky, big splash easily visible. A small girl in red clothing having fun tossing bombs into stilled water. You called for her and she turned around “Y/N! Klee missed you” red coat sprinting to you, hugging you as soon as you’re in her reach By now she sees you as another sibling, despite you’re actually dating her brother. “Having fun today mh Klee?” glancing at the amount of dead fish on the ground “Yup! The kind uncle at the fishing asso..asso..” “Fishing association?” “Yes! the fishing association told Klee there’s a bunch of new fish all over Mondstadt, Klee will blast them all” You know fishing normally is better for the fish, but you let it slide for her happiness “Hey Klee, I have to borrow your brother the day before his birthday; well, tomorrow, is that alright?” You crouch down to the little girl’s height “Aw, but Klee wanted to be with big brother Albedo..” “I know Klee, but by that time you would be asleep. Would you like to help me prepare snacks for Albedo then?” “Yayy, Klee wanna help!” “Alright, keep it between us m’kay?” Holding out a pinky finger for the young one to hook with hers

‘And to keep Albedo busy..’ You head to the fountain plaza to one of your boyfriend’s assistants, Timaeus. “Morning Timaeus, do you know where Sucrose is?” A bit weird to start a conversation about her, since you and Sucrose don’t really get along “Sucrose? I’m not sure. Do you want me to help find her?” “No, no no no, uh, Timaeus, I need you to help distract Albedo tomorrow, mild difficulty experiment, anything” “Is that all? All Right” Scholar alchemist agreed to lend you a hand “Thanks, Timaeus”

You headed off to your next destination ‘Alright, time for a hard part’ the last part of your plan is rather hard, you wondered if he gonna help you

“Mark it as done!” wow that was.. easy, perhaps it’s because of three high-quality bottles of wine in his hands. You asked.. or rather, hired anemo bard to play songs for the night and extra requested to let the wind carry the song to you.

In the evening, you have scouted the area you wanted to give the alchemist your gift and found the perfect place. An area where you can see both the city of freedom and the icy summit, high enough for the gentle breeze to flow, beautifully decorated with flowers and greenery. Starsnatch cliff, also the home of the flower which held meaning, the truest feelings of prodigal son, Cecilia.

The next day everything went according to plan. Light meal fully prepared with the help of the pyro girl, Timaeus kept Albedo busy so he couldn’t come home and caught you and Klee in action.

Quite late night when you knocked on Alice’s door, the blonde, still in his usual attire opened to greet the unknown guests. “Y/N? What are you doing here this late hour?” Judging from the angle of the moon, it's around 9-10 PM “Hey, what about me?” eyepatch covering male’s hand and he placed his elbow on the opened door, the alchemist only nodded to his presence “Evening Bedo, I would like to show you something, could you come with me please?” you don’t normally use the formal language after being with him for so long. He can sense your shyness from the way you speak and your body language “I’d love to go but Klee..”

You pointed to the man behind you “Don’t worry about little Klee, just go enjoy your time” he basically dragged the alchemist out of his house

Chitchat along the way, fingers intertwined with his “Not sleepy yet aren’t you?” you bent down and look at him in the eyes “Not at all, I’m rather excited about what you prepared for me” giggled to his answer “Good, 'cause the night is still young!” you have reached your destination, Large fabric covering the grassy ground, a basket filled with snacks lies atop, along with a flower vase to decorate the scenery. Log of wood has bags and books resting against it. The wind bringing the scent of white flowers and the tune of the harp. Moon and star shining bright, needlessly of other light sources.

“Didn’t know you had anything romantic in mind” he teased your boldness “..well, what do you think?” hiding your embarrassment and teases the alchemist back

Sitting down to the location you prepared, he started to examine the scene “There’s no musician nearby, nor to any instruments.. Am I the only one hearing the melody?” Trying to find a scientific explanation for a strange event “The wind carries messages. Was music not a kind of message too?” He wrapped his arms around your waist, drowning in the love you gave him

“Enjoying it hmm? Here, I prepared some light food for us” slowly getting plates and snacks out from the weaved basket, the fabric is soon filled with various types of dishes "You’re not gonna sit on your seat?” his arms tightened, head bury to your shoulder “..I don't want to move” it’s rare seeing him clingy to you like this “you’re adorable you know” finally commented on his action

“We got your favorite,” one of your dishes has turned to Albedo’s favorite “These are canapés, I chose bread base, topped with different types of savory” bite-sized dishes, you know he prefers smaller portions

Pointing to each topping one by one, explaining what each one is made of. In his eyes, you’re like a professional chef

“Bedo, check this one out” you pulled out Fisherman’s toast with clover ketchup, onions, cheese, and heart-shaped parleys “..Fish-Flavored Toast, Klee’s specialty. You’re so thoughtful, I have to thank her later” he pecked your cheek, definitely in love

“And we got desserts- after savory alright Bedo?” His hand was already reaching for the dish, you have to stop his fast hand Brownies, Berry Mille-Feuille, and a jar of chocolate chip cookies are all making him drool “Shall we dig in?” He suggested, perhaps the desserts engaging him.

Your hypothesis was turned down after seeing him having a high appetite for savory, you figured he actually wanted to savor your cooking

Hours passed and you both are finally full, cuddling against the wooden log, enjoying the melody floating in the air. His platinum hair reflects the elegant moonlight, half-lidded eyes resting against your neck, handheld on yours. You looked up in the sky- its almost time

“Albedo?” He replied with a sweet hum, glancing up at you “Do you know what day is tomorrow?” “..my birthday. but I still don’t understand why you chose to celebrate it tonight” “Wouldn’t be nicer to receive a gift directly after the clock strikes midnight?” Lifted his chin to face you, he’s so close to you, closer than usual

Both yours and his cheek painted rosy, he cupped your face and look deeply into your eyes. “was all this not my birthday gifts?” “nope.. would you like to find out what it is?”

Moon motions overhead, the clock strikes midnight, soft breeze touched exposed skin, the sound of the harp soaring in the sky. stars as the witness, Cecilia as the oath, feelings as vow sealed between the two bodies.

Hand slide by the side of his neck, placing on the backside and pulled him closer, half-lidded eyes slowly closed, chest-pounding hard, tilted your head to the side a little-

sweet lips finally placed on his loving ones, passionated and full of affection, butterflies flying in your stomach. After a while, you break the timeless kiss

“Happy birthday my beloved Albedo”

#albedo x reader #albedo genshin x reader #albedo x you #albedo x gn reader #13Days13AlbedoFanfics #genshin x you #genshin x gn reader

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sserpente · 4 years

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A/N: Request from @nebulousfishgills and myself. *giggles* Thomas Sharpe is back in time for Halloween season! Also, this is probably one of the cheesiest Imagines I’ve ever written. Be warned and enjoy!

Words: 2329 Warnings: so much fluff

Thomas Sharpe had stepped into your life rather unexpectedly. He had been looking for work in your brother’s mining company and, thanks to his experience, landed a well-paid job soon after. Your brother liked him. He was the true personification of Britishness—polite, considerate, a Gentleman… and he did love his tea.

Every year when the leaves began to grow too heavy on the trees, discolour and fall off, your brother held a feast to thank his employees for their hard work before the mines closed over the winter. You usually helped to prepare and cook and refill empty glasses; and last year you happened to have refilled Thomas’ glass. He had been smitten by you as much as you had been smitten by him and after countless rendezvous where he confided in you about his horrifying past, you now considered yourselves a couple.

It had been almost a year. Autumn was drawing near again and as you drove through a grove in a carriage, able to peacefully take in the beauty of the season, you leaned against Thomas’ strong body. He sighed, his shoulders heaving. In fact, he had been rather quiet for days now.

“Thomas, are you alright?” Looking up at him with a concerned expression on your face, you allowed him to cup your cheek in response.

“Oh, yes. The cold seasons always remind me of home, that is all.“ He confessed, giving you a small smile. A sad smile.

“This is your home now,” you reassured him. “You are beyond welcome here. A new beginning, remember?”

He hummed in response. “A new beginning…”

By the time you arrived at the modest house your brother and you were sharing and you finished cooking dinner for you two, Thomas was still silent. Eerily silent, almost. And it made you worry for him.

Moment after moment passed with only the cutting, chewing and swallowing of food being audible in the cosy kitchen.

“I want to go back to England.” He suddenly stated. You almost dropped your fork.

“You… what? Really?”

“Yes. It is just like you said,” He went on, growing more enthusiastic with a start, “A new beginning. I could start over, restore the house… it does not have to wither away.”

“But… Thomas, I thought you were glad you left this place… that you have so many terrible memories attached to Allerdale Hall. Are you sure you want to be there again?”

Your appetite was all but lost now. Discouraged, you put your fork down and looked him straight in the eye—his beautiful, innocent blue eyes.

“I am. It took me weeks to figure out just why I do not feel complete in this place. I am missing something. I am missing my roots.”

He reached across the table to hold your hand when your eyes filled with tears. “So… you will leave me?”

Thomas shook his head. “No! No, I do not want to leave you. In fact… I meant to ask if you would like to come with me. I do not ask you to leave your home forever. But if I spend my summers here with you, working for your brother and return to England for the winters…”

“Thomas…”

“Please, my love. I want you to be with me. The house is all I have left in my possession and I cannot live at your and your brother’s expenses forever. If I could I would long have purchased us a house here so we can get married and raise our children in our very own home but my savings will not allow it. Instead… if I used them to restore Allerdale Hall…”

Your lips parted. He wanted to marry you. He meant to buy a house where you could raise your children. And he truly seemed to miss his home. Biting your lower lip, you considered his proposal for a moment.

All the work that would come with restoring an entire mansion did not put you off as much as the fact that Allerdale Hall was miles away from your own birthplace. Only if you were with Thomas… did it truly matter where you were? If it meant so much to him… as for you, as long as you could stay with him, it did not matter much to you where you were. It was the change that was scary.

“If this is what you really want…” You finally responded. “…then I will come with you.”

“You will?” His face lit up like a Christmas tree and you nodded.

“I will.” There was no denying your promise, in this very moment, was as significant as a wedding vow.

“Thomas… this house is huge. It’s just the two of us. How will we use all of this space?” Tilting your head back, you took in the gigantic construction towering into the sky.

“We’ll have to have lots of children.” He replied, gently kissing your cheek and hugging you from behind.

There was a gaping hole in the ceiling, letting the cold autumn air come inside, trapping it. It was freezing. Thomas had not exaggerated. The house was in dire need of renovation but together, so you were certain, you would transform this place into an exciting and a cosy living place. A place in which your children could grow up in and, once in adulthood, remember fondly what it had been like.

You worked hard. Your brother knew some good and honest roofers who offered a fair price for the repair of the ceiling, after that Thomas was able to afford two floorers with whom he began figuring out a way to keep the house from sinking into the red clay he had told you about underneath.

Everything had remained just like he had left it, even his clay machine. Only the bodies… the bodies must have been removed by wild animals or a decent human being who found and buried them. Thomas himself could not bring himself to bury both his most recent wife and sister himself—and after everything that happened, the remaining villagers were rather out of sorts with the last survivor of the Sharpe family.

The next couple of weeks you spent cleaning and tidying (and sneezing) and building and sweeping and slowly but surely, Allerdale Hall was turning into a wonderful home. Not once since your arrival had you felt the presence of a tormented ghost—not once had either of you been haunted. It was like, ever since Lucille’s death, the many murdered women in this house had finally been able to move on.

His favourite part of the house was still the attic which had remained untouched for the most part. You had merely replaced the sofa and the desks, added some lovely curtains and a beautiful lustre for his late-night crafting.

You were almost done now. Nearly everything was clean and tidy, new furniture adding an elegant touch to the old house. The only thing still missing was the outer front and the lowest level. Thomas had told you he no longer wanted anything to do with red clay mining, for it reminded him too much of his past with Lucille and the horrible deeds he had been forced to be a part of. Instead, he wanted to keep helping your brother develop new machines for his mines.

“I have an idea.” You said, loosening your tight ponytail after another cleaning orgy in the house. It was only time for lunch and you could not wait to retreat to your new bedroom already. It was Thomas’ old room, re-furnished and cosier than you could have ever imagined. Thomas had spent a fortune on the new king-size bed with the softest mattress you had ever had the pleasure to sleep on.

“You have had many wonderful ideas over the last few weeks, my love.” Thomas said with a smile. “What have you thought of now?”

“We should host a party tomorrow night.”

His lips parted in surprise. “A party? For whom?”

“No one in particular. Us. Our new home. Besides, Halloween is right around the corner. We should ask everyone to dress up and have some fun after all the hard work.” Now there was a chance that the villagers would downright refuse to set foot into this building ever again but you were rather sure that most of them were curious as to what had become of Allerdale Hall as well. Thomas would be able to prove to them he was a good and decent man—and that he had finally found happiness.

“I agree. I do believe we deserve some time off.”

You were busy the next morning, sending out invitations and then buying all the supplies you would need for your Halloween party. Thomas had outdone himself with his outfit—he prepared an all-black suit and black polished shoes along with a cylinder and a dark red bowtie, the latter which fit the dress he had insisted on buying you for tonight perfectly.

Now that the first guests began to arrive in their carriages, all wearing fashionable masks as it was Halloween, admiring what had become of the house so far, Thomas’ nervousness infected you. You had decorated where you could, collecting sycamore leafs and carving pumpkins which were now grinning eerily with candles inside of them. You soon realised, however, that your worries were unnecessary. Thomas conversed like the true Gentleman he was, passionately recalling how much fun it had been to restore the house and that he would have never been able to do any of that without your help. That was when all the attention drifted to you.

Thomas had just disappeared upstairs with an old friend who had been happy enough about his return to show him his renovated workshop when an older man, perhaps in his late fifties, approached you with dismay coating his lips. The rest of his face was unreadable given that he too was wearing a mask.

“So I understand it that you will at some point be marrying the baronet then, my lady?”

“Yes, Sir.” You responded with a polite and content smile. The man shook his head.

“Well, good luck. His last few wives all passed away under rather strange circumstances.”

Tensing up a little, you lifted your chin.

“So I’ve heard and that is very unfortunate. Sir Thomas has my deepest sympathy. And I thank you for your concern but I don’t easily perish.” In fact, the very first thing Thomas and you had done was tossing out the poisoned tea Lucille had been using on his former wives. It was still unsettling sometimes to know he had been involved in murders—but you also knew that Thomas was a good man. He had already lost Edith. He would not lose you.

“You sure don’t, my lady. However, the last remaining woman in Sir Sharpe’s life was his sister Lucille and even her body was never found. I am only trying to help. I run a hotel a few miles west of this atrocious place. I can provide shelter for you, my lady, and hide you from him.”

Shit. You clutched your dress tightly so your hands would not shake as much. “Thank you but that will not be necessary. I love my soon-husband-to-be dearly and if you keep insulting him or his intentions, I will have to ask you to leave.”

“Is there a problem?” Relieved, you let out a breath when you felt Thomas’ arm around your waist and turned around to notice his stern gaze. It was not often you experienced him this cold. The older man blinked, fists clenching a few times.

“No. No problem at all, Sir Sharpe.”

“Good.” With that, he reached for your arm, gently pulling you into the living room. A pianist—another good friend of your brother’s—was filling the hall with warm musical sounds as a couple of guests were dancing. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. He was just being… invasive… about your past.”

“I suspected this might happen tonight.”

“Yes…”

You joined the dancers with a sly smile, letting Thomas take the lead and following his elegant movements as you melted into the harmonious music, both your feet gliding across the floor. And when the piece ended and you came to rest in graceful position in his arms… he suddenly went down on one knee and cupped one of your hands with his as you looked up at you like the most blessed man on the planet. Your heart skipped a beat when he spoke your name. All of a sudden, the room went so still one could have heard a needle drop.

“Will you do me the honour and become my wife? Let me be yours as you will be mine and let us fill this house with nothing but love and harmony.” You never realised there were tears swimming in your eyes—not until they rolled down your cheeks and wetted the fabric of the thin crimson mask you were wearing.

“Yes!” You cried out. “Yes!” Thomas smiled. As the party guests started to clap around you with Ah’s and Oh’s, he scooped you up into his arms, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

“And tomorrow morning…” He whispered into your ear, “I shall buy you the most beautiful engagement ring that England has to offer.”

“You don’t have to buy me an expensive ring, Thomas. Actually…” Your face lit up. “Now that your workshop is done, would you craft one for me?”

His laugh tore through your heart like a tornado. You were right, of course—a hand-crafted engagement ring would be more personal and precious than anything a jeweller could make.

“Did I tell you that I love you?”

“Many, many times. And I love you too. More than anything.”

Your audience cheered even louder when you kissed once more, hugging so tightly not even a thin piece of parchment would have had any space between you.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

#thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe imagine #thomas sharpe fluff #thomas sharpe x you #thomas sharpe x reader #sir thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe imagine #sir thomas sharpe fluff #sir thomas sharpe x you #sir thomas sharpe x reader #crimson peak #crimson peak imagine #tom hiddleston

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notnctu · 4 years

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now playing: can’t help falling in love - elvis presley

lee jeno x fem!reader genre - fluff details - established relationship word count - 1,582 synopsis - where you and jeno attend your best friends’ wedding.

a/n - this is for @kpopscape‘s jukebox friday <3 inspo from the wedding scene in the movie crazy rich asians! also i hope this isn’t confusing LOL the first part is a back and forth between jeno/(y/n) pov, like it switches between the conversations but ultimately they’re in separate rooms -author doie ❀

Lee Jeno stands in a pampered black and white suit, with a classic black tie situated up to his neck. Hair is slicked with a thick gel that he can’t wait to wash out, but gives his forehead a special feature for this very special day. He’s nervous, not entirely sure why, he’s not the one getting married.

The outdoor wedding scene has always been one of your favorites. A rooftop that looks over the vast ocean, the thin horizon that separates water from sky. The decorative floral altar frames the center perfectly. You’re incredibly jittery, not entirely sure why, you’re not the one getting married.

Your best friends panic respectively in their own rooms. It’s mad chaos when you re-enter the cramped room. The mom of the groom is leaving no space for breaths, beating down the neck of your best friend. As your duty of maid of honor, you’re rushing to her rescue.

“I think it’s time to start heading to your seats now.” You usher every relative that isn’t suppose to be in the area. Excited chatter erupt from each of them, overly joyous that the occasion is about to start.

Now, you have a best friend to reassure as she sits in her glorious chiffon gown and a heavy frown on her painted lips. “What can I do to help the bride?” An unfamiliar peppiness embodies you, hoping to lighten her mood.

Smoothing your own dress under you, you sit down in front of her and hold her hands in your own. Her glittery eye makeup catches the light from the marveling late afternoon sun and the strands of her hair are pinned by pearl clips out of the frame of her delicate face.

“Is this what cold feet feels like?” She asks carefully. And when she looks up, her glossy eyes are much of a shock as the question itself.

In the groom’s room, every person is scrambling for their dress shoes. Jeno sits in the corner of the room, quietly observing the frantic lack of responsibility on display while also fulfilling his role as best man by consoling the sullen groom on his big day.

“What does it feel like?” Jeno genuinely inquires and he waits for the answer from his best friend.

Jeno notices his slumped forward shoulders, as if all the confidence in his best friend is drained out. Nonetheless, this is the best he’s ever seen him clean up. A smooth shave, without a cut in sight and accessories that actually complement his suit. Throughout all the craziness, this is a show stopping man before him. Who knew suits can make such a difference?

“Cold feet... it feels confusing.” His best friend fiddles his thumbs as if guilt preoccupied his conscience for feeling this way on his wedding day. “I love her, but what is that suppose to feel like? Do you know what love feels like, Jeno?”

Jeno blinks and without a doubt answers, “I do.” and his automatic thought is you. He will never stop falling in love with you.

Your best friend peers out the window and the empty room provides a serene silence on this beautiful day. The serious question now fills the air instead.

You gulp, the pure image of Jeno’s smile enters your mind. Love is Jeno, he holds your hand as if he’s always afraid that you’d let go. “I do.” And a gentle smile finally rests on your best friend’s face. You simply can’t help falling in love with Jeno and she knows.

“It’s like how a river flows into the sea.” Jeno stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. The analogy sounded better in his head, but he can see the gears turn.

“It’s just meant to be.” You add to your best friend’s heavy sigh.

“It’s time.” A knock startles the men in the room and Jeno stands up. He instructs his best friend to take a few deep breaths before heading out. Jeno lightly dusts his shoulders and bids his good friend a warm smile.

“It’s just meant to be.” Jeno whispers and gives him a firm pat, and his friend nods. A smile grows tenfold at Jeno’s last words.

Jeno has always been the person of the friend group who gives love advice before he’s ever felt it. It wasn’t for four years ago when he met you did he actually understand what he told others.

Love is more than emotional. It’s taking your hand in a large crowd so you’re not lost. It’s early evening dinners spent together. It’s active listening to the other person’s troubles. It’s simple, yet too complex to explain. Some things are meant to be.

Finally, you two rejoin with one another and form the orderly line that every pairing walks down the aisle in. Jeno takes your hand, as you offer your world to him. The charming toothy smile that he’ll never grow tired of seeing, your hands intertwine. You both seem anxious, not entirely sure why, you two aren’t the ones getting married.

But you two face the closed doors that are about to open. The soft gentle song begins to play, announcing the start of their beautiful journey.

Jeno gives your hand a small squeeze, “everything okay?” His whisper is almost inaudible.

“Not something I couldn’t fix. You?” You mumble back, the doors open and the groom starts his walk down the aisle.

“I do learn from the best.” From side eye peeks, you see the sly grin on your boyfriend’s charming face. “So yeah, not something I couldn’t fix.”

You both walk down the aisle in unison. The white rolled out sheet that has pink flower petals scattered across disappear under your feet with each step. Mutual friends sit in the crowd and their distant relatives all wear expressions of awe.

The music is drowned out when you two reach the altar, separating to join the different sides of the couple. Something inside you tells you not to look at Jeno standing on the other side, not yet.

Facing forward, each groomsmen and bridesmaid pairing flood in one by one. The final repetition of the song and your best friend is ready for her entrance. Her sheer veil drapes over her face, a large bouquet of pink roses in her hands, each step brings her closer to her future husband.

You’re immersed, completely close to tears just at the moving image of your best friend finding a love so true. Years after years, she’s been wandering the Earth set searching for a perfect partner. You felt a bit foolish to have found Jeno before she had found someone, wondering if you rushed too soon into a relationship.

Jeno has always felt unreal to you. There’s something new and old to love about him every day. You love that he just always knows what to say, remembering a moment in time when you asked, “shall I stay?” and for him to reply, “would it be a sin if you did?” for you, of course not.

You had promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry and everything was smooth sailing, until the vows and you consequently make eye contact with Jeno across the altar.

It’s as if time stopped, you two are in your own world. Jeno’s eyebrows rise up subtly in shock, like a whole waterfall of epiphanies washed over him. He sees you blinking back at him, as beautiful as ever in a formal gown and a small bouquet in your hands.

Jeno hears the vows, “for I can’t help falling in love... with...” and your mouths move in synchronization as you two mouth the last word silently to yourselves, “you.”

Your heart is ready to burst out of your chest and a tear happens to slip down your face. Not only are you incredibly happy for the newly weds, you’re soaring through the sky that Jeno loves you as much as you love him.

Jeno smiles sweetly at the droplet that draws down your cheek and your poor attempt to wipe it away. But he’s staring at you as if you’re all he’s ever wanted in love. Is this what his friend feels as they exchange rings? The realization that this is the only person you’re ever going to love.

He’s made up his mind. He’s going to marry you one day, like it’s set in stone. “I do.” Your friends’ futures are sealed and celebratory cheers break you two out of the trance.

“Congratulations.” You hug your best friend as tightly as you can before she walks down the aisle together with her new husband. Jeno steps forward, interlocking your fingers proudly and placing a small kiss on the back of your hand.

“I can’t wait to experience that all over again.” There’s a happiness in his step and the way his smile beams. “Only, it will be us exchanging vows at the altar.”

Perhaps Jeno is intoxicated from the joyous atmosphere of the wedding, but you don’t mind. You love him all the more to want to share something as special as today, “you aren’t ready for what I would say to you.”

Jeno chuckles, pinching your cheek lovingly. “In that case, you better make me cry, you big soft baby.”

You pretend that you’re offended, pouting a little before bursting into giggles with your boyfriend. There’s a million things you’d want to say to Jeno, but the one thing you’ll never forget to mention would be, “I love you, Lee Jeno.”

#kpopscape #nct-writers #neothestars #nct scenarios #jeno scenarios #nct fluff #nct imagines #lee jeno #nct #nct dream #nct dream scenarios #jeno #lee jeno scenarios

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detroitbydark · 4 years

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Previous part (as well as fan art and fic?!) can be found here

Chp 12

Character: Commander Fox x Mouse (reader), Padme Amidala, Bail Organa

Warnings: idiots in love, mild pining

Summary: The one where Fox knows what to expect but is still incensed when it happens. Bail Organa is a good bro to everyone. Padme Amidala is rocking motherhood and is not so subtle in her matchmaking attempt.

A/N: I apologized in advance but your gonna see that I'm working to make things better I promise! As always thanks to my lovelies @skdubbs @crimson-dxwn and @thelastbattlecry for being my sounding boards/betas/listening ears.

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Naboo was beautiful. Not in the way that a rare gem or a fancy painting was, where one appreciated their grandeur because that was expected. Where they were looked at clinically and picked apart for sport.

No, Naboo was beautiful in a way that made Mouse's heart clench. The overwhelming majesty of the lakes and waterfalls bringing a tear to her eyes the first time she’d laid eyes on them. She’d never seen so much water, so much green. She could scarcely believe she wasn’t experiencing a fever dream in the claustrophobic bacta tank back on Coruscant. Even now, after two months, the view from the Naberrie’s Lake home (more like a palace than any home Mouse has ever imagined) gave her pause.

It was, in short, heaven.

The summer months had left the temperature near to perfect and the waters had receded from the great pastoral valleys, leaving them open for exploration, picnics and gathering wildflowers.

Mouse found herself sleeping most nights with the door to the small balcony off her room open, the not so far-off sound of running water lulling her to sleep. The nightmares had not gone, a twisted version of a reality she’d lived, but she rarely woke up screaming anymore. Instead she came to with a racing heart and thin sheen of sweat decorating her skin. She was haunted by the voice of Palpatine, the flash of light as Fox fires on her, the image of him being lifted and strangled by the force wielding Anakin Skywalker. It still happens like clockwork, the dreams. She just no longer has it in her to scream.

The senator had noticed the deep circles under her eyes quickly. She was a good woman, Padmé, and while Mouse was unsure whether she’d call her a friend just yet she did know she enjoyed speaking with her. Upto the birth of the babies, they’d taken daily walks, short sojourns along the estate’s lands. It was often the time Padmé had her husband speaking with his healer. Mouse was eternally grateful, as she wasn’t comfortable in the Jedi’s presence. To have him walking with them through the millaflower fields would have soured the experience. She liked to think Padmé realized such things without her saying it. When she did speak of her husband, there was a carefulness to her words, as if she had to think each one out to paint him in his best light. Mouse hasn’t spoken about Fox to anyone, and she wonders if she did would she feel the need to tread carefully? She doesn’t think she would.

Mouse's relationship with Padmé changes after the birth of the babies a short two months after their arrival.

Luke and Leia join the galaxy on a stiflingly hot night during high summer. Heat lightning flashes and grumbles in the distance as the doctor works to bring the children safely into the world. They hadn’t planned for two. Anakin paced the room, like an agitated Nexu, checking in with his wife after each pass. Staff and visitors were at a minimum, so Mouse volunteered to help as she could. It was still a state of the art set-up, one fit for a former queen, senator, and much loved daughter of Naboo. There was little to be done but sit at the Senator’s side and blot her head with a cool cloth while she worked, grunting and pushing through the labor like tackling an obstacle in her way on the senate floor.

Leia comes first, a squalling indignant thing already full of life and the need to tell everyone about it. The nurse attending offers her to Anakin while Padmé continues to labor. Mouse sees the fear in his eyes as he shakes his head, his eyes already trailing back to his wife. Mouse holds the bundle of blankets and moves out of the way, gesturing for the young Jedi to take her place near his wife.

“She needs you.” She says softly, fighting back the urge to tremble in his presence.

“Ani?” Padmé’s voice rings out, for the first time uncertain. That’s all Skywalker needs to go to her side.

Mouse watches as he takes her hand in his, kisses her fingers, tells her she’s doing great, that she’ll be fine. It feels voyeuristic watching them so she focuses on the little girl in her arms, who stares up with bright blue eyes. Mouse melts.

Luke is the wildcard, the surprise no one knew to expect. He’d been hiding behind his sister until just days ago when her last scan had shown an extra heartbeat and an extra head. Now he was malpositioned and the doctor has to manually correct it. Padmé makes an awful, wounded noise but pushes nonetheless when she’s finally given the clear to. The boy makes his entrance as a bolt of lightning cuts through the sky and the lights flicker. He’s quiet, and smaller than his minutes-older sister. There’s a tense period where he makes no sound at all, and a collective breath is held until he begins to make a soft plaintive noise before he’s laid against his mother’s chest. Mouse offers the wrapped baby to the nurse and she soon joins her brother. Mouse has to turn away as Anakin leans in and kisses his wife.

When she sleeps that night there is no nightmare. She dreams of her own swollen belly, a baby kicking away while Fox’s strong arms wrap around her middle and hold her protectively. She can feel his full lips as they press against her temple. She can feel the rumble of his voice.

The beginning of our family, cyar’ika.

She wakes with a choked sob and doesn’t sleep the rest of the night.

—-

“Run it by me again, Chancellor.”

It felt like they’d been in the black forever. The jump to the small outer rim was no milk run. Fox glances out the window again as they break atmo and the black of space turns to the bright blue of Naboo’s sky. He was ready to be off the ship. He’d never tell his brothers, would rather die than admit it, but he hated hyperspace travel. It wasn’t just the jump in or the fall out of it either. It was the whole damn thing. It was unnatural. He was meant to have his feet on terra and that was all there was to it.

The itinerary had them making a quick stop in Theed to take on supplies, then another bit of travel - this time in the blue instead of the black - to reach their destination, the Lake District.

“Commander, relax. This is a pleasure cruise,” Bail enthuses smoothly, “nothing to worry about.”

“Then why me and not one of the other boys? Thire would have been fine for this.”

Bail rolls his eyes. “Thire is a stick in the mud and I much prefer your company and conversation.” Bail explains “I’m going to spend a couple days doting on my new godchildren and discussing a few matters with their lovely Senator mother, some of which you may have strong opinions about that deserve being heard.”

The last bit grabs Fox’s attention. “I don’t remember that being mentioned.”

“Oh I didn’t mention that some of your brothers will be meeting us for an impromptu - and off the books - meeting on clone personhood?”

Fox purses his lips undercover of his bucket. “No you hadn’t sir.”

Fox had learned quickly that Bail Organa’s style of governance was worlds different from the previous chancellors. The secrets Sidious kept had been dangerous to the republic, his vode and the Jedi in particular while Bail’s all seemed fairly benign and were really only used to surprise and throw Fox from a dour mood.

“Well it seems I must have forgotten to put it on the official itinerary for our visit.” The older man’s eyes sparkle with mischief.

“It seems you did, sir. I suppose it’s already been planned. It would be a shame to lose out on such an important meeting.”

Personhood. That was one of those dreams all clones shared but few ever mentioned. It seemed silly that it should even be an issue to begin with. If none survived the war it was a useless conversation to have, wasn't it? Now, with Sidious no longer pulling his dark strings, the Seppies were beginning to fall apart. They’d already fallen on Felucia and Utapau. General Grievous was dead and Count Dooku had gone to ground, but he couldn’t stay hidden forever. Maybe the idea of life after war wasn’t such a dream. It was tangibly within reach.

“Who’s joining us for this little shindig?”

Bail smirks again, “I’ve left the guest list to the Marshall Commander’s discretion.”

Fox can’t hide the excitement in his voice, “Cody?” It has been ages since he’d seen his ori’vod. Before the second battle of Geonosis and well before Mouse had -

Mouse.

Because that was a wound that refused to heal. Kriff - it wouldn’t even scab over! It merely festered and hurt like nothing else Fox had ever felt. Whoever had said out of sight, out of mind needed to keep their head on a swivel because Fox was pretty sure if he ever saw them he’d break their jaw.

Mouse was still a guest of the Senator’s. He wasn’t proud to say he’d been keeping tabs, but it was one of the only things that kept his anxiety at bay when it came to her. Unlike with Fives, the bottle didn’t seem to do it. The pair of times he’d taken to finding out what was in the bottom of a bottle of Corellian whiskey he’d found nothing but nightmares and guilt.

Bail gives him a smile as the ship comes in for a landing, the capital of Theed rising up around them, always warm and inviting.

Fox vows to try not to think of seeing Mouse. He breaks it in five minutes.

——

To say Padmé Amidala’s wardrobe was expansive was an understatement. Like saying Coruscant was home to a lot of people.

What had once been an entire guest suite had been turned into a makeshift dressing room and closet for the former queen. Padmé was unapologetic in regards to the sheer amount of clothing she possessed, explaining that it had been expected she never wear the same outfit twice and that, honestly, she just really liked clothes.

It made her more human in Mouse’s eyes, less like the self-possessed politician and more like the young woman she was underneath all the finery.

Mouse supports little Leia’s head as she dozes in the sling across her chest while Padmé does the same, bouncing slightly from side to side on her toes to calm a fussy Luke.

“How about this one?” Padmé questions, pointing to an ornate, layered gown. It reminds Mouse of a confection, fluffy and frosted with layers upon layers of petal pink fabric.

“A bit much for a dinner party? You think?”

Mouse had never had much in the way of fine things, had never really needed them, but when Padmé mentioned that the new Chancellor would be coming and she would really like her to come to the dinner she’d had Mouse help plan, well she really couldn’t say no. Now it was important to find something to wear. It seemed since Padmé was not quite ready to leave the concealing gowns of her early pregnancy behind, Mouse bore the burden of her need to dress and accessorize.

Padmé hums quietly to Luke as he begins to drift off. “You’re probably right. Maybe something a little smaller, more cocktail appropriate?”

Mouse isn’t entirely sure what that entails but she nods in agreement. She’s discovered that even a month and a half postpartum Padmé was still a force to be reckoned with when she got on something. Motherhood hadn’t softened her drive - if anything, it had brought it to new heights as she made plans and strived to make the galaxy a place where her children could grow and thrive.

They’d been spending more time together, Mouse becoming a makeshift mother’s helper while Padmé balanced new motherhood and keeping up with her senatorial duties. Anakin, Padmé had confided, was slow to take to fatherhood and while he seemed to love the twins, he became frustrated easily. He’d increased his visits with the healer, but Padmé wondered if part of it was the loss of Jedi Order. General Kenobi had visited a handful of times since they’d arrived, but Padmé worried it wasn’t the same.

She didn’t mention Sidious but when she spoke of betrayal and upheaval Mouse knew what she spoke of.

She felt bad thinking it, but Mouse wasn’t unhappy with the children’s father’s absence. His nearness to her still left her uncomfortable and remembering the way his eyes had glowed amber and the hate that had been etched into his features as he’d used the force to-

“Remind me again why this is important?” she asks as the new mother begins pulling out more dresses. Mouse works Leia from the sling and cradles her near while she ambles over to her nearby bassinet. Leia was the simpler of the two babies while Luke seemed to require a bit more coddling from his mother. She wondered in the personality differences between the two. She places a thin blanket over the sleeping babe before going back to the pile of dresses that had been laid out.

She holds a deep emerald green dress in front of her and Padme's brows knit together assessingly. “Next,” she chirps as Mouse grabs a blue dress that shimmers in the light flooding through the room's large windows. “Maybe pile. Definitely. Tonight is important because I said it’s important,” Padmé says digging back in the closet. “Obi and Cody arrived earlier this morning.” She glances one more time before sitting on a nearby settee. Luke is awake and beginning to fuss and Padmé quickly works open the front of her dress to allow the hungry infant to nurse. “Have you met General Secura?”

Mouse shakes her head ‘no.’ She’d heard of the twi’lek though and wonders if she might ask her some questions she had. She’d begun sponsoring little Me’kar and wondered what it would take to keep a child of another species in touch with her own heritage if she were to be adopted by a human. Not that she’d been thinking about adoption-

“You’ll like her. Her Commander Bly will be with her. They’re very… close.”

Mouse can read between the lines. Close. Close like she and Fox had been maybe? More so? She’d heard battle forged bonds that were unbreakable, maybe it also could form a love connection that could withstand the burdens of both war and the Jedi’s vows.

She and Fox hadn’t had anything so deep.

She tries the lie on herself again. It still doesn’t sit true. Maybe another hundred times and she’d start believing it.

“The Chancellor will be here in a few hours-“ As Padmé continues to speak, Mouse digs through the pile. A red dress, slick and satin smooth catches her eyes. The skirt feels cool under her fingers. Padmé stops mid sentence as Mouse works it from the pile. The neck is scooped shallow from shoulder to shoulder across where her collar bone would be and a thin golden chain connects the apex of the straps and offers to drape and dip low between her shoulder blades. It would do little to hide the scars on her left arm and shoulder, but Mouse wasn’t self conscious of them the way most would think. Though she could never speak of their true nature she didn't once regret them.

“- seven hells... I forgot about that one. It’s perfect,” Padmé enthuses, again reminding Mouse of truly how close in age they actually were. “Please, pick that one?” Luke grumbles as his mother’s bouncing interrupts his meal. “Hush sweetling,” she soothes.

“It is very pretty.” Mouse hums quietly as she holds the dress in front of her and turns in front of the mirror.

“Some earrings, a pendant maybe… oh a tiara!”

“Earrings will be fine I think.” Mouse can feel her cheeks heating up. Padmé chuckles softly. “What’s so funny?”

“I just realized that color matches the Coruscant Guard colors perfectly. I wonder what Commander Fox will think of it?”

Mouse feels the color drain from her face. Her voice comes out as an ungainly wheeze, “Fox?”

“Yeah, have you met?” Padmé is giving her a wondering look. “He’s not as bad as people make him out to be.”

“Oh- uh- we’ve met.”

“Really?”

There’s a twinkle in the senator’s eye, something that clues Mouse into the fact that the woman in front of her just maybe wasn’t as clueless to the state of her relationship with the Guard Commander as she let on.

“It’ll be nice to catch up or something won’t it?”

Mouse nods. Or something.

——

Fox feels a little cheated. All the times he’d accompanied Senator Amidala to her home world not once had she brought him to the Lake District. The Chancellor looks at home, unswayed by the beauty as he marches through the open halls with confidence. Maybe it was because he was Alderaanian, Fox thinks. He’s never seen the Chancellor’s home but he’d heard its beauty was unrivaled. After taking a glance out the tall transparisteel window looking out directly at one of a half dozen waterfalls he’s sure that it can’t be true.

“Sir? Should we wait for an escort?” Fox asks as Bail takes a sharp turn down another hall.

“No worries, Commander. If I know Padmé she’ll have set up shop in her office. The day is still young and she’ll be hard at work.”

“Sir, she’s just had a baby- two babies. Surely she’ll be taking it easy.”

Bail barks out a very unchancellor like laugh before he levels his eyes at Fox. “If she’s not in her office, I’ll eat my boots for dinner.”

“Laces and all?” Fox can’t help the way the corner of his mouth draws up, though he tries to smother it. Bail raps the back of his knuckles twice across the armor of Fox’s chest before pointing one finger at his face, his own smile broad and for the world to see.

“See, I knew that stick wasn’t as far up your ass as everyone says.”

“Don’t go telling everyone. I’ve got a image to maintain.”

Bail’s bark of laughter echoes down the hall. “And this is why you’re here and not Thire.”

It was new and fascinating to see the Chancellor in this different light, more relaxed than he ever was on Coruscant with its many eyes and wagging tongues. Not for the first time since he’s begun working closely with the Alderaanian, Fox thinks that he truly does enjoy his company.

Fox adjusts his bucket under his arm, hesitates for a moment as to whether he should replace it or continue to carry it. He’s not sure of the proper protocol in this situation. It was one he’d never been prepped for back on Kamino. What was one to do when addressing a senator on maternity leave in her palatial lake house?

He decides to leave it off and immediately wishes he’d put it on as they push through large wooden doors into the senators office. Like everything else, it’s beauty is unimagined. Sumptuous wooden bookcases filled with flimsy tomes fill the shelves, natural light spills in from windows showing off a pristine late afternoon lake with the sun just beginning to set behind the waterfalls surrounding it.

All of that fails to capture his attention because there’s his Mouse swaying gently from side to side smiling down at a cooing baby. Her hair pulled back into a messy bun with tiny tendrils escaping, framing her face in fly-aways.

Karking Naboo could get sucked up by a black hole for all he cares. Mouse is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen bathed in the warm glow of late afternoon sun spilling across the room.

She looks so relaxed, so natural cooing to the infant in her arms - until she looks up and catches him staring.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting but it wasn’t the look of surprise, her eyes thrown wide before cool indifference washes over her.

This wasn’t a holoromance. She wasn’t going to run into his arms and he wasn’t going to dip her low, kiss her passionately, and promise undying love. Not that he hadn’t thought it in that perfect split second moment of her inattention.

She holds the baby close, protectively as Bail moves to embrace Senator Amidala, herself holding an infant.

“Bail!” The young senator’s smile could light the senate halls for a standard rotation. “It’s so good to see you. I was just finishing up.” Fox pulls his eyes away from Mouse long enough to assess the amount of flimsy and datapads stacked across the senators desk. She was nowhere near done.

“And Commander Fox!”

He startles slightly as the petite force of nature insinuates herself in front of him.

“I’m so glad you could make it. Have you seen Cody yet? I know he was pleased when he heard you’d come.”

Fox shakes his head, his eyes drawing magnetically back to Mouse. He used to be able to read her like one of the flimsy books on the senators shelves but now? Now he doesn’t know what he’s seeing, a whole new language he has no experience translating .

“Commander” she offers after a moment, her voice tight but bright in a forced kind of way, “it’s good to see you. You look well.”

Fox swallows hard. “As do you. I hope your stay has been well?”

The infant in her arms turns and roots against the top of the plain dress she’s wearing and Mouse turns her attention away from him, mumbling some pleasantry dismissively. It feels like a slap in the face.

“I’ve got nothing for you sweet girl.” She hums to the baby who is beginning to make plaintive, angry noises, “Padmé I believe miss Leia is hungry again.”

The senator sighs quietly before moving to swap children. She looks at the two men in her presence. “You’ll have to excuse my children,” she jokes, “they don’t know the meaning of office hours yet.”

Bail gives a hearty laugh. “I’m shocked, with you as their mother.”

“They must get it from their Dad,” she offers cheekily, “Boundaries are not his strong point.” Fox watches as Mouse heads for the door with the other infant.

“I think I’ll go deposit this one in bed. Maybe he’ll get some sleep without his sister pestering him.”

Padmé nods as Mouse leaves and Fox fights the urge to follow after her. Like a child himself, he wants her attention. He runs a hand through his hair roughly as he watches the empty door frame willing her to come back. They could try again, start from scratch. He would put himself on his knees and beg for her forgiveness.

Something angry flares in his chest.

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard didn’t beg. No, Commander Fox was the man everyone looked to for leadership. He would not beg. He’d stand in front of her and dress her down like one of his petulant kits.

She didn’t get to just walk away from him, give him the cold shoulder. Did she not realize he sacrificed a bit of his soul just to send her here? That the wound it left became a little more infected each day?

No, she probably didn’t. She’d obviously moved on and he was the one that was left idling in the past.

——-

“Bail already knows his way around the estate, obviously.” Padmé laughs. The chancellor had excused himself a short while before and blatantly refused Fox when he’d attempted to follow after.

“I’m an old man,” he’d said though he was nowhere near the age Fox would seem old , “and I need a nap and a holo with my wife, neither of which I need your supervision for.”

That left Fox in the senator’s good company as she led him through various halls to the guest wing. Wonder that! A whole wing set aside for people who didn’t even live there. For a clone who’d spent the better part of his life bunking with dozens of brothers, the thought was beyond what he could comprehend.

Padmé readjusts the baby in her arms not for the first time as they talk.

“I could take the little biter for a few minutes if you’d like.” He offers not thinking she’ll take him up on the offer. Who would let a clone handle a baby that was damn near galactic royalty?

Apparently, Padmé Amidala.

“Oh that would be amazing!” She stops and turns toward him and before Fox really has a clear idea of what’s going on, he’s got an arm full of ik’aad.

Fox freezes for a moment and stares down at the little face staring back at him. Her eyes have a depth, he thinks, far beyond her few months. When he looks back to her mother, the senator is stretching her arms with a contented smile. Leia squirms in his grip.

“Well hello princess” he murmurs softly as he cradles her closer. She offers a gummy yawn in return and Fox is surprised he doesn’t melt into a puddle right there.

Padmé claps quietly. “Oh! You’re a natural!”

Fox gives her a lopsided smile. “She’s a baby, not a thermal detonator.”

When he glances up Fox sees just a flash, a far-off look in the senator's eyes. “You’d be surprised to know not everyone takes to it so easily. Maybe you’re just meant to be a father?”

“Padmé, you know that-“

“Screw the regulations,” she says with a steel to her voice he’s only heard a handful of times, “You’re not a droid. You're not a thing, and if it’s the last thing I do, the Republic will do right by the men we’ve made fight our war.”

Fox raises a brow. “You know, I was going to say it usually requires a partner to have a baby.”

Padmé’s face flushes a pretty shade of pink. “Well at least you know where I stand.”

“With all due respect, I’ve always known where you stood.”

The pair continue down the hall taking a sharp right before Padmé is pointing to a door.

“This one is yours,” she states as Fox begrudgingly passes Leia back to her mother. There was something incredibly soothing about holding the little girl and he misses that feeling the moment she’s gone.

Padmé points at other doors down the hall. “Commander Bly, General Secura, General Kenobi, Marshall Commander Cody…” she rattles off, pointing to a seperate room for each. She does a lousy job of biting back a smile as she points to the last door, conveniently across from his own. “Our little Mouse.”

Fox can’t help but shake his head. “I feel like I’m being set up.”

“You are,” Padmé agrees sagely.

“I regret to inform you, after earlier, I believe that ship has really and truly sailed, hit hyperspace even.”

Padmé gives him a skeptical look before peeking down at her daughter. “Men are the silliest creatures,” she educates the infant before glancing back up at Fox, “but not all of them are lost causes.”

Fox chuffs softly.

“I was once told that the Force controls everything around us,” Padmé says earnestly, “but as I’ve grown I’m not sure that’s true.”

He’ll bite. “Well what mystical force controls our destinies then?”

“Hope, Commander. All life,” she looks down at her daughter, her eyes shining when she looks back up, “is built on hope.”

#fox and mouse #commander fox/reader #commander fox #cc 1010 #tcw #star wars

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harlot-of-oblivion · 4 years

Text

A Lotus In Full Bloom (Part 9)

Vergil finally confronts his feelings for his lovely rose while you untangle the thorns from around your darling devil’s heart.

It’s finally here! Hope ya’ll are ready for some angst, comforting fluff, and all the romance! 🌹😍🌹

Here’s the link to the list of all the flowers featured in this part 🌺😊🌺

If someone had told Vergil over two decades ago that he would not only be a father but also be in his son’s wedding, he would’ve laughed in their face before calling them a fool. But now, here he is checking over his suit for the big day that is only two days away. And he isn’t just part of the wedding party…he’s all set to surprise the happy couple with a violin performance during their first dance with a little help from his lovely rose.

The thought of you summons that warm feeling in his chest as he zips the garment bag up before putting it back in his closet. Both of you have met every single day since the beach party, tirelessly practicing together in your music room until late at night. You still think that your piano skills are woefully inadequate, but he has the utmost confidence in your abilities. He knows that you can perform this unique gift for his son and future daughter-in-law with him.

There’s only enough time for one more practice session before the rehearsal dinner tomorrow, Vergil thought as he finished getting ready in his room. He glances over to the hidden box underneath his bed, reminding himself to pick some fresh flowers for you before heading over to your place. The pit of his stomach drops a little at the thought, knowing deep down that he will no doubt give you the blooms without a verbal confession despite his best efforts to do so this entire week.

Ever since he shared that intimate moment with you among the waves, he has felt this sickening swirl building up inside him; it grows stronger and stronger the more time he spends with you. And every time he intends to finally confess, it crawls up his throat and stifles his words to a mere quiet gasp of frustration. He honestly does not know what’s come over him; what could possibly be stopping a Son of Sparda from admitting his intentions aloud? The very notion of hesitating at all is maddening…and today is his last chance to tell you how he truly feels before both of you get swept up in the final preparations for the wedding.

Vergil looks over at the wall mirror by his bedroom door, giving himself a nod of approval in the reflection before grabbing the Yamato. I won’t hesitate this time, my lovely rose, he vows with a determined huff while exiting his room. It only takes him a few long strides down the hall to turn around the corner by the staircase. And it is there where he comes upon a strange sight: an oafish buffoon that bears a striking resemblance to his little brother is lying across the couch in the shop’s office, groaning loudly while covering his eyes with one arm.

How…curious, he thought with a quirked brow as he descended the stairs. Dante doesn’t even acknowledge the sound of his soft footfalls nor the occasional creaks of the wood on some of the steps. Vergil rolls his eyes at his brother’s overly dramatic display, but he cannot resist asking about his little farce. “And what, pray tell, has you groaning like a stricken cow?” he snidely inquires, pausing by the foot of the stairs as he waits for his brother’s answer.

Dante turns his head and peeks up from behind his arm. “Have you kissed Buttercup yet?”

Vergil’s jaw hardens into a harsh scowl. “What I do while in the company of Y/N is none of your concern.”

“Unbelievable,” Dante mutters under his breath with a shake of his head. “She’s totally in love with you and you’re blowing it!” he exclaims, waving both arms in the air before letting them flop back down on the couch with a frustrated sigh.

Vergil scoffs at his brother’s attempt to pry into his personal life as he walks behind the desk. “I don’t see how our relationship is any of your business.”

Dante grunts as he sits up on the couch. “Just listen to your brother for once, Verg,” he requests sincerely, voice dropping down into a serious tone. “You gotta make your move soon before she gets the wrong idea.”

The familiar sickening swirl starts to coalesce deep within his belly. “The wrong idea about what?” Vergil asks stubbornly, trying his best to ignore the thick lump forming in his throat as he stares down his brother from across the room.

“Do I really need to spell it out for ya?” Dante asks incredulously as he leans back against his seat. “Man, Buttercup’s really got her work cut out for her,” he sighs with a disappointed frown, crossing one ankle atop his knee while stretching his arms out on the back of the couch as he continues talking. “Being strung along by my dumbass brother, who can’t even admit his own feelings and JUST KISS HER ALREADY!”

Vergil’s brow twitches irritably at his brother’s rowdy voice as it bellows through the shop. He can feel a surly retort forming on the tip of his tongue but just before he can spit it out, the subtle movement of something shifting out of place catches his eye. His head tilts inquisitively as he leans over and peers down behind the radiator, spotting a very gaudy piece of poster board that depicts what looks to be some sort of seaside scenery. But what really grabs his attention is the huge bold letters that make up the header of this poster:

OPERATION: GET DUMBASS BROTHER AND BUTTERCUP TOGETHER

“Dante…” he growls, feeling every last ounce of his composure turning to dust as he reaches for the poster. He pulls it out from its poor hiding place, silently seething as he reads the intricate instructions detailing some of the events that played out during the beach party. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demands, turning the poster around and pointing at the childish drawing of two stick figures holding hands with a deathly glower.

His brother has the audacity to shrug his shoulders defensively. “Whaaaaat? You needed a little push in the right direction and I just-”

“You insufferable wretch!”

Dante grunts as a couple of summoned swords pierce his chest, effectively cutting him off as the offending poster gets shredded by the blue ripple of a small Judgement Cut. “I know you’ve always loved meddling with my private affairs, but you better tread carefully, little brother…” Vergil stalks over to the couch and looms over his brother as he finishes his venomous warning. “I’m in no mood for your foolishness!”

“Maybe if you weren’t so helpless when it comes to romance, you wouldn’t need my help putting your tulips together!” Dante remarks bluntly through gritted teeth, clutching his chest as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Look, I know that you somehow managed to nail at least one other lady back in the day, but that doesn’t mean-”

Vergil’s entire body becomes rigid as he draws back from the couch, averting his fierce gaze towards a messy corner of the shop. Dante stops short at the sudden yet subtle shift in his overall demeanor. The air becomes still and eerily quiet since the shop is absent of the jukebox’s abhorrent music for once…until one of them breaks the silence.

“Wait a minute,” Dante murmurs, resting both hands on his knees while looking up at him suspiciously. “Are you afraid of telling her?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Vergil scoffs, barely giving his brother a passing glance as the sickening swirl starts churning in the pit of his stomach.

“Holy shit,” Dante whispers, eyes widening in shock as he keeps goading him into talking more. “You really are afraid, aren’t ya?”

Vergil glares down at his little brother. “I’m no such thing!” he snarls, lips twisting into a bitter grimace while his fists ball up impatiently, one clenching around the Yamato tightly while the other pulls his leather glove taut over his knuckles.

Dante snorts with a nod of his head. “Really? Then why haven’t you swept her off her feet yet, huh?” he inquires with a knowing smirk that only grows wider at the stoic silence that answers his question. “Something’s holding you back…I can tell,” he sighs wearily, crossing his arms and leaning back against the couch again. “So, what’s scaring you off from a total babe like Buttercup?” he wonders aloud, scratching his scruffy chin while staring up at the grody ceiling in thought.

“I will eviscerate you on the spot if you don’t cease this infuriating conversation immediately!” Vergil commands with a vicious growl, lifting the Yamato to show his thumb at the ready below the hilt.

“If it’s really about making the first move, then you can’t say I didn’t try to help!” Dante points out with a wave of his hand, completely ignoring his final warning as he persists with his nosy musings. “C’mon, Verg…talk to me. Are ya afraid of commitment? Or maybe you’re scared she’ll reject-”

Vergil feels the last shred of his self-control snap as he pops the handle up with a loud metallic click. Then, he teleports in front of his brother before sinking the Yamato deep within his gut. Dante grunts from the inflicted pain as he struggles to move, but the sword’s razor-sharp edge has him pinned to the back of the couch. “I’ve had enough of your mindless chatter!” he fumes, giving his blade a grinding twist before withdrawing it with a furious growl.

Dante hisses and doubles over on the couch, clutching his belly while groaning in agony. Vergil pays his brother no mind as he flicks the Yamato clean before sheathing the blade, not caring about making an even bigger mess of the shop as he turns away from his brother. “I’m going for a walk,” he barks while marching over towards the entryway, “and if you know what’s good for you…” He pauses with his hand on the door handle.

“You will not follow me.”

And with those final cautionary words, he jerks the door open and stomps out of the shop in an awfully foul mood. He quickly steps down the stairs before unsheathing the Yamato once more. The faint rumble of thunder booms across the sky as he opens a portal to anywhere but here. His keen ears hear the shop door swing open just as he walks through the portal and some gruff cursing as it seals shut behind him.

Vergil finds himself standing in some sparse woodlands. He has no idea where he is exactly, and he does not care to find out. The only thing occupying his thoughts now is the pure unbridled rage running through his body like a wildfire in the dead of a blistering cold night. And with no one around to witness the crack in his carefully constructed façade of cool composure…the devil inside him roars and claws beneath his skin as this white hot anger fully consumes him, triggering the transformation of his other demonic form with a loud snarl.

The leaves of the surrounding trees tremble at the force of his demonic power as it rushes through the woods. His scorching hot breath comes out in aggravated puffs as he waits for the anger to subside, but his brother’s false assumptions keep ringing through his mind…making his blood boil even hotter as he takes to the air. How dare he make such foolish claims…fear doesn’t suit a Son of Sparda! he seethes while zooming over the scattered canopy of trees.

Then why haven’t you swept her off her feet yet, huh?

Dante’s astute observation strikes at the heart of the matter just as a streak of lightning flashes through the sky. The sickening swirl is back and stronger than ever as it coils into a nauseous knot deep within his gut, forcing him to halt his furious flight as thunder crashes down all around him with a loud crack. He hovers amid the charged air, hoping that the rumbling roll of the oncoming storm would drown out the maddening thoughts of his mind…but the persistent voice of his brother keeps chipping away at his resolve.

Holy shit…You really are afraid, aren’t ya?

Something’s holding you back…I can tell.

Are ya afraid of commitment? Or maybe you’re scared she’ll reject-

Vergil lets out a tormented roar, no longer able to stand the torrent of thoughts whirling in his head. The distorted tone of his suffering melds with the deafening boom of thunder as the sky finally breaks open. He stares up at the dark clouds and as the heavy drops of summer rain douse his armored face, he cannot help but think of the day he first spoke to you…how he found you standing in the rain moments after you brazenly bloomed before his very eyes. You were the image of pure tranquility…staring up at the sky while your lovely face glistened in the sprinkling rain.

The very thought of you drains every bit of his bitter anger out of him…leaving only misery and regret in its wake. He slowly descends towards an open area of the woodlands, no longer feeling up to flying away from the truth. His demonic form fades away with a quick flash as soon as he lands, kneeling upon the wet and grassy ground with a dull thud. The heavy rainfall immediately soaks through his slicked back hair and signature coat now that the thick armor plating is gone. But he hardly notices his drenched state while the thunderstorm raging on above, dejectedly hanging his head as he finally faces the truth buried deep within his tangled briars.

I’m afraid of getting hurt...again.

The hurtful memory of his mother leading Dante by the hand away from danger flashes before his eyes. He remembers seeing them enter the manor together from the playground…leaving him behind with the demons running amok. It was on that fateful day that he first felt the sting of rejection…being abandoned by his mother and watching her save his brother shaped his ruthless outlook on life for years to come. And even though he now knows that she not only turned back but died trying to save him…it still does not erase the pain he went through while enduring his past trauma and all the trials and tribulations thereafter.

I’m afraid of being rejected…again.

Vergil clenches his fists as another unwelcome memory comes to taunt him. He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping to bury the image of a woman clad in red back into the deeper recesses of his mind. What a strange twist of misfortune…he can recall the day she spurned his offer to stay with her, and yet he cannot even remember her face nor any other details about the mother of his only son! And with that little tryst, he learned a harsh yet necessary truth: rejection is inevitable when you’re a Son of Sparda.

But knowing a truth does not mean you have to accept it, my darling devil.

The sweet lilt of your voice shakes him out of his brooding thoughts, bringing him back down to the present. Even when you are not there with him…you know exactly what to say to pull him back from the darkest part of his crumbling soul. He blinks and wipes away droplets of rain from his eyes, but the relentless downpour of the storm blows against his gloomy face as he picks himself up from the grassy ground. The painful memories of his past slowly recede as he wanders aimlessly through the marshy woodlands, completely despondent while a litany of self-loathing spins uncontrollably around in his head.

How can a prickly devil such as myself ever be worthy of her love and affection?

I have nothing to offer her except torment and despair…

There’s no sense in delaying the inevitable.

After all, I’d only be a burden to her if I kept denying what I’ve always known since the beginning of our unlikely relationship...

I’m unworthy of the lovely rose that has bloomed within my heart.

His sulking spell comes to a screeching halt when the faint glimmer of a pink flower catches his eye. He suddenly becomes aware of surroundings; the thunderstorm has dwindled down to a light shower and the sky has grown dark with the approaching night. But the total loss of time doesn’t fully sink in as he moves in closer towards a peaceful pond, feeling drawn to the exquisite blossom upon its serene surface.

Whenever you find yourself consumed by despair…remember the spirit of the lotus.

The soothing tone of your voice drowns out his dreadful contemplation. He recalls the day he heard those wise words pass from your lips…he shared a meal with you for the very first time among the beautiful blooms of your garden. A lotus begins its existence in the dark and murky depths, your charming voice continues to ring through his head as he wades through the pond towards the lone lotus. For it to fully bloom it must endure those harsh conditions, pushing through the mud and the muck as it rises towards clearer waters. He reaches down and cups the elegant bloom with both of his hands while your flowery anecdote ends on a happy and hopeful note.

Eventually, its resilience pays off when the lotus breaks through the surface and its petals slowly unfurl to soak up the rays of the sun for the very first time.

Vergil summons a sword and carefully cuts the lone lotus from the pond. I may have missed the practice session…but perhaps this will make up for my tardiness, he surmises while storing the lotus inside his soaking wet coat before calling for the Yamato. He finds himself facing one last truth as he opens a portal just outside the gate behind your house:

You may be better off without him…but he simply can’t let go of the lovely rose that has miraculously bloomed within his briars.

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

You’ve had a pretty hectic week since the beach party: between putting together all the floral arrangements and many musical interludes with Vergil, you’ve been busier than a bee in the spring. And you’re only going to be buzzing around even harder now that the big day is only two days away! All of your time today was spent doing last minute preparations before the wedding rehearsal, making sure all the flowers are accounted for before being delivered, and squeezing in one last practice session before the imminent chaos of a wedding frenzy.

Well, that was the plan anyway, but then Vergil didn’t show up on the agreed time, which struck you as very odd…he’s always been so punctual and has even been cross with you on a couple occasions whenever he had to wait for you to join him! You tried calling his cellphone after waiting for a while, thinking that maybe he just got delayed or something…but there was no answer. And there must not be anyone at the shop either since nobody picked up the phone there either.

Your gut tells you that something is wrong, but you’re at a loss of what to do about it. You thought about contacting either Kyrie or Nero, but the soon-to-be wedded couple already have enough on her mind. Plus, you do not want to add any unnecessary stress if it turns out to be nothing at all. So, you decide to just keep an eye on your phone while putting the finishing touches on the dress you’ve made especially for the happy occasion.

I hope he’s okay, you thought, worrying your lower lip while reinforcing the floral embroidery with a needle and some thread. You try to stay focused on the task at hand, but your mind keeps going back to your darling devil. Vergil has become such a huge part of your everyday life ever since that fateful rainy day in the book café. It feels so empty without his familiar presence near you now…always watching from the corner of his eye with a soft smile or sharing a favorite passage from a beloved book. And even though your romantic feelings haven’t technically been reciprocated aloud, you know that your affection has taken root and with a little more patience…just a little more…

Another roll of distant thunder echoes through the room as the storm finally lets up, but now it has gotten dark outside. Your eyes flicker over to check the time on a nearby clock and see that you have missed dinner…by six hours! Sweet basil, I should really pay more attention! you berate yourself while cutting the thread with your teeth. You stick your sewing needle into a stuffed rose bud that serves as your pin cushion and gather up all the spare scrapes of tulle, lace, and satin. As you hang up the dress, you note that it’s so close to being complete; all it needs is some minor fixes and a good steaming before it’s ready for the wedding.

You sigh and head downstairs for a belated dinner, wondering if you should heat up some leftovers or just make a sandwich with some veggie chips. By the time you get to the kitchen, you’ve made up your mind and open the fridge to take out your homemade chicken salad with grapes and pecans. Your stomach growls impatiently as you grab a couple slices of ciabatta bread and put this simple meal together on a plate. You add some salt and vinegar zucchini chips to the plate before pouring yourself a tall glass of iced hibiscus tea.

“There…now it’s time to eat, drink, and be rosemary!” you cheer, softly giggling to yourself while taking your meal to the small dining table across from the kitchen.

You set your plate down before pulling a chair out, but the sudden ringing of your doorbell stops you from taking your seat. Huh…that’s strange, you muse with a curious tilt of your head, it’s a bit late for receiving visitors. You bite your lower lip and twirl a stray lock of your hair around your fingers while considering your options: it would be rude to not answer the door…after all, it could be someone in need of help! But then you remember the worried face of your darling devil that day in your garden when the demons attacked, recalling the promise you made to not put yourself into any possible danger ever again…

The doorbell rings once more and you finally decide to see who it could possibly be since it seems they have no intention of leaving. And besides, it could be Vergil, you reason while making your way down the hall. And he could even be hurt! you add in panic, picking up the pace until coming to a halt just on the other side of the front door. You take a quick peek through the tiny peephole and your starving stomach drops at the sight of a familiar stoic face on the other side of the door.

“What in carnation!” you gasp in shock before ripping the front door open. “Vergil? What are you doing out so late in this rain?”

The devil in question just silently stands there looking sullen and soaking wet as he glances down at you. His icy blue eyes are filled to the brim with melancholy and unspoken regret. And his perfectly styled white hair is now disheveled and framing his sodden face. He shows no sign of hearing your inquiry and continues to stare down at you quietly. You do not know what may have happened, but whatever it is…it’s shaken him to the core, and you will not idly stand by while your darling devil suffers alone.

“Here,” you whisper while offering your hand, “come inside.”

Vergil seems to ponder for a moment while his eyes dart down towards your hands. Then, he raises one gloved hand and places it upon your own warm and welcoming palm. You gently guide him inside your home, noting how cold and damp his skin is as you close the front door. “Alright,” you sigh in relief now that he is safe within the comforting walls of your home. “Now, you need some dry clothes to change into since you’re absolutely drenched!” you explain with a sweet and cheery grin.

You start to walk towards the stairs, but the slight tugging on your hands stops you in your tracks. “Don’t worry,” you murmur, looking back over your shoulder at the man who not only stole your heart, but also needs your help right now. “Let me take care of you, Vergil,” you plead quietly, reassuring him with a soft squeeze of your hand. The spark of concern within his eyes recedes as he nods his head in consent.

Your lips curl into a gracious smile as you lead him up the stairs and straight towards your bedroom. You hope that he doesn’t notice the mess in his distressed state as you usher him into your adjoining bathroom. “I’m gonna scrounge up some spare clothes while you dry off,” you explain with a gentle nod of your head. “And feel free to the shower if you want,” you suggest while pointing to one corner of your bathroom. “There should be some soap and shampoo already in there.”

Vergil looks at the glass doors of your shower and back at you before rubbing the back of your hand in understanding with his thumb. You squeeze his hand one last time before backing away towards the door. “Just uh…put your wet clothes right outside the door and I’ll take care of them,” you inform while stepping out of the bathroom, trying hard to not let your mind wander into more steamy territory. “And I’ll uh…leave those spare clothes just outside the door for you, okay?”

You give one last encouraging smile before closing the bathroom door. Your mind starts to race as you rush over to the closet and start frantically searching for anything that comes close to being his size. But all you can find is an oversized T-shirt and some baggy cotton pants that you sometimes wear to bed. Hmm…they might fit, you ponder before tossing them onto your bed along with a floral satin bathrobe you spot hanging on your vanity mirror. Then, you scurry down the upstairs hall and open the door to your childhood room, remembering that you had a large quantity of flowery fabric that you once used to make some curtains.

This will do nicely if all else fails! you reckon with a crafty grin while cutting a huge section of the fabric off the spool. You fold it up nicely and head back to your bedroom to put it with the assortment of clothing by the bathroom door. A pile of soggy blue clothes is waiting right outside the door just as you requested, so you quickly drop off the dry clothes and carefully gather up his signature coat, vest, leather pants, boots, gloves…

Your eyes widen when you realize that there isn’t any underwear to be found. You look towards the bathroom door just as the shower turns on and you find yourself thinking about all the times you spent together, wondering if he had always…you can’t even finish the thought without blushing. There’s no time for dilly-dallying! you reprimanded yourself with a shake of your head before marching out of your bedroom and back downstairs to take care of Vergil’s wet clothes.

You zoom by the belated dinner that is still waiting for you on the small dining table, but you ignore it for now and open the door to the laundry room. As you place the pile of clothes on top of the dryer, you catch a whiff of what smells like the lake in your hometown: murky and a little bit musty with a hint of fresh rain. Did he go swimming in the middle of that thunderstorm? you wonder while sorting through the wet clothes. You decide to at least wash his signature coat and hang the rest up to dry since they need special treatment to get clean.

It only takes you a couple seconds to check the pockets before putting his coat into the washer with a scoop of laundry detergent. Then, you dig up a few hangers lying around before hanging up the rest of his clothes except for his boots, which go underneath your ironing board to prevent any tripping. You walk out of the laundry room and your stomach growls impatiently as you pass by your neglected dinner again…but the sudden thought of preparing a place for Vergil to sleep delays your meal for just a bit longer as you rush back upstairs.

The only other bedroom you have is your old childhood room, but it’s more of a supply closet now for various things. And your mother’s small and quaint library would work if it weren’t for all the dust plus the lack of furniture. So, that only leaves your room or the couch in your living room…you can already feel your cheeks heating up at the thought of inviting Vergil to share your bed. But your heart tells you that despite the tempting opportunity, now is not the time to pull such a risky move since it’s obvious that something is troubling him…and you’re going to help soothe his sorrowful soul.

You enter your room and notice that the shower is no longer running as you head towards the closet again. And as you walk back out with an arm full of pillows and blankets, you note that the assortment of dry clothes you left out is now gone. You hurry down the stairs and dump the pillows onto a nearby chair so that you can lay a couple of blankets out on the couch. Then, you replace all the decorative pillows with comfier ones while looking over your handy work. But when you take in the overall size of your couch, you start to wonder if his long legs will even be able to rest on the couch comfortably.

Well, it’ll have to do, you thought with a resigned sigh while turning around to check up on your devilish guest.

“Friggin’ figs!”

The sudden appearance of Vergil quietly lurking behind you makes your heart skip a beat as you jump back a little. You clutch your chest while taking a couple of deep breaths as your eyes linger up and down his form. The floral satin robe stretches taut around his shoulders, and you guess that it must’ve been too short since the flowery fabric is wrapped around his waist and hanging down below his knees. His eyes still have a gloomy spark within their icy blue depths as they stare back at you through his damp hair. And even with that pouty frown on his handsome face, he looks a lot better than when he first walked into your home a little while ago. So, you let your usual quip about wrapping a bell around his neck die of your tongue and give him a relieved smile.

“I brought out some extra pillows and blankets just in case you needed them,” you explain, gesturing behind you towards the now ready-for-bed couch. “But it might be a bit too small for you,” you tack on sheepishly, biting your lower lip in thought while Vergil takes a couple steps closer to you. “Maybe I should just sleep here while you…take…” you gradually trail off as he brings one hand around from behind his back to reveal an extraordinarily beautiful pink lotus flower. Your heart thrums like a buzzing dragonfly as you reach out to caress one of its many elegant petals.

“Is this why you were completely soaked from head to toe?” you inquire, realizing that he must have waded out into a deep pond to pick this flower of pure devotion. He remains silent as you look up at him, but the way his eyes soften for the barest of moments before slowly blinking tells you it’s part of the reason why he’s so drenched. Your lips quirk into a fond smile at the thought of your prim and proper devil trudging through mucky water for a most wondrous bloom just so he could give it to you.

“It’s getting late,” you murmur while lowering your affectionate gaze to the offered flower, taking it from his hand and holding it close to your heart. “We need to get some rest since the wedding rehearsal is tomorrow and-”

“Stay with me.”

Your eyes widen and snap back up to meet his solemn gaze. Vergil takes another step closer to you, reaching up with one hand to cup your face. You find that you cannot deny his earnest request as you lean into his touch and shiver at his warm touch as he caresses your rosy cheek. “Okay…but let me just-”

The very loud and hungry growl of your stomach abruptly ends the tender moment. Vergil furrows his brow in confusion while you softly giggle and pat your belly. “I was about to eat dinner when you arrived,” you reveal with a bashful smirk. He frowns sadly at your words and begins to move away, but you place your hand on top of his before it can leave your cheek and press a soft kiss against his wrist.

“Let me just grab my plate and bring it in here,” you continue while rubbing the back of his hand. “I can also make you something to eat too if you haven’t had dinner yet,” you kindly insist with a small smirk.

Vergil declines your offer of dinner with a shake of his head. Your lips press one last kiss against his wrist before excusing yourself with a light pat on the back of his hand. You place the precious lotus flower on the coffee table before dashing to your neglected sandwich, which is still patiently waiting along with your now lukewarm drink. But you don’t seem to notice as you pick it all up and hurry back to the living room.

You take a seat on the couch and invite Vergil to join you by patting the empty cushion beside you with a pleasant smile. The corners of his mouth twitch into a soft smile as he sits down close to you. The only sound filling the comfortable silence between you two is the light tapping of rain against the roof of your house. His stiff posture gradually unwinds as he watches you from the corner of his eye while you finally eat your dinner. You give him a veggie chip after every other bite of your sandwich, which he always accepts despite turning down your earlier offer of food.

You ask if he still needs some company before going to bed as soon as you are finished eating your dinner. He responds with the same soft request while squeezing your hand within his firm grip. His eyes track your every move as you collect the dirty dishes before standing up, never letting your hand go until you let him know that you will only be gone for a moment. “I can’t very well sleep in this dress now, can I?” you ask with a soft giggle, slightly swinging your clasped hands while gesturing towards your pink and white floral skirt.

Vergil nods his head in understanding and kisses the back of your hand before letting it go. You walk back to the kitchen to put the dirty dishes in the sink, and then you quickly make your way upstairs to get ready for bed. Some of your daydreams about giving your darling devil a place to stay after a rigorous battle with demons start running through your mind while picking out a nightgown. You also recall one particular daydream about patching up his wounds after saving you from mortal peril…which somehow leads to you writhing in pleasure beneath him…

Your cheeks feel like they are on fire by the time you finally settle on wearing a long nightgown with a white floral pattern. You get undressed and slip on the gown before letting down your hair, pushing all the salacious thoughts out of your mind with a flustered shake of your head. After taking a few more minutes to use the bathroom and brush your teeth, you head downstairs and hurry back towards the laundry room to put his signature coat into the dryer before rejoining your darling devil in the living room.

Vergil hasn’t moved an inch since you left, still sitting motionless on the couch until he hears your dainty footsteps. He raises his head up at your soft approach, and you swear his eyes seem to dimly glow as they roam up and down your shapely form. Your body shivers at his blatant gaze as you adjust some of the pillows on one end of the couch before grabbing one of the numerous blankets you brought for him. You know…it would’ve made more sense to give him one of these instead of that huge piece of fabric, you silently admit, hiding the embarrassment of making such a silly decision with a coy smile.

You sit back down on the couch and lie back against the pillows, beckoning Vergil to come join you while holding both your arms out towards him. He only hesitates for a moment before crawling over and laying his head just below your chin while you cover both of your bodies with the blanket. His arms wrap around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You nuzzle the top of his head while your arms encircle his broad shoulders, sheathing his weary soul with the love and affection you have for him.

Both of you lie there on the couch swathed in each other’s comforting presence while the rest of the world passes by in silence. Vergil has only spoken three words since arriving at your doorstep, never revealing what exactly is wrong. But now that he’s safe within your arms, you can feel the faint trickling of tears dripping against your neck, hidden away from your view as you snuggle him closer. You do not ask why he’s crying…you know that will only thicken the prickly briars around his heart. Instead, you just let him express the inner turmoil currently raging inside him while providing a safe place for him to release all these pent-up emotions churning inside him.

The harsh downpour from earlier has now lessened to a light rainfall, barely occupying the empty air with its pitter pattering of the dissipating storm. You can still feel Vergil trying to put up a strong front despite the tears pooling in the groove between your neck and chest. Your fingers brush through his soft hair while you press a comforting kiss upon his forehead, wondering how you can possibly bring peace to his troubled mind. The only solution that pops into your head is what your grandma used to do whenever you were sad and upset: sing you to sleep with a lullaby. So, you begin to softly sing one of your favorite lullabies from your childhood, hoping that the serene lilt of your song will help soothe your darling devil’s soul:

Count to one, count to two, where do flowers grow?

Underneath the window where children softly doze

The moon shining brightly makes every petal glow

Count to three, count to four, where do flowers bloom?

Resting upon the mirror frame in mama's room,

A sweet little bud of a beautiful flower of blue

Let us count them all, let us count them all,

All the lovely flowers blooming, let us count them all!

Count to seven, count to eight, as we fall asleep

Every child is dreaming of fragrant flowers sweet

And momma makes a bouquet for you to keep

The soft cadence of your voice fills the room, banishing the gloomy air surrounding you with every refrain of your sweet lullaby. You feel all the tension slowly leave Vergil’s body until all that you’re left with is a totally relaxed devil sinking into your loving embrace. One of your hands rubs up and down his back while the other continues to rake your fingers through his hair, hoping that you lulled him to sleep while your eyes droop from your own drowsiness. You try to fight it off, wanting to be there for him just in case he needs you, but you feel yourself drifting off…clutching onto him while trying to stay grounded in the waking world…

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

You’re not aware of finally succumbing to sleep until the first ray of dawn shines through the window. You slowly open your eyes and start to wonder why you are sleeping on the couch instead of your very comfy bed…but then you feel the soft touch of familiar lips kissing your neck. The memory of Vergil showing up at your doorstep in the middle of a storm swiftly dispels your confusion. You hug the man that makes your heart sing like a songbird in the morning while his lips leave your neck to bestow a light peck on your cheek.

Vergil props himself up with one arm and brushes a few locks of your hair away from your weary face. “Good morning, my lovely rose,” he murmurs with a fond smirk.

“Mmm…good morning,” you hum, sweetly smiling back at him while looking down with a demure tilt of your head. “Feeling any better now that you’ve had some rest?” you inquire, fighting the urge to yawn while rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Yes,” he replies with a firm nod. “But sleep isn’t what lifted my spirits,” he admits, softly caressing your cheek as his silver blue eyes shine with admiration.

You happily beam up at him and quietly bask in this intimate moment while leaning into his touch before asking if he would like some morning tea. He gladly accepts your offer with a slight nod of his head and sits up so that you can get up from the couch. You catch a glimpse of his bare legs in all their glory before he covers them up with the blanket. The flowery fabric must’ve come loose during his sleep, you surmise, spotting the piece of fabric in question down on the floor by the couch. Warm tingles flutter around in your stomach like a swarm of butterflies as you hop off the couch and rush towards the kitchen before you make a blushing fool of yourself so early in the morning.

It takes you a few minutes to brew a couple cups of blackberry and mint tea while pushing away all the elaborate daydreams that try to occupy your thoughts. You make your way back to the living room and hand Vergil his cuppa with a kind smile before taking a seat next to him. Both of you drink your tea in comfortable silence, enjoying the sweet tartness of blackberries while the refreshing undertone of mint banishes the remnants of sleep from your mind. You peek up at him between every other sip of your tea, wondering if you should even bring up what happened to him yesterday.

You wait until he’s about done with his tea before finally broaching the subject. “Do you want to talk about what made you so upset?”

Vergil pauses at your question while setting his cup down on the coffee table. You give him a moment to recover before continuing. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” you softly reassure with a comforting pat on his arm. “And if you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to-”

“You’ve already done so much for me,” he interjects, staring down at you with dejected eyes. “And it is I that should return the favor and explain myself.” He takes your partly finished tea and sets it next to his empty cup before turning his body towards you on the couch while holding both of your hands. His thumb sweeps across your knuckles as he takes a moment to collect his thoughts. You cannot help but to admire his handsome face while waiting for him to speak, wondering if his unkempt hair always frames those beautifully blue eyes of his every morning.

Vergil takes a deep breath through his nose before pinning you down with his pensive gaze. “For a long time, I genuinely believed that my mother abandoned me during the attack on our childhood home. I’ve endured for years with that burdensome truth hanging over my head until…” he trails off, squeezing your hands while closing his eyes for a moment before going on. “It turns out that she did try to save me…she just didn’t make it before…” he pauses again as the trauma of his childhood breaks through his voice.

Your eyes begin welling up with unshed tears as he takes a shuddering breath, wanting to wrap your darling devil within your protective embrace. But he quickly composes himself with another calm and more even breath, and you resist the urge to pull him into a hug for now as he continues to speak. “And then there was this woman who I thought…” he bows his head and rubs the back of your hands with his thumbs as he tells you the sad ending of that romance. “She spurned me even after I confessed my desire to stay by her side.”

You hear the sharp pang of heartache in his words, which dredges up your own personal experiences with the painful sting of rejection. A single tear starts trickling down your cheek as you lean over and nuzzle up against his chest, squeezing his hands in understanding while he finishes his explanation. “I finally just resigned myself to living a life spent alone, vowing to never let anyone get too close again since all they ever bring is pain and suffering...until now.”

Vergil grasps your shoulder and gently pushes you back from his chest. “I find myself wanting to spend my every waking moment with you,” he earnestly confesses, bringing his hand below your chin and lifting your face up so that he can stare into your teary eyes. “The lovely rose who has captivated the heart and soul of this crumbling devil before you,” he adds with a sincere smile, cupping your lovely face and wiping away your warm tears with his thumb.

Your heart thrums within your chest like a hummingbird as his heartfelt confession graces your ears. You gaze up at the man who has cleared a path through his prickly briars to the heart and soul of his very being. You’ve longed to hear those words ever since that day in the book café where you finally found the courage to speak to him. It ended with you making the promise of only taking a small step among the briars and yet, here you are now…just one last step away from the alluring devil that has captured your heart and soul as well.

Vergil leans down and rests his head against your brow, still rubbing your cheek fondly while staring deeply into your hopeful eyes. You’re drawn to the flicker of conviction within the depth of his icy blue eyes, and you feel yourself being pulled in closer and closer…but the sudden flash of uncertainty gives you pause. You silently ask if this is truly what he wants with a tilt of your head. He sighs and takes both of your hands once more, closing his eyes before lifting his head to press a soft kiss between your brow.

“I have nothing to offer to you in return,” he murmurs sadly against your skin. “And I’m not worthy of your love and affection.”

Your eyes widen in astonishment as you rear your head back. “But you’ve already given me the best gift, my darling devil,” you reveal, shaking your head at his silly assumption with an amused smirk.

“Truly?” he whispers while the little crinkle between his brow that you’ve always found so endearing furrows in confusion.

“Of course!” you giggle softly, nodding your head as you lean in closer. “I’ve seen your requited love with every flower you’ve ever given me.” Your eyes glance over at the exquisite lotus flower still sitting on the coffee table near your forgotten cup of tea. “And with every soft caress upon my cheek…” You lift your arm and trace up along his elegant jaw with the back of your hand. “And with every gentle kiss pressing so sweetly…”

You lean up as far as you can without leaving your seat and press your lips just above the corner of his mouth, mimicking his previous kisses at the beach and by the camellias. All signs of lingering doubt vanish from his eyes, which only leaves a fierce flicker that sparks into unbridled desire. He leans down and wraps his arms around you while lowering his head towards your chest, pulling you closer to him until you are practically sitting in his lap. You feel his mouth moving just below your neck as he softly recites what sounds like a poem, but the intimate touch of his lips muddles your mind while his sensuous voice makes your body tremble with anticipation:

Innocent breasts, when I have looked upon them,

Would that my hands were there,

How have I craved, and dreaming thus upon them,

Love wakened from despair.

Vergil pauses and nuzzles your neck for a moment before drawing back to pull you even closer to him. You clutch the floral satin robe around his shoulders and let out a shuddering sigh as he cups your flushed cheek once more, meeting your ardent gaze while gently nestling his face closer to your own. His thumb slowly traces your gaping mouth as he continues his riveting recitation:

Beauty on lips flaming,

Roses red with her shaming,

And I with passion burning

And with my whole heart yearning

For her mouth, her mouth, her mouth,

That on her beauty I might slake my drouth.

A soft whimper creeps up your throat when the amorous poem comes to an end, but the feel of his soft lips crashing against your mouth turns the whimper into an enraptured moan. You tilt your head slightly while your arms slide up around his neck, letting him have more access to your lips as you kiss him back with wild abandon. All the pent-up tension of the last few months is finally released as both of your lips smack against each with feverous hunger. One of your hands slithers down his chest and slips beneath the satin robe before resting right over his heart. You let the rhythm of his passionate heartbeat lull you into a rapturous stupor, relishing the sight, the smell, the feel, the taste…just everything about the devil sets your heart aflame.

Vergil squeezes your hip with one hand while the other rakes through your hair, cradling your head as he swipes his tongue out against your lower lip. You part your lips and softly moan as he plunges in, showing no mercy as he explores the cavern of your mouth with his devilish tongue. His movements are a bit clumsy from lack of practice, but his enthusiasm makes up for it as he guides you to lie back on the couch, never breaking away from your lips while enclosing you beneath his body. You surge forth and entangle your tongue with his own while pulling him tighter against you, greedy for more of your darling devil’s kiss after waiting for so long. The outside world fades away and time becomes meaningless as both of your lips silently beg for more, more, more…

The unexpected chime of your doorbell rings through the room, but neither of you cease your heady kissing as it rings again…and again…until a series of very loud knocking cracks against your front door. Vergil finally breaks away from your gasping mouth with a growl, glaring towards your front door with spite in his eyes. You are about to wonder who could be visiting this early in the morning aloud when a familiar voice booms through the door:

“Hey, Buttercup! Anyone home?”

Dante gives another ring of the doorbell along with some more knocking, which only deepens the vicious scowl on his brother’s face. You sigh softly and cup his cheek before turning his harsh gaze back towards you with a tender caress of your thumb. His silvery blue eyes instantly soften as soon as they peer down at your flushed face, and he smirks with pride while bending down to kiss your reddened lips. He tries to pry your lips open once more, but you gently push him back before his tempting tongue can sweep away.

“We both know that he’s not going anywhere until we answer,” you point out while the knocking gets even louder. “Plus, it sounds like he’s about to break down my door!”

Vergil remains still as he stares down you, mulling over your reasoning as his brother’s persistence makes his brow twitch with annoyance. “Foolishness,” he growls softly before sitting up on the couch so that you can go get the door. The floral satin robe loosened up a little during your heated kiss, so you do your best to not openly stare at his chest as he wraps a blanket around his waist. You pick up the flowery fabric from the floor and cloak it over your shoulders as you scamper off towards the entryway.

You open the door just as Dante is about to bang on it again. “Well, look who’s up earlier than a morning glory!” you exclaim with a radiant smile while placing a hand on your hip.

Dante nods his head in greeting before rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry for waking you up so early,” he apologizes with a sheepish grin, but you can see a glint of worry within his eyes before it quickly disappears. “But my cranky brother ran away from home and I was wonderin’ if you’ve seen him recently?” he asks while taking out a piece of paper from his coat pocket. He opens it up and shows you a poor rendition of his brother’s likeness drawn in what looks to be crayon.

“I am not some stray dog, Dante!”

You look over your shoulder at the sound of Vergil’s angry voice. He stomps across the living room towards the entryway while Dante lets out a bark of laughter at his brother’s furious remark. “Well, ya could’ve fooled…me…” he stammers, eyes growing wide with shock as Vergil appears behind you. Your head turns back and forth between them as they just stare at each other in silence, comparing Dante’s astonished grin to Vergil’s severe frown.

Your eyes glance up at Vergil as you step away from the door. “I’m gonna check to see if your clothes are dry,” you inform, gesturing towards the laundry with your head. “Just please don’t damage my front porch, okay?” you implore with a charming grin.

Vergil chortles at your humorous plea. “You have my word,” he vows with a small stoic bow before stepping out onto your porch, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Your ears pick up the distinct sound of summon swords materializing as you rush towards the laundry room. You wince at Dante’s grunts of pain echoing through the hall as you enter the kitchen. But instead of checking on his clothes, you sneak out the back door and run through your garden, not caring about the morning dew chilling your bare feet as you quickly pick the perfect flowers. Then, you hurry back inside to really check on his clothes this time; his shoes and leather pants are fairly dry while his vest remains very damp. You open the dryer and pull out his signature coat, nodding your head in approval at its crisp and clean appearance before laying it out on your ironing board.

I can’t tie flowers around the Yamato this time, but I can still surprise him in other ways! you contend while going back to the kitchen. You bind the little bouquet of flowers with some twine you cut from a spare spool before heading back to the laundry room. All the lovely memories of Vergil pulling flowers from the inside pocket of his coat plays in your mind as you hide the pretty blooms in the very same place. The front door slams shut just as you are gathering his clothes into your arms. You walk out the laundry room and meet Vergil in the hallway, exchanging a few hurried words as you lead him down the hall towards the guest bathroom.

You tidy up the living room while he changes clothes, but your thoughts are buzzing with all that has happened since late last night. The couch is still slightly warm from both of you sleeping there…and kissing there. Your lips tingle at the thought, already aching for another kiss from your darling devil. The familiar warmth of a blush dusts your cheeks as you fold the blankets and stack the pillows. As soon as the couch is all straightened out, you turn to the coffee table and reach for the teacups, but an almost fully dressed Vergil entering the living room halts your hand.

The vest must’ve been too damp for his liking, you observe with subtle gulp while your eyes appreciate the pleasant view of a disheveled devil walking towards you. The lapels of his signature coat sway with every step, revealing just enough of his bare chest for your hungry eyes. And you cannot help but to admire the alluring sway of his white hair around his gorgeous face as he pins you down with his fierce gaze. The knowing smirk curling on his lips makes you shiver with delight as he stands in front of you.

“I guess you’ve got to go now, huh?” you inquire with a doleful pout.

Vergil gives you a confirming nod. “I promised Nero that I would help him memorize his vows before rehearsal later this afternoon,” he informs while taking your hand within his gentle grasp. “Thank you for receiving me with such warm generosity despite my tardiness.” He bows his head and lifts your hand up to give the top of your knuckles a tender kiss. His adoring gaze never strays from your enamored stare as his lips linger up the back of your hand. “And thank you for the lovely flowers in my coat pocket,” he murmurs, pressing one last kiss against your hand with a smug grin.

You let out a small huff as his lips draw back from your hand. “You’re supposed to find them while walking back to the shop!” you exclaim as he reaches into his coat to reveal what you thought was a well-hidden tiny bouquet of snowdrops with a single red dahlia. “They would’ve looked prettier on the Yamato anyway,” you mutter, rolling your eyes while staring down at your feet in defeat.

“I tend to agree.”

Vergil extends his arm to the side and a sudden flash of bright blue energy surrounds his hand. Your eyes widen in surprise as the Yamato materializes out of thin air within his grasp. He hands the flowers over to you before holding the impressive sword out for you to tie the tiny bouquet to its sheath. Your face lights up and an excited giggle escapes your lips as you loosen the twine around the flowers and carefully wrap them around the Yamato. The white snowdrops add a touch of hopefulness while the single red dahlia compliments the sword’s power and strength, perfectly conveying the message you wish to send:

Never doubt my love for I’ve always been forever yours.

“There!” you exclaim as soon as you are done tying the flowers with a secure bow. “They really are quite beautiful, aren’t they?”

You feel your heart bloom as you glance up to behold his besotted gaze. “Yes,” he replies while wrapping an arm around your waist. “But it’s not their beauty that captivates me, my beloved rose,” he declares before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

Your mouth instantly gives into his unyielding mouth with a soft whimper, clutching the lapels of his coat while craning your neck to meet every ravenous stroke of his tongue. This kiss is more desperate, as if he’s begging you to accept every scar upon his soul, pleading that you’ll stay beside him despite the dangers of treading through his prickly briars. And you give yourself to him openly, accepting his battered and bruised soul, vowing to love every part of him despite all the thorns that may cut you along the way. Neither of you want the kiss to end, constantly taking turns drawing back only to be drawn in again for just a little bit longer…but both of you have a busy day ahead. So, your fervid kiss eventually slows down until both of you exchange a few sweet pecks on each other’s lips.

You walk with Vergil to the entryway but stop him from opening the door, claiming that he needs to give you a farewell kiss with a cheery grin. He raises an amused brow and bends down to fulfill your request, giving you the perfect opening to rake your fingers through his hair. He hums against your lips as the soft white locks stay up in his usual slicked back style, and you happily announce that he’s now ready to face the chaos of a wedding rehearsal. He chuckles softly at your cute gesture and promises to speak more about your newfound relationship after the wedding before taking his leave.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, you look through the peephole and see Dante waiting at the bottom of your driveway. Vergil walks past him and down the street, which earns an amused shrug from his brother before he chases after him. You continue to watch until both of them disappear from your view before turning around and leaning back against the door. You lift your hand and lightly touch your lips, which still tingle from your darling devil’s kiss as the significance of what just happened sinks in…and then, you let out a joyous squeal while bouncing around like a bumbling bee.

He called me his beloved rose!

This subtle change to his endearment for you may be small, but it’s enough to send your heart soaring high like a skylark. Never have you felt such sweet bliss as this…but there’s no time dawdle with an impending wedding around the corner! So, you fly up the stairs to get ready for the day busy ahead while thinking about Vergil. And as your mind wanders through many rapturous daydreams, you reflect upon a certain truth within your heart: you will gladly bear the prick of your darling devil’s pain for there will always be thorns amidst the roses.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Read on Ao3

My Masterlist if you want more 💖

The lullaby is Hanakazoe (Chise’s Lullaby). The steamy poem is from Carmina Burana (trans. by Helen Waddell). And I’d like to thank @furyeclipse and @twinkstimulator for beta reading my first attempt at angst 🌹😘🌹

Tagging: @drusoona @bettybattaglia @exsultry @thedyingmoon @veenus-ow @meowykittenn @fandomhell97 @vergilsangel @thenightgazer @cherryvane @yesno18 @diabeticsugarush @queenmuzz @mary-v-o-n @tinamalee @a-midsummer-nights-odyssey @ancientwhitefire @agentdedf1sh @divinity-deos @shiranyaaww @skarlet-red-rose @lucinalu219 @superluckystar

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 3 years

Text

Roguish Women Part 48

Summary: Kate is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 48: Kate and Tommy’s wedding. During the reception, Alfie asks a serious question.

“Tommy and I are getting married tomorrow. I still can’t believe it. Even saying it out loud is like a surprise.” Kate laughed softly to herself. She was in the stables, taking her time grooming Blue. It was spring and his winter coat was shedding off and Kate wanted to see his black coat gleaming in the warm sun again. She spoke softly with the gelding as she combed his made and brushed his coat.

Although she was happy about finally getting to the altar after such a long time of waiting, nerves were starting to get the better of her. With her past and with Tommy’s, it was hard to tell what the future held. But what Kate wanted was to at least try to guarantee a good life for their children.

�� Besides, she decided that maybe she was still clinging to the idea that she didn’t deserve love. Something that she knew Tommy struggled with too.

“I’m sure everything will go alright. At least Tommy’s already gone through a wedding before.”

“Oi, heard that.”

Kate poked her head out of the stall and smiled. Her fiancée was walking down the stable aisle. “I’m just stating facts.” She replied with a smug look. "Out of the two of us, you're the one with wedding experience."

Tommy chuckled and pecked her lips. “You might want to duck out while you can, the boys are coming soon.” The day before the wedding, Arthur set up to go hunting in Warwickshire to celebrate with just the lads. “And they’ve already had a go at some champagne.”

“Well, I’ll make myself scarce. I don’t want to ruin the fun.” She teased.

“Oh please, they’d get a kick out of you coming along.” Tommy stroked Blue’s nose as he poked his head out of the stall to greet him. “Want me to take him?”

“What do you think?” Kate cooed to the gelding. “Do you want to go along for the hunt?” She patted his strong neck. “I think he’d have fun. Lord knows I can’t entertain him much.” She rested a hand on her stomach. It was more than obvious that Kate was pregnant. At five months she had gone through a variety of getting dresses rehemmed or buying new clothes all together.

“I’ll take good care of him,” Tommy promised and began to head to the tack room. But his fiancée stopped him.

“Y’know, I was talking to Frances today,” She said. “Um, about the nursery.”

The two had talked plenty about the pregnancy and subsequently the child or children, depending on if Polly was right. They had even discussed names. But the upstairs of Arrow House had become like a minefield.

Grace’s room was locked and only Tommy had the key. The unfinished nursery that adjoined the room was still under debate. Kate felt as if it was her duty to make sure she wasn’t forcing him into anything. The estate had more than enough rooms to accommodate them if he wanted to close off that part of the hallway.

Yet Tommy had pushed his feelings down. Deep down. As if he was trying to force everything to be okay.

“The nursery is half done.” He replied. “All the furniture is new; we’d just need another cot if it’s twins like Pol says.”

“If it’s twins then maybe we should use one of the bigger rooms?” She moved cautiously through the conversation. The last thing she wanted to do was put a damper on his day. But she still thought it was important.

He met her eyes. “Kate, we talked about this.”

“I know I just worry that you’re not addressing how you feel.” She touched his cheek. “The more honest you are with yourself; the easier life is.”

“We have time on another day to discuss it further.” He kissed her cheek. “Go on back to the house and rest. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I think you’re right about twins, Pol,” Ada said.

“When have I been wrong?”

Kate chuckled softly. She turned right and left to look at herself in the mirror. Ada wasn’t joking. She remembered seeing Ada and Esme pregnant and they didn’t show nearly as much as she did. Especially in a wedding dress, it was hard to conceal. Not that she particularly meant to. She didn’t think anyone who was coming to the wedding that day would be openly critical. “Are there twins in your family?” She wondered.

“Maybe a pair on the Strong side,” Polly recalled and walked over to place a dazzling barrette in Kate’s hair to hold back the curls from her face.

“I didn’t know my mother’s side of the family very well,” Kate admitted. “It may be from her family.”

Polly pivoted the conversation. “Are you sure about walking down the aisle alone? Arthur said he would walk with you.”

“Yeah, he talked to me about it yesterday.” Kate mindlessly adjusted her dress in the mirror, smoothing a hand over her baby bump. “I appreciate it, but I’ll be alright.” There was never a point in her life where she pictured anyone giving her away. She never pictured herself walking down the aisle, to begin with. Her father was never fit enough to be that sort of figure in her life before his death. She felt much more comfortable making the short walk by herself. That's how she found her way to Tommy, all on her own.

“Here.” Ada helped Kate step into her heels so she wouldn’t have to bend down.

“Well, if you change your mind, I’m sure Arthur won’t mind the short notice.” Polly smiled and made sure every Kate’s hair was in place.

Ada glanced up as she fixed the straps of Kate’s heels. “Is it true you invited Alfie Solomons?” She wondered.

“I know his popularity in the family is mixed but he’s a good friend.” Kate asserted so there would be no confusion on the matter.

“It’s your day. Whoever you want at your wedding, you can invite.” Polly nodded in agreement. Although in the back of her mind she hoped that Tommy had prepared the others to see Alfie. She didn’t want the wedding erupting in chaos over some old bad blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m leaving.”

“Brother, easy.” Tommy grabbed Arthur by the suit sleeve before he could storm across the lawns and out of sight.

The guests were starting to take their seats and it just so happened that Alfie Solomons had a near front-row seat to watch the affair. He had a beautiful woman on his arm, Mabel. She looked less like the painfully shy thing that Kate had met at the boxing match. In fact, she was positively glowing with happiness as she exchanged kisses with her sister and the other ladies of the Forty Elephants.

“You invite him to your fucking wedding? Your home?” Arthur seethed under his breath trying not to cause too much of a scene until he had an explanation.

“Kate invited him,” Tommy replied quietly, not to draw attention to them. “And I won’t have you fighting with him on my fucking wedding day. I’ll keep him away from you if you promise you won’t kick-off. If you upset Kate, you're dead.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes and reached into his coat pocket for his flask. “Could’ve warned me.” He muttered.

“I did tell you. Not my fault you were too high on snow not to remember.” Tommy let go of Arthur’s sleeve, confident that his threat had done the trick. “He’s retired, anyways.”

“Men like that don’t retire.” Arthur tucked his flask away.

"Men like us don't retire." Tommy clarified.

The sun had come out, thankfully, for the wedding. Although Polly wanted the union to be under God’s watchful eye, Tommy and Kate had balked. Kate was unsure if she wanted to step on a nerve and get married in the same church Tommy and Grace did. There was no use in being forced to relive painful memories on what was supposed to be a happy day.

Kate suggested perhaps getting married outside. Arrow House had plenty of room out in the lawns. And it reminded her of John and Esme’s wedding. There was something so romantic to her about the beautiful countryside in the spring.

Tommy agreed and a suitable wedding venue was arranged. They were just fortunate that the weather had held and it hadn’t rained like the week before.

So many times, Tommy had thought he’d lost Kate for good. On his journey to bring her home, he was restless as they crossed the Atlantic.

He hardly slept at all, spending most of his time, smoking on the deck of the ship. In the night, he waited until land came into view. But the inky black expanse of the waters and the night sky gave him nothing.

He tried to think of what to say to her. The last words she spoke to him still cut so deep. He knew they weren’t true. She still loved him. But she was trying to keep him safe, trying to sacrifice herself.

He pictured beating Santo Leoni into a bloody pulp. The sound of the gun as he put a bullet through the man’s head.

Finally, the coast came into view. Exhausted but the drive to bring Kate back to safety kept him awake and alert.

On the phone, Frank told him that Kate was fine and that she had killed Santo herself. Tommy hung up and could barely stand still as he waited. The wait at the port felt longer than the entire trip across the ocean. Every second dragged on until the car pulled up.

Kate threw herself out of the car before it had even stopped. Tommy felt so much relief he could’ve cried. He vowed to himself that he would never let her go from that point on.

“You look like you’ve gone into a dream state,” Kate murmured to him when Tommy took her hand.

“I’m trying to convince myself it isn’t a dream.” He replied with a soft smile.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, they’ve been inseparable since he left for Margate. Lillian said Mabel hasn't come back to Camden since she first visited him. She simply had her stuff sent to her. Been there ever since and has no plans of leaving.” Alice loosely held the champagne flute in her hand. She and Kate were speaking on the edges of the dancefloor. "Of course, everyone's talking about it, but nothing to change. They seem to be in love, far as Lillian says."

Arrow House was abuzz with energy after Tommy and Kate married. The reception was considerably less proper compared to Tommy’s first one with Grace. With no cavalry members in sight, it was a little more relaxed. Not to mention the number of criminal masterminds in attendance. But truthfully, they were the most fun.

Kate looked smug watching Alfie and Mabel talking across the dance floor. “Well, I won’t say I told him so.”

Alice smiled and finished her champagne. “Alfie handed over some paperwork to me this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Wants me to take over the bakery.”

Kate tried to play it cool even though she was excited for her friend and even more excited that Alfie had gone through with what he said. Maybe this was his final act of retirement and his acceptance of his new life with Mabel. “Well, you have the support of the Peaky Blinders.”

“Just can’t wait to see Sabini’s face when he finds out.”

“Ha,” Kate snorted. “I’d like to see that too.”

“Mind if I interrupt?” Tommy stepped into their conversation.

Kate beamed. What had been such a beautiful ceremony was melting into the ideal she never knew she wanted. A life forever by the side of the man she loved.

“Of course.” Alice smiled. “I’m going to go find Lillian and Ruby.”

Tommy took Kate’s hand and led her to the dancefloor. Holding her close, they began to sway together to the soft jazz music.

“You haven’t gone off to meet with some crazy Russian duchess again, have you?” Kate teased.

He chuckled. “For a Shelby wedding, this has been very uneventful.”

“The night is still young.” She murmured in his ear with a smile.

“I like it better this way.” He admitted. “I didn’t want anything to happen, it wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“You’ve always treated me like I’m some sort of royalty.” She lightly ran her fingers up the nape of his neck.

“That’s how you deserve to be treated. Every day I was apart from you, I promised I would make it up to you.”

“Tom, you don’t need to beat yourself up because of the past. I’m here, we’re finally married. We’re going to be parents soon. Everything that happened, happened. And despite all of it, all my paths lead back to you.” She stopped dancing a moment so she could look him in the eyes. “And they always will.”

Tommy saw the world in her eyes. A world very unlike the one he had planned for so many years. In Kate’s eyes, he saw himself walking away from everything. Moving into Arrow House permanently. Raising the children, they would have. Spending his days riding horses, hunting, and being the best father, he could.

Those blue eyes invited him to do all of that and more. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

He gently kissed her, hoping that he could hold steady onto his given path.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Thought I’d find you out here.” Tommy sat down on the front steps next to Alfie. “Mabel was asking around for you. Kate had me come look for you.”

Alfie seemed to snap out of his thoughts. “Oh, congratulations, mate.” He hadn’t really heard what Tommy had said to him. “Kate’s very happy. Y’know, before all this she’d come into me office. I figured it was because she was doing her fucking job but then she’d start lamenting to me about you. Like I were her gossip buddy.” He snorted and shook his head. “She wanted nothing more than to have you but didn’t think she deserved it. Of course, you and I both know it’s the opposite way around, innit?��

Tommy shrugged.

“I don’t deserve Mabel. Not in a million years. Not even if God himself came down and told me we were meant to be.”

“I thought you two were hitting it off. That’s what Kate said.”

“I ain’t never been so happy.”

Tommy raised an eye at him. “Then what’s the problem, Alfie?”

The man beside him took a heavy deep breath. “I’m dying, Tom. I told Kate at the boxing match. I’ve got skin cancer and it’ll kill me in a couple of years if I’m lucky. That’s why I want you to kill me.”

After two blows, Tommy was a bit speechless. Alfie was dying and he wanted him to kill him. In what world were they living? This certainly wasn’t the man who had threatened to shoot Tommy on many occasions.

“I’m not going to kill you, Alfie.”

“Oh, c’mon you know you’ve wanted to fucking put a bullet through me head ever since we met. I ain’t blind. Now I’m giving you the option and you turn it down like a scared little boy?” Alfie wasn’t angry. When he was angry, everyone around him knew. No, this was fear. Fear coming from a man who claimed to be fearless.

“What would that do to Mabel? Aye? And d’you think Kate would ever speak to me if I did?” Tommy questioned harshly. “You’ve got another part of life to appreciate, try not to skip out on it.”

“Yeah, how much you think I’m gonna enjoy that while I’m rotting away?” Alfie demanded. “While Mabel watches?”

Tommy shook his head. The logic wasn’t lost on him. How many nights had he been wide awake wondering how long he had to suffer? How much longer would he tolerate the pain and weight of the world? How many times had someone held a gun to his head? How many times was he completely at peace with the cold metal of a gun pressed against his skin? How many times had he waited patiently for that click and then….nothing.

“I’m not killing you.” He said again. Because if Tommy had given in, he wouldn’t be sitting there. Married and about to be a father. “We’ll get the best doctors in London to help.”

“Oh, right. So now you’re my saving grace?” Alfie rolled his eyes. “Fucking ridiculous. I don’t want some fucking doctor drugging me up. I ain’t gonna roam around life high like you lot.”

“I know you don’t think you deserve Mabel. Maybe you don’t. Maybe I don’t deserve Kate. But look at us, aye? They’re still here with us. You fucking need God to come down and explain that to you?”

Alfie grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. “I knew you’d be no fucking help.”

“Take it up with Kate. See how she reacts and then you’ll realize how much easier I was on you.” Tommy replied and lit up a cigarette. “She’d go ballistic.”

The two men sat out in the breezy spring night. Past the gravel drive was nothing but dark countryside with the sounds of nocturnal life.

“I saw the ring Mabel was wearing.” Even at his own wedding reception, Tommy was perceptive. He could never turn it off even if he wanted.

Alfie merely muttered something incoherent under his breath.

“So, I invite you to my wedding but I’m not given the same courtesy.”

“It were a gift.” He grumbled crankily. "Can't I buy jewelry for her without people getting their knickers in a twist?"

Tommy tapped the ash off his cigarette to the step beside him. “So, no plans then?”

“Her mum threw a fit when she found out. Even in retirement, I’m still the devil of Camden. No one wants their women near me. Her mum hated that we were friends when we were kids. Guess she thought she was in clear, that I wouldn't ever go near Mabel again.” He let out a humorless laugh. "Guess she were wrong and now I'm corrupting her thirty-four-year-old daughter. S'fucking ridiculous."

“Since when have you cared what anyone else thinks?”

“I don't. But Mabel's getting an earful every night. Ain't fair to her." Alfie shrugged. “Just know there won’t be no blessings coming my way, that’s for sure.”

“Except for Kate.”

He laughed. “It’s tough to disappoint her, innit?”

“I think she’d be disappointed if I killed you especially if she found out you asked me to do it.”

“There’s just no pleasing some people.” Alfie shook his head.

“Come on.” Tommy stood up. “Don’t want Kate thinking you’ve skipped off without saying goodbye to her.”

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levisnackajack · 3 years

Text

The Wrath of War

Hi there. Thanks to anyone who’s read up to now. This chapter is pretty long, so I have decided to post the story both here on my Tumblr, as well as on AO3.

The link to the story is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28919136/chapters/70952145

Please check it out if you can!

Much love.

Chapter Four

Captain Levi Ackerman.

This was the title owned by the man who had swooped in and saved Eden’s life like a damsel in distress. She felt sick to her stomach. How stupid was she to risk her life like that?

Questions like that rolled through her mind, painfully wrecking her brain for the past couple of hours. The battleground had quietened; but Eren was ripped out of Mikasa’s arms as soon as the Scout and Garrison regiment both got their hands on him.

Armin managed to grab Mikasa by the wrist as they led Eren away; but Eden was quick enough to avoid Armin and sprint after him; eyes lit with a fierce flame. Someone grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around violently- making Eden lose sight of her weakened friend.

She huffed irritably; hazel eyes widening at the realization that Captain Levi had gripped her tightly. His expression blank, intimidating dull grey eyes staring down at the girl in an irritated way. Eden bit on her tongue to suppress the snarky remark resting in her mouth.

“You seem to like proving how big of a pain you are, Cadet,” Levi began, his cool and monotonous voice causing realization to boil within the girl. The man standing before her was the leader of the Survey Corps’ Special Operation Squad. His reputation has gifted him with the title of being “Humanity’s Strongest Soldier”.

Being so close to him, Eden could barely figure out how old he was. He had a deceptively youthful face holding a chiseled jawline and narrow, grey eyes with dark circles under them that betrayed his possible insomnia.

After all the things he has probably seen; how could he be able to sleep soundly at night?

“Sir, I’m only making sure that Eren is safe,” Eden said in a meek voice, mentally slamming her head against the wall. She didn’t want the frightening captain to feed off of her uneasiness.

Whether Captain Levi grew satisfied knowing he instilled fear in people with a mere question would truly stay a secret. His physiognomy never betrayed his thoughts.

He tipped his head to the side ever so slightly, clicking his tongue. “Not that I owe you an explanation or anything, but he’s staying with us for the time being. Don’t want him going on a rampage because he couldn’t keep his emotions intact now, do we?”

“It’s not like that...” Eden muttered out, hands balling into fists until her knuckles were painted white. That was when she began deeply regretting her reckless behavior.

The Captain stepped closer, cape flowing rapidly behind him; his now lethal expression barely concealed by the loose raven strands of hair.

He jabbed his finger into Eden’s collarbone; making her swallow a hiss.

“Oh, apologies, I suppose we should all trust you and the miniscule amount of common sense you seem to own by the way you’re backtalking. What is your name, cadet?” He said in an uncomfortably calm manner; eyes never leaving Eden’s pale face.

“Chiasa. Eden Chiasa, sir.” She forced herself to salute him, using that as an opportunity to step back from him. Levi glared at her in annoyance.

“Well, Chiasa, learn some manners before opening that mouth of yours. I’m assuming you’re itching to join the Scout Regiment by the way your eyes sparkled once we took over?” He paused, lips pursing in disgust as though the idea of her yearning for a spot in his Regiment made him nauseous. He stepped forward once more, his words completely throwing her over the edge as she basked in embarrassment, cheeks glowing red.

“Let me tell you something; we’re not looking for idiots who can’t even watch after their own backs. We’re also not looking for brats thinking their filthy attitude will impress their superiors. I suggest you think before you make up your choice about where you truly belong.” With that, Levi turned his back to the freshly-graduated cadet, striding off in the direction Eren was dragged to.

Eden stood there; eyes trained to the ground as she begged herself not to cry. She didn’t mean to offend the Captain; she was just looking out for her friend. She begged for a titan to pop out of nowhere and tear her to shreds. Levi’s first impression of Eden was that she was a snotty brat who couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

Being part of the Scout Regiment was her reason to live. She ached to belong with that Squad. But now, the somber feeling of knowing that she forever fucked up her chances of ever being able to join them made her want to give up entirely.

She viciously chewed on her bottom lip; shrugging Armin’s gentle touch off of her shoulder. He backed up, having witnessed the girl’s conversation with the profound Captain.

"We need to go. Eren will be brought before the military tribunal. They’re deciding his fate...” Armin echoed, Mikasa darkly staring into oblivion beside him. Eden nodded, following her friends; eyes trailing back to the path Levi and Eren took.

Swallowing hard, she stopped in her tracks and went exactly the opposite way of the military courthouse. Eden followed her instincts, assumptions leading her to believe that they would most probably keep Eren underground since they were in fear of him and his powers. She hid in the shadows, her tiny body concealed by the darkness as soldiers passed her, unaware that someone had broken into the temporary prison.

She followed the deep voices, heart sinking with relief when she heard Eren’s distinct- somewhat whiny- voice. Just as she was about to turn and walk into the cell; Captain Levi walked out of the room with a taller man who’s blond hair was slicked and parted to the sides.

Eden held her breath as they continued walking in the opposite direction; talking in hushed, gruff voices.

Once they were out of sight; she slipped into the jail-room and held onto the bars; gently calling Eren’s name. He looked up, eyes widening in horror.

“Eden, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I needed to make sure you’re okay. Have they told you where they’ll be taking you next?” Eren stared back at the determined girl, swallowing thickly as he gave her a tight nod.

She nodded in response, eyes softening at the sight of her friend behind bars. “Whatever happens Eren, just know that we are beside you. I will not let them slaughter you out of fear, okay? Just stay strong, this situation will soon be over and done with...-”

“Who are you?” A deep voice snapped at Eden, causing her to yelp in surprise. She turned to meet the sky-blue eyes of the tall, blond man from before. His thick, bushy brows were knitted together in confusion; a parallel to the lethal death glare the shorter man who stood stoically beside him sent Eden.

She saluted them both formally. “My name is Eden Chiasa. I am a cadet from the 104th Southern Division and I was just making sure Eren was alright, sir!” She spoke in a loud, clear voice that echoed through the jail cell. The taller man looked surprised and Levi cringed, his blank eyes twitching ever so slightly.

“Eden Chiasa, huh? Part of the top ten graduates of the Southern Division, I heard. I’m Commander Erwin Smith, leader of the Scout’s Legion. Who told you to come here?” His eyes were much warmer than Levi’s; although it was probably because the latter man looked an second away from throwing her into the cell with Eren.

“I-...no one. I was on my way to the military courtroom but I decided to follow Captain Levi after knowing that that was the path Eren was led through. I have no excuse for coming here uninvited and I completely understand if you feel like it’s necessary to remove me from the Cadet Corps...” Eden trailed off, ignoring the resentful “tch” that slipped through Levi’s thin lips.

“I see. Are you two close friends then?” Commander Erwin inquired in the most nonchalant tone. It was as though they were acquaintances getting to know each other over a cup of coffee. He walked closer, eyeing Eren who sat looking as uncomfortable as ever.

“We grew up together, sir. Back in Shiganshina.” Eden paused as she watched both men’s stares darkened at the mention of her home. “After the Titans broke through, we vowed to join the Scout Regiment and help claim back what was stolen from humanity. Please understand that Eren is not a monster. If you allow them to execute him; it would be a far greater loss than a win,” Eden trailed off, hands trembling at her sides.

“We have a strategy, Eden. Plans that will be greatly disrupted by Eren’s demise. Though I cannot promise miracles, the Scout Regiment agrees with you,” Erwin remarked as two guards walked into the cell and pulled Eren to his feet. Eden watched as they silently dragged him out.

The Commander stared at the young girl watching her friend exit. He was certainly impressed. Perhaps it was the exhaustion of leading one war after the other that made him more lenient in this instance. He pursed his lips as he raised an arm towards the exit.

“Shall we then?”

Eden shifted uncomfortably as she took a seat beside Captain Levi in the courtroom. Hushed voices and spitting insults were thrown at Eren as they shackled him in the center of the room.

Levi snapped at her once after she accidentally kicked his boot, her blood turning into iced water under his hooded stare. Mumbling a quiet apology, she watched as the Supreme Commander silenced the entire courtroom.

After some time had been wasted on throwing disrespectful and vulgar sneers from one side of the courtroom to the other; Pastor Nick ruthlessly ordered for a gun to be pointed towards the handcuffed Eren. Before Eden could release the breath she had been unknowingly holding in; the Captain beside her had risen from his seat, striding towards the prisoner. Instead of jumping up and defying the merchants and the pastor; Levi’s boot met Eren’s jaw with such shrill force, the crack of his neck echoed through the silenced courtroom.

Eden sat in shock; her whole body petrified as she watched Levi beat Eren to a pulp. He towered over the boy menacingly before kneeing him in the face countless of time.

“In my personal opinion, pain is the greatest tool for discipline,” Captain Levi seethed in an unnervingly composed voice before grabbing Eren by the hair. Eden flinched and Levi’s eyes snapped to the side.

That seemed to provoke him because his fingers flexed in a way where Eden could visibly see his grip grow tighter.

“You’ve fallen so low to the point where it’s easy to kick you around.” He kicked him again and again until Eren choked on his own blood, shaking as he lifted his eyes to meet the Captain’s dead ones.

He slickly conversated with the Military Police and the Pastor; feeling obligated to ensure they know how useless they were. Out of fear, they wanted to dissect Eren and then dispose of him.

Raising a hand, Erwin intervened, proposing that Eren was placed under Captain Levi’s command; kept under constant surveillance until the Scout Regiment could figure out whether he was a pawn worth investing in.

Levi stared at Erwin as he spoke. His bored eyes jumped from the Commander onto Eden and his frown grew deeper as her hot glare hoped he would burn. He scoffed, completely disregarding her as the Supreme Commander voiced his final decision.

Eden shoved through the people seeping out of the courtroom, fuming at everyone and everything. Naturally, she was relieved that her friend would live another day; but to treat him like some experiment was sickening. Yes, she vowed to partake in the restoration of humanity; but to what avail?

The girl nearly missed Commander Erwin’s beckon directed towards her. She turned and walked back, saluting him; completely overlooking the man beside the tall man.

“Albeit being impulsive; I can see you have Scout traits burning inside you. Will you join the Special Operation’s Squad and accompany them on their upcoming mission overseeing Eren?”

Eden’s mouth swiftly parted, eyebrows rising slightly as the breeze ran cool fingers through her short, inky waves of hair. Her eyes dripped with the color of melting honey as they landed on her future Captain; who stared down at her in a detached manner; clicking his tongue and walking back to his horse as soon as Eden’s head began bobbing in affirmation.

She was one step closer to achieving her goal; but one step further from impressing the man in charge of her new Squad team.

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shuatoyou · 4 years

Text

➵ request: a fic based on an angsty quote from insta: “maybe someday we will be two people meeting again for the first time”

➵ genre: angst angst and more angst

➵ a/n: ughh this quote was perfect, i wrote two different scenarios and had to choose between the one that fit best. this one was the winner. i hope you like it thank you for requesting anon <3 (sorry if its so choppy btw ugh)

the skies, the damned skies.

you hated how the night sky reminded you of him, his eyes that always sparkled almost as if it was holding an entire galaxy.

you hated how every empty shelf reminded you of the times where they were once filled to the brim with novels waiting to be read by him.

you hated how he had symbolised nearly everything in your life and it all took you back to him. to that day; that moment. especially now that he was standing in front of you.

the sound of your phone ringing pulled you out of the daze you were in and you rushed to answer without paying any attention to the caller id.

“hello?”

“i’ve been trying to reach you for the last ten minutes y/n” the voice on the other line that belonged to your friend mingyu huffs frustratedly.

“i'm sorry i must have left my phone on silent, what's up?”

“are you coming to the company dinner?” he asks with a nervous tone to his usual cheery voice.

“i have to be there as the team leader, gyu, i told you this.”

“oh you did…”

“is everything okay?” you question as him being forgetful was not likely.

“yeah of course, i’ll see you then. is anyone taking you there?”

“i was just planning on making my own-”

“i’ll pick you up at six then,” he says, interrupting you and hanging up abruptly leaving you puzzled but with a yawn you pick up the work you were previously doing.

mingyu picked you up at six like he said he would, you greeted him getting into the car. the two of you complimented each other's looks, mostly him praising your sense of style for once with a laugh however the rest of the time you guys rode in silence for most of the journey except when he made small conversations about work here and there until you spoke up again.

“you sounded weird earlier, you alright?” you turn towards the driving figure in your seat.

“im fine, why wouldn't i be?” he says equally as weird as earlier so you just dust it off with a shrug knowing you wouldn't be able to get anything out of him. humming along to the music you both zoned out into your own worlds.

from the moment you two arrived, stepping foot into the large venue rented for the dinner mingyu had practically glued himself to your side while you greeted coworkers and partners.

“don't you have your own team to be sticking by right now?” you asked, sighing.

“yeah but i don't want to leave you alone” he shrugged, taking a drink from the table behind you before offering you one which you gladly accepted.

“it's nothing new gyu don't worry just go” you shoo him away and turn around searching the crowd as you sipped on the prestige glass filled with equally as prestige champagne. mingyu was still hovering behind you however less annoyingly so you dismissed it for the time being.

it wasn't long before you met eyes with a new figure that walked in, your heart began racing and your stomach dropped at the sight of him. his hair was cut shorter now, the charcoal colour of it stood out to you and of course he was wearing the glasses you stole from him countless times. your eyes stayed focused on him watching as he greeted some people, mingyu followed your gaze to finally notice him too, his eyes widening as he immediately steps in front of you averting your attention to himself.

for a moment you’re stood there trying to figure out whether your mind was playing tricks on you but mingyu's actions confirmed enough

“what are you doing?” you question raising your eyebrow.

“i'm sorry i didn't want you to find out like this y/n”

“you knew?”

he nodded at your question.

“is this why you were acting weird all day?”

another question answered with a mere nod, you understood now.

“it's not that big of a deal anyways, i'm fine” you smile reassuringly patting his arm signalling for him to move since he stood in a protective manner, as if you were fragile. with an apologetic look he nods once again, moving away.

wonwoo being there was a surprise to you, especially when it had been so long since you last saw the boy. your mind raced with thoughts and questions that you did your best to shake away.

eyeing the boxes spread onto the floors, you walked onto the balcony where he was standing looking over at the stunning view you had both bragged about countlessly for the past few years.

your first instinct was to question why the books were off the shelves and in boxes but he beat you to it as he spoke up.

“i have to go y/n” he told you, not sparing you a single glance.

“what?”

“i got the promotion.” he stated nonchalantly although his eyes were watering making you even more anxious.

“why would you only tell me this now?” you did your best to keep your voice at a steady tone, but you knew wonwoo knew you like no other, probably better than yourself in fact.

“i didn't know how to bring it up, '' he sighs, finally turning to look at you and sitting beside you on the balcony you two had walked onto for air earlier where wonwoo finally decided to bring up the topic.

“a simple, ‘hey i’ve been given a promotion to work overseas’ would’ve done the job wonwoo” you laugh bitterly looking down at your feet.

“i'm sorry”

“when do you leave?” you whispered not trusting your voice anymore.

“next week…” you look up to meet his eyes that were softly looking at you, still as sparkly as ever and still manage to captivate you in them.

“is this goodbye then?”

“i think so.” he moved slightly to the side getting closer to you, pulling you into a side hug and you don't even fight against it, allowing your figure to be taken into the arms you knew you would miss. the two of you release the tears that were fighting to break free. you felt the circles he rubbed onto the side of your arm, something he always did to comfort you.

he kept his arms around you tightly as you began to withdraw yours from him.

“i can't even find it in me to be angry at you, i really should be but i just can't, woo” your voice comes out shaky, it was like you were disappointed at your feelings.

“this isn't the end y/n” he did his best trying to reassure you.

“it wouldn't have been this hard if you spoke to me… we could have figured something out.” you snapped, feeling a slight anger rush to your head. you were truly upset

“figure what out? would you come with me?” he asked frustratedly.

his question was met with silence, in fact the only sound in the atmosphere was the swaying of the trees and leaves fighting each other on the grounds

“do you think maybe someday we’ll be two people meeting again for the first time?” you mumble.

“yes and i promise that.”

“maybe this is best for us, maybe we need to go our own ways for now and meet when it's time again.”

“until then, i’ll only be one call away,” he vowed.

but the calls never happened, the texts got less frequent and soon he was just a mere memory left in your past.

his eyes were now looking back at you, holding your gaze. he took a few steps to get closer and see if it really was you making your heart practically jump. you broke eye contact first turning back around to your friend. wonwoo couldnt peel his eyes off of you especially when it had been so long. you had changed alot and it pained him to know he wasn't there for some of your biggest changes although mingyu made sure to notify everyone through his social media during the years which turned out to be beneficial to him more or less.

now you were right in front of him, looking as beautiful as ever. all the memories rushing back but all you could wish for in that moment is for him to have broken the promise.

“he’s looking at you y/n”

“and? i have to go find my boss.”

“now? wait let me come with y-” you stop him putting a hand up.

“i'll see you in a bit, mingyu.” with that you turned around on your heels despite the objections from the boy himself, making your way to the other side of the venue content on finding your boss until someone stopped in front of you bringing you to a halt, your hands immediately lifted up to steady yourself on the strangers chest.

“steady there”

the familiar deep voice made you jump, quickly removing your hands off him and dusting off your dress.

“still as clumsy as ever?” he chuckled.

“oh.. no you got in my way?” you stated kind of like a question. you knew mingyu was watching this interaction from somewhere so you silently hoped he would save you.

“sorry about that i guess” he was awkward, his hand at the nape of his neck trying to lock gazes with you but that was your stubbornness not wanting to look him in the eye.

“do you mind if we talk for a minute?” he finally spoke up again after the moment of silence.

you hesitated looking back to where mingyu was standing, he was begging you with his eyes to say yes. so you nodded. there was no harm in talking to him again right?

wonwoo seemed shocked at you accepting to talk so it took him a second to compose himself,

“oh? okay great.” he stumbled on his words and almost his feet as he led the way to the bench outdoors.

the two of you took a moment to breathe the fresh air and you wrapped your shawl around you tighter in attempts of keeping warm from the fierce cold. he took notice of this. you always got cold easily anyways.

“maybe it wasn't a good idea talking outside in the cold.”

“what do you want to talk about wonwoo?” you ask, making him turn around to you before sitting right beside you on the bench.

“i'm sorry.” he said, voice shaky and deeper than ever. you weren't sure whether the goosebumps on your skin was from the cold or his voice.

you hum in response. “for what?”

“for leaving back then.”

your figure straightens at the words falling out of his mouth.

“is that it?” you say coldly.

“no, but i don't know how to get into the rest of it.” he admits avoiding your gaze like you were doing to him.

“please don't.” you plead with a whisper standing up and facing his sat figure. “i’ve moved on wonwoo everything's different now, i don't need an apology. we did this years ago we got over this. you have nothing to be sorry for.” you vent.

“y/n…” he stands up taking a step closer to you.

“it's fine. it really is.” you assure him as much as you honestly could.

“you were the one who asked if one day we would be two people meeting again for the first time.” he quotes from the past.

“and we have, we met again wonwoo but that's it. im sorry.” you softly smile turning to walk back inside.

he didn't try to stop you because you weren't wrong, you two had met now and that's all there was to it. wonwoo left and took a piece of you with him but perhaps it wasnt enough for the both of you to return to the happy times, at least not together.

you guys met again, as two different people with two separate lives.

he inhales the cold air around him looking up to the night sky, the stars that were always filled with light had now dulled in his world and yours was only just beginning to brighten again.

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coffeecomicsgalore · 3 years

Text

Never in Haste

Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng surpassed the Queen's assessment during her debut with praise. The soiree was underway and the young debutante could only hope that she would meet a suitor who could one day court her and marry her now that she has come of age. What should have been a magical evening turned into one of confusion when a cold-hearted Duke with green eyes and blonde hair collided with her in his haste to leave the ballroom. But as Marinette confidently gazed into his verdant stare after a brash comment, would his vow against his father hold true? Or will this Lady in Scarlet save his icy heart?

Ao3

Chapter 1

“Darling.” The older woman stated as she placed the diamond necklace over her daughter’s delicate collarbone. She slowly brushed the raven curls over Marinette’s right shoulder, giving Sabine ample space to clasp the lock at the nape of her daughter’s neck. “I promise you. You look absolutely stunning.”

Marinette stared at herself in the vanity mirror, her fingers ghosting against the divots and prongs on the intricate piece. The gown she wore was one of her own creations, a gorgeous piece that helped her feel more comfortable in her own skin. It was the one request that Marinette had negotiated with her mother, and Sabine smiled as she allowed her daughter this one reprieve before her first debut.

The seventeen-year-old was quick with a needle. Marinette created a scarlet satin gown adorned with a layer of black lace from the corset top until the hem. The delicate lace had just the right amount of detail, with spots and rose designs built throughout. Her capped sleeves were simple and hung lightly over her shoulders, the remaining area on her arms covered with long black gloves. She wore black stockings with satin scarlet kitten heels, and most of her hair was brought up into a curled bun with a small diamond tiara adorned on the top of her head. A small sliver of her long locks was left remaining, pinned behind her right ear and allowing it to fall perfectly over her right shoulder.

She bit her bottom lip slightly as she felt the pangs of nerves itching to be released in a panic. Yet due to the misfortune of being the youngest daughter of a Viscount, panic and ill-regret were never to be displayed in front of anyone besides herself in the confines of her bedroom.

“Maman.” Marinette called out almost quietly, afraid that her voice would break if she spoke too loudly.

Running her hand over her daughter’s shoulder and down her arm until she reached her hand as a way to soothe, Sabine grasped onto Marinette’s hand tightly to give her daughter reassurance. She sat down on the small bench in front of the vanity, bringing her daughter to sit down with her before leaning in to speak in a hushed tone.

“My darling daughter. Do not worry your pretty little mind. I understand that this is a big moment in your young life; coming out into the world to be sought after in marriage. It’s… overwhelming. But you are amazing and kind and you will find someone that will love you for you.”

Marinette looked down and focused her attention to her mother’s hands. She could feel the encouragement and love pouring through her grasp.

“All I asked in my young life is to have a marriage like you and papa’s.” Marinette quietly stated. “I hope that whomever that man may be, will have the same values, hopes, and dreams as I.”

“And you will. Tonight is one of many. This season is your first, so do not forget that there is an abundance of men to prod after.” Sabine winked, hoping to help her daughter release the tension in her shoulders. “Bridgette felt the same as you before her own debut. I hope you remember how she had handled it a few years prior.” Marinette shook her head, and her maman reiterated the feelings in hopes to guide her daughter to feel the same. “With value, grace, and poise.”

Countess Bridgette Graham de Vanily is the eldest child of Viscount Dupain and Viscountess Cheng. In her first season of courting, Bridgette caught the eye of the eldest son of the late Earl of the Graham de Vanily household, denying four marriage proposals in hopes that Viscount Felix Graham de Vanily would request her hand in marriage. After Felix had caught wind of one royal proposal that had yet to be answered by Bridgette, he finally removed his prideful head out of his royal behind, coming to terms with the budding love within his heart for the debutante. A plead to the Viscount to court her led to a whirlwind romance, with a proposal and a wedding shortly before the summer ended.

“Felix was certainly a catch, maman.” Marinette snickered, causing Sabine to giggle quietly beside her. “Sister was sure to find the perfect match one way or another. Her confidence exudes her. Headstrong too. It’s what Felix loves about her.”

“That he does. So much so that they now have two children with another on the way.”

“I only hope to find someone as loving as he is to Bridgette as papa is to you.”

“As I said. You will.” Sabine tapped on the tip of Marinette’s nose with the pad of her index finger before a knock on the door halted their conversation. Sabine squeezed her daughter’s hands once more before standing tall with confidence towards the door.

“Come in.” Marinette called out to her lady’s maid, prompting the young woman to walk in.

“Miss. Madam.” Rose lightly bowed before speaking again. “The carriage is here. The viscount is waiting for your presence in the foyer.”

“Right. Thank you, Rose.” Sabine stated before gazing back towards her daughter. “Come now. We mustn’t keep your father waiting.”

Smiling once more in the mirror before standing, Marinette let out one last breath before stepping out of her room for the evening.

********************************

“Nope. Never.” The green-eyed, blonde-haired Duke of the Noir Estate stated in exasperation at his best friend. He sat at his desk, brandy in hand as he took in one last swig before the glass would be taken from him. “It will not happen.”

Lord Nino Lahiffe, The Marquess of Shelldon, pursed his lips as he removed the glass from Adrien’s hands, removing the bottle along with it. Adrien sneered in distaste.

“And you, my good sir, shall listen to how you speak. Discouraging the act of finding your Duchess. How else will you bear children?”

“And as I have said more times than I can count: I refuse to be part of a ploy my father likes to hang over my head. I shall not live under my father’s shadow and I shall not find a Duchess so long as he is alive.”

“But, Adrien. Listen to yourself. You are choosing your father’s rule over your own happiness. Is that how you want to live the remainder of your days? Alone without a love or family to call your own?”

“Of course not! But why should I even consider this fabricated idea? So that my father can force me to carry on the Agreste legacy with the woman of his choosing? It will not happen. He has ruled over my entire life with me directly under his thumb and I have yet to set foot outside of the circle he has barred me in. If I am to have a wife, it is with someone that I will love with all my being, someone that has similar values and loves like I. It will not be with someone only to bear children with and live the rest of our days in separate sections of our home like my maman and he had done until her untimely death. I refuse to believe that I can only be with a noble in our rank and that I cannot ‘dwindle in the affairs of those below me’. For that I choose to remain alone without love in this unfortunate lifetime.”

Nino shook his head before turning towards the window in the large office. The grounds were filled with gorgeous, blooming florals, the warm spring air filling the vast space with the wonderful scent of renewal. The golden rays of the sunshine were dwindling into the deep purples and blues of the night time sky, leading the sparkle of stars and the crescent moon to the entrance of the grand, blank canvas. The sounds of the birds chirping away was one of the only two sounds to hold presence in the space, the other being the scratches of the quill against the cardstock as the Duke wrote his orders. After a few moments in relative silence, Nino spoke again earnestly.

“Then, may I ask—as your dear friend—that you accompany me tonight so that I can find a bride of my own?”

Adrien paused his quill at the request, the thought rolling around in his mind as he slowly looked to his friend’s pleading face.

“As long as you do not push me away from the wine and brandy, I will accompany you and keep an eye on your gentlemanly ways.”

“That’s all I ask.” Nino’s lip curled slightly as he silently celebrated this small victory. “Let’s make haste. We shall not be late to the soiree.”

Adrien rolled his eyes at his lifelong friend, before turning and walking towards his bedroom to ready himself for the night.

********************************

“Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng, accompanied by her mother, the Honorable Viscountess Cheng of Coccinella Manor.”

As soon as the words slipped passed the lips of the Queen’s court Herald, Marinette walked through the large, ornate doors until she entered into the ballroom, walking down the aisle both silently and slowly as her mother followed closely behind her. The bluenette focused her attention on the Queen and her court, fear coursing through her veins as she hoped to keep her position and poise until the moment had passed.

Her heartbeat quickened as the heavy roar of anxiousness filled her ears. She could barely hear the muffled conversations between the other guests, and the music all but muted as she trekked closer and closer to the end.

This was the moment that would determine her eligibility. The Queen held all the cards, confirming or denying whether she would be desirable to the gentlemen amongst the sea of eligible ladies. The fate of her future rested in this moment, and she could not allow herself to fall lest she chooses to remain a spinster for the rest of her days.

Swallowing her fear as best she could, Marinette stood in front of the Queen and curtsied with proper authority, awaiting for the Queen to make her prediction or to dismiss her into the soiree without another word.

“Child.” The Queen stated with authority and waited until Marinette straightened her back and force her gaze into the royal’s eyes. “Turn.”

Marinette bowed her head as she accepted her order, turning ever so slowly as the Queen eyed her form. Once Marinette stood facing the Queen once again, she waited until she made her assessment, her breath all but left her body as she waited for the final word.

“Favorable… Indeed.” She said with contemplation; her court agreeing with both nods and mutters. “Exquisite gown. I, for one, enjoy fashion in every sense of the word. Compliment the seamstress for this exceptional gown.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the Queen’s words, a brief moment of panic before she remembered her place. She bowed her head with a slight curtsy of appreciation before responding in politeness. “Thank you, your Majesty. I will relay the compliments.”

The Queen nodded, waving her hand to dismiss the Viscountess and her daughter.

Marinette and her mother turned to the right, walking again with poise and grace as she walked into the waiting area near the entrance of where the soiree was being held. Her focus remained on her footsteps, her expression frozen in a confident gaze as she made her way to the area where her father, Bridgette, and Felix were waiting on word of the Queen’s decision.

The highest royal’s words echoed in Marinette’s mind as she continued to walk aimlessly through the area. The faces of the attendees were a mere fog in her mind, nothing quite registering no matter how hard she tried to situate her acquaintances and friendships in her nervousness. Neither were the mutterings of the crowds, nor the splendid music as it played in the background.

Only the touch of her mother’s hand brought her back into the space before her, the smile on her father’s face grounding her as the fear of the moment finally melting away.

“My darling daughter,” Tom cooed as he held her hand. “Please, announce the news. What did the Queen state?”

“She—” Marinette hesitated for a moment, not in fear, but due to the shock as the words rang in her mind once again. “I’m favorable, papa. And she complimented my gown. Her Majesty, complimented my gown.” She whispered by the end, afraid for those around her to hear that she created her own gown when her family should have afforded the luxury of commissioning a gown for the season.

Bridgette grabbed Marinette’s hands, squeezing her palms tightly as the excitement rang through her body.

“Sister! You will find your suitor yet. I’m so proud of you, love. So proud.”

Felix bowed his head slightly, showcasing his acceptance and joy over the occasion. “Amazing, Marinette. And the gown is absolutely stunning.”

Marinette finally released the breath she was holding, her lips curling slightly as she took in his compliment. “Thank you, Felix. You’re too kind.”

Felix smiled as held out his arms, one for each of the sisters. “Come now. The suitors will be waiting for your entrance. Your father has given me permission to watch over you. I hope this is to your liking?”

“I couldn’t think of anyone better,” she turned to her papa, lifting her hand to grasp his. “Besides my papa, of course.” The five members of the Dupain-Cheng and Graham de Vanily family chuckled at her words before Marinette turned to Felix to hold onto the crook of his elbow. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

********************************

Adrien stood beside the large pillar at the edge of the large ballroom. He held his poise, his lips pursed into a tight thin line as he waited for a servant to pass by him with a tray of wine for him to collect. His eyes wandered around the room in search of his friend, yet Nino was no where to be found.

Grunting out a growl of irritation, Adrien made his way across the floor, searching for the quickest path to the outside gardens. The looks of want and desire could be seen on the faces of the many debutantes awaiting a dance with a distinguishable suitor, yet he could see the wandering eyes of some who understood that the value of a Duke was much more worthwhile than the looks of Marquess, Earl, or Viscount.

Instead of focusing on the naïve thoughts of the attendees, Adrien chose to focus on his freedom, rushing towards the exit instead of being aware of his surroundings. He did not notice a certain debutante turning away quickly from the loose grasp of her escort, nor the way her smile lit up a room as she laughed in response to her escort’s conversation. But once the petite frame crashed against him as he turned to the right, he held his ground, instinctively grasping onto the debutante’s arms in order to steady her from an embarrassing fall. The accidental collision irritated him further, a deep frown etching his expression as she profusely apologized for her incompetence.

“Enough.” He stated, tersely, and he could see the woman physically flinch as she continued to look towards the ground. The guilt for his harsh response seeped into his soul, but he refused to state anything to resolve the situation. He would not allow the woman a bit of kindness as an aid to his decision of remaining single in vengeance against his father.

After a few silent seconds, the woman finally looked up, her blazing blue eyes gazing into his verdant stare, the entire world shifting the moment her pink lips parted slightly and a small gasp left her lips.

It was in that moment that Adrien realized that keeping his vow may be difficult to achieve.

#miraculous ladybug fanfiction #based on The Bridgetons #adrienette #enemies to lovers #Victorian Era AU #No Miraculous AU

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sad-sweet-cowboah · 4 years

Text

My Little Secret part 9

Summary: Your next date with Arthur takes an unexpected turn when Sam invites the both of you to Saint Denis for the night.

Warnings: Alcohol mention

Friday evening arrived before you knew it. You powered through your schoolwork and got a few hours’ worth of studying in. It was early evening before you turned your attention elsewhere, nighttime would be soon and that Arthur would be arriving shortly afterward. You weren’t sure if it was to be a date or just…hanging out, you supposed it could be both. You debated on whether to dress up or keep yourself as is.

You also didn’t want to bore Arthur by just asking him a bunch of questions all night. You had a decent DVD collection and a few more movies on demand, and wondered what kind of genres he was into, if he were into movies at all. It was a different setting; normally you reserved dates at home for later into the relationship. Then again, you weren’t in a normal relationship.

Not much more time passed when you heard the ring of your doorbell, and you pranced forward in excitement to answer. You opened the door to find Arthur was standing there patiently, greeting you with a smile.

He was wearing a dark red button-up shirt, though some of the top buttons were left open to give you a nice view of his chest with just the right amount of hair peeking through. The sleeves were rolled up, and his hands rested on the belt that held up his dark jeans. Jesus did he look good.

“How do you manage that?” was the first thing that left your mouth.

He tilted his head in curiosity. “What?”

“Look so damn fine,” you answered, reaching out to selfishly run your hands on his chest without second thought. He felt solid beneath your fingertips. “Like some sorta model.”

He chuckled in response, his own hands reaching for yours to hold them and entwine his fingers with you. Stepping closer to you, he drew you in for a gentle kiss. Had it lasted longer than a few seconds, you would have melted right then and there. “Could say the same about you, ya know.” He murmured.

You glanced down at yourself. You wore a pair of form-fitting yoga pants hugged your legs and a loose fitting t-shirt that had the school’s logo printed across it. Your hair had been pulled into a loose bun. It occurred to you just then and there you definitely should have changed into something much more decent. “You like this look?” you asked him.

“I like you,” he answered sincerely. “Don’t matter what you’re wearin’, sweetheart.”

Heat of a blush flared in your cheeks as you smiled bashfully, and you tugged him in past the threshold. “Then tell me more how pretty I am inside.”

He laughed in response, keeping in step with you as he entered your apartment. You released his hands and glanced behind you toward the couch. “So, you wanna watch something?” you ask.

“I thought you wanted to ask more questions.” He pointed out.

“I do, but I don’t want that to be the basis of our whole relationship, ya know? We might as well try some other things, like a regular couple would.” You explained. “And then I’ll ask after.”

“Fair ‘nough,” he said with a nod. “Sure, I’d love to watch somethin’.”

You smile and gestured toward the couch, to which he sat down on while you moved over to your shelf of DVDs. You picked out something easy: a simple action movie that didn’t involve too much blood or gore. Could a vampire be sickened by that sort of thing? Or perhaps it would remind him of a time of his outlaw days. Either way, you were testing the waters. Plucking it from between the other cases, you straightened back up and faced him. “How often do you watch movies, Arthur?”

He shrugged. “As much as any other person. I’ve seen that movie before, nice choice.” He approved.

You let out a mental sigh of relief and moved over to the TV to place the disk in before you sat on the couch. Just as the movie started, your phone rang. Sighing heavily and apologizing to Arthur, you pull out your phone and glanced at the screen. You hit the answer button. “What is it, Sam?” you ask, keeping your voice as light as possible.

“Hey girl, wanna head to Saint Denis tonight?” Sam greeted off the bat. “I’m bored as hell and everyone else is busy.”

“Sam, I’m with Arthur at the moment.” You answer.

“So bring him along! I wanna get to know the guy dating my best friend.”

“I don’t think he –”

“Ask him,” Sam interjected. “C’mon, just try. I can pick you guys up and we’ll do whatever.”

You sighed again and turned your attention to Arthur. “Sam wants us to go to Saint Denis with her, you wanna go?” you ask, although already knowing he’d refuse, remembering what he said to you when you ran into him last time in the city.

“Saint Denis?” he repeated, rubbing his chin in thought. “I ‘spose it’ll be okay for a bit.”

You blinked in surprise, taken completely off guard by his response. “You sure?” you mouthed to him, and when he flashed you a small smile, you answered Sam. “Alright, I guess we’re going.”

“Awesome, I’ll come by in a half hour.” Sam bid you a goodbye before hanging up.

You placed your phone down, and gave Arthur a look of curiosity. “I thought you didn’t like Saint Denis.”

Arthur shrugged again. “She said she wanted to get to know the guy who’s dating her best friend, might as well.”

“Yeah but I just wanted a night in.” you murmured, standing to your feet. You definitely had to get dressed now.

“You coulda said no.” Arthur reminded you, his voice rumbling with a laugh.

“I know I could have, but Sam’s too damn persistent. If I don’t do it tonight then she’ll keep pestering me to bring you around sooner or later,” You explained while you rolled your eyes. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, Y/N. We’ll still have many more nights ya know.” he flashed you a smile.

Your smile mirrored his. “True, let me go get dressed. You hang tight.”

You opted to change into a low-cut shirt and a pair of skinny jeans that had metallic studs running up the sides of your legs. Taking your hair out of the bun you put into a high ponytail, and completed the look with a denim jacket and a pair of high-heel ankle boots. You didn’t feel like dolling completely up, but at least it was something to make you feel a little sexier in front of Arthur.

You stepped back out into the living room, catching his attention. He peered you up and down with a gleam in his eye that you caught easily.

“You…” he averted his gaze shyly before clearing his throat and turning his attention back to you. “Sorry, you look amazin’.”

You giggled, stepping closer to him. “Thought I might as well give you something prettier to look at.” You said.

“Darlin’, you could be wearin’ a potato sack and I still think you’re the prettiest woman in the room,” He spoke. “Not that I’m complainin’.”

With a few minutes of downtime you gave Arthur a baseline of what to expect from Sam. She’s been your best friend since your undergrad days and always loved to learn more about the guys you dated. Even if it seemed overwhelming, she was always good at sniffing out those who were worth more time than others.

A little more time passed before Sam texted to inform you she was outside. Together you and Arthur made your way out of the apartment complex, stepping out into the humidity to see the large SUV idling at the curbside with Sam leaning against it, waiting expectantly.

She was as enthusiastic as ever, greeting Arthur excitedly before ushering you into the car. Arthur offered to take the back seat while you took the front passenger seat. Sam pulled away from the curb and you were on your way.

The first few minutes were full of Sam’s chatter, getting to know Arthur more herself. She asked him easy questions before moving on to inquiring about how he was treating you. You interrupted then to assure her he was treating you just fine. She however insisted Arthur answer the question, only satisfied when his answered mirrored yours.

“Sorry Arthur, grilling people is a specialty of hers.” You mentioned, which only prompted Sam to laugh.

“Only when my best friend breaks her own vow to not date while still in school. You must be one hell of a guy,” She joked. “You’re cool, though. I’ll back off.”

“Appreciate it,” Arthur chuckled. “Uh, mind if I ask ya somethin’?”

“Sure,” Sam answered. “If you’re wondering how hard a partier she is, I’ll tell you that –”

“Sam.” You warned.

“Nah, nothin’ like that,” Arthur continued, resting his hand on your arm. “It’s ‘bout you, Sam. Is your last name Marston, by any chance?”

Sam glanced back at him. “Holloway. But my mother’s maiden name is Marston, why?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a small smile cross Arthur’s lips. “Think I might’ve met your family at some point. You jus’ remind me o’ them.”

“Really? Most of my family are in the Blackwater area, you’ve been?” Sam responded.

“Plenty o’ times.” He confirmed.

You turned your head to look at Arthur fully, only he leaned back into his seat. You wondered if he really did know her family, though you suppose it could be possible.

The rest of the ride consisted of you and Sam talking or jamming out to music on the radio. Arthur was mostly quiet, and you attempted to bring him into the conversation a few times. You didn’t want to intentionally leave him out. He didn’t speak too much, although the look on his face told you he was just fine where he was. His immortal age aside, he was still a 36 year old man in the company of 27 year olds. He was more than likely allowing you two to chatter amongst yourselves about your own interests.

That however didn’t stop you from reaching over and taking his hand in yours. He smoothed his thumb over your skin rhythmically the entire time.

Soon the dark sky broke to the amber lights of Saint Denis. The city was bustling as usual, multiple people out and about enjoying the night.

“So, any ideas for our entertainment tonight?” Sam asked.

You hummed in thought, considering what would be enjoyable for the three of you. Since Arthur couldn’t eat nor drink, your usual suggestions flew out the window.

“How ‘bout I treat ya both to dinner?” Arthur suddenly spoke up.

You blinked in surprise, turning to look at him.

“Both of us?” Sam questioned. “That’s not necessary.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to do that.” You agreed.

Arthur shrugged. “Repayment for drivin’ us. It ain’t exactly a short trip.”

A smile crossed Sam’s lips. “Y/N’s right, you really are a gentleman.”

Arthur chuckled in response. “No reason not to be.”

Twenty minutes later found yourself in one of the less populated diners of the city. Both you and Sam were enjoying delicious meals while Arthur sat with you. Sam had asked why he didn’t order anything himself, and he answered with the same lie he told you on your first date: food intolerances. She didn’t question it further, instead brought the conversation elsewhere. He was more talkative then.

When your food was finished, the three of you stepped back outside. The night was still fairly young and alive, prompting you to ponder what else you could do.

“So what’s next?” Sam spoke out, voicing your thoughts. “How about our favorite bar?”

You opened your mouth to answer, only to have Arthur speak over you.

“You two can go on ahead, I’ll join ya in a bit.”

You gave him a look of confusion, catching his eye to notice an emotion you couldn’t detect. “Where are you going?”

“Jus’ gotta take care o’ somethin’. I’ll meet ya there.” He answered, stepping forward to plant a quick kiss on your forehead. While his lips were pressed against your skin, his voice dropped to a low mumble. “Be careful, alright? Remember what I said ‘bout… others.”

As he retreated giving you a subtle but pointed look, it only then occurred to you what he meant. You remembered what he told you about “other” vampires, ones that drained their victim’s blood without second thought. Somehow you’d forgotten about what happened here in this same city. But by the amount of people that still roamed the streets, it was clear the concern over it was pushed to the wayside.

It then led you to your next thought: what was Arthur doing? Perhaps he needed some blood himself, and you reminded yourself that he only went after bad people. At least so he said.

Your thought was cut short when Sam tugged on your arm. She pulled you toward the direction of the bar, which was only a few blocks away.

The place was as busy as you expected to be, the air conditioned building stuffy with the amount of bodies. You procured a drink and kept off to the side, swaying your hips to the music that played overhead. Time wore on and your vision slowly grew more unfocused with the influence of liquor. A half hour had passed and Arthur hadn’t returned, this solidifying your suspicion from earlier. He most likely was looking for a blood meal, hopefully tracking down some fool with less than pure thoughts for that night.

Unless something else happened.

You shook your head and mentally scolded yourself. Arthur was more than capable of handling himself. After witnessing him crush Tom’s hand with little effort in protecting you, and the fact that he was once a gunslinging outlaw.

You smiled to yourself. That little reminder of you dating a once-famous outlaw still sent your heart into a tizzy. How many others would be able to say that? Hell, how many others could say they’re dating a vampire?

Sobriety soon began to slip through your fingers with even more time passed. You moved through the bar, observing others and occasionally holding a small conversation with Sam or a stranger. With more people filing in every once in a while, the air is was beginning to grow stuffy. Another drink down and you stepped outside. Not that the weather was much different, it provided you with a little space. There were a few others standing around, smoking cigarettes or just chatting. You craned your neck to see if Arthur was among these faces, and sighed in disappointment. Did it really take that long just to acquire a blood meal?

You shuddered with that thought. It certainly wasn’t a normal thought to cross your mind. You instead shifted your focus elsewhere. Your eyes slowly drifted back and forth between others; young couples out and about, not a care in the world with their faces bright and cheerful.

Your attention was soon broken when someone had stumbled in front of you. Stepping back in time to avoid being trampled on, you blinked and watched an obviously drunk man clamor his way down the sidewalk. You grimaced as he smacked his hand onto a light pole, but he paid no mind as he turned down an alleyway next to the bar.

Somehow this concerned you. He was clearly too inebriated to really walk straight, and you wondered if he knew what direction he was going in. You also wondered if he was alone or possibly had friends. Either way, you didn’t want him to accidentally injure himself or get lost.

You scurried toward the alley. The sound of metal trashcans slamming to the ground told you he was thankfully still there. His drunken yelp was to follow. He certainly felt that more than the pole, somehow.

You rounded the corner to face the alleyway. The cans were on their sides with bits of trash strewn about. The poor fool kept stumbling haphazardly further in, and you quickened your pace.

“Hey, stop!” you called after him, but he either ignored you or just didn’t hear. Up ahead he turned and disappeared again. You grumbled and started to jog, or as much as your shoes would allow. “Sir, hang on!”

You rounded another corner he disappeared to, spotting him on the far side of that conjoining alleyway. You were impressed by how far he’d already gotten despite being absolutely shitfaced.

Until he tripped over his own two feet and landed face first onto the concrete below. You sighed heavily, partially in relief. You made your way toward him, squinting into the ever growing darkness. As your eyes adjusted you could see him struggling to get to his feet. He was moaning in pain and slurring under his breath.

“Sir?” you called out gently. “Hey, you okay?”

The response you’d gotten sounded like a cross between a yes and some other incomprehensible stuttering. You stepped up next to him and bent down to help him to his feet, realizing he was heavier than he looked. He grunted and leaned his body weight against you to straighten up.

He muttered a thanks, the liquor strong on his breath as he began to stumble off in the direction he came in. You moved to follow him when something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye. You only had time to turn your head a fraction of an inch when a blurred figure suddenly appeared in front of you, slamming into the drunk.

You jumped as the sound of his body smacking against the wall echoed in the alley. Your eyes took a moment to adjust what you were seeing in front of you. A figure had him pinned against the wall in an embrace that almost seemed intimate. It was too familiar to you, knowing it was anything than a kiss.

“Arthur?” you spoke automatically.

A disgusting squelch sounded when the figure pulled their mouth from the drunk’s neck. The smell of fresh blood tainted the air as they turned their attention toward you. Even in the dark you could see the reflection of a predator in their eyes. A gaunt face framed with thick dark hair told you this was not Arthur.

This new vampire opened his mouth wide, revealing a pair of long razor sharp fangs.

#Arthur Morgan x reader #arthur morgan #vampire AU #vampire!Arthur

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love-killed-the-superstar · 4 years

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super late but here is day 6!! also: if the cottage was actually destroyed i’m sorry, but i combed through TOTS a LOT and couldn’t seem to find any proof it was actually fully destroyed so... please just suspend your disbelief for this one, lads

CASSUNZEL WEEK DAY 6 - TRUST AND HEALING

Interior decorating is something Rapunzel never figured she and Cass would have in common, but somehow, here they are.

To be perfectly honest, when Rapunzel decided to return to Gothel’s old cottage (or what was left of it, anyway) she wasn’t really sure how Cassandra would take the news. How exactly does one explain that they’re rebuilding your nearly-destroyed childhood home that may or may not hold a boatload of trauma inside its walls? In the end she had taken the coward’s way out and written her to break the news, fully expecting to be met with silence on Cass’s end, as so often happens when she receives news that’s hard to swallow. The fact that she returned to Corona less than a month after the letter had been sent surprised Rapunzel to no end.

(“So, we’ve got our work cut out for us,” she had said nonchalantly, climbing off of Fidella’s back and rolling up her sleeves as Rapunzel stared in shock. “Where should we start?”

“I-I didn’t think you’d actually – well, hang on a moment,” Rapunzel had replied, chickening out of the tough conversation. “Let me just find my clipboard.”)

Cass has been… a little quiet on the matter, to be honest. It’s been easy enough to keep distracted by the house; the foundation and floors have been rebuilt where they’d been torn through by black rocks, and Rapunzel had the roof rethatched several weeks earlier. Cassandra has thrown herself into repairing furniture, refitting the window panes and getting the water mill back up and running again, while Rapunzel has taken to repairing torn curtains, scrubbing mould and mildew and moss from the walls, weeding the cracks where plant life has inevitably sprung up from and filling them in afterwards. The effort to seal up the entrance to Gothel’s strange underground mirror lair takes the both of them, and although neither of them have much to say, it gives Rapunzel a grim satisfaction that the burned, smashed up hideout can’t be reached any longer.

This part of fixing the house takes just over two weeks of dawn-til-dusk of hard work, and each evening they ride back to the castle and fall into Rapunzel’s bed, too tired to really talk about it. Eugene finds the whole thing bizarre and doesn’t shy away from telling them so, but Rapunzel kind of got the feeling that he wouldn’t understand it from the moment she mentioned the idea to him.

(“Why are you dragging this ordeal out?” he had asked her one night, just two days before Cass showed up at the house without warning. “And why bring Cass into it at all? I don’t want to police your process, but isn’t it time to put Gothel behind you both and… learn to let go of the past?”

Rapunzel hadn’t known how to answer him. “It’s just something I want to do,” she had said instead. “And Gothel hurt her too, Eugene. I can’t keep it from her.”)

They don’t need to talk about it; not if they don’t want to. Rapunzel and Cassandra seem to have come to a silent agreement that they won’t push for some big heart-to-heart that ends in tears, or an argument that eventually turns into a greater understanding of each other’s pasts.

When it comes to the house that Gothel built, nothing really needs to be said at all. Right?

…

“I can’t believe we’ve done this, Cass.”

“Tell me about it. What exactly ignited this passion project of yours, anyway?”

“I wanted to breathe new life into this place, I guess.”

The two of them stand back and stare at their surroundings in satisfaction. There’s no more cobwebs or ivy or moss covering the walls, and where there are stains Rapunzel has thrown on a cream wash. The floors and ceiling and roof are repaired, the windows are no longer cracked and smashed, and the creak of the water mill can be heard faintly from outside. The salvaged furniture is stacked up in the centre of the room, and Rapunzel has decided that tomorrow they’ll take a trip to the market to replace the items that were too far gone to be saved.

Today, they’re focusing on the walls.

Rapunzel’s vision is a little… eclectic. Pale, neutral walls might be best, and perhaps they can be accented with floral imagery, or maybe even a mural of the cottage itself. Another part of her, however, dreams in full colour; cerulean walls, or perhaps celadon, with bright sunny yellow flowers and trees with purple leaves – and why stop there? She could paint some horses in a meadow, or birds soaring through the sky. Why not paint fairies, unicorns, dragons? Make this house its own storybook experience?

“I’m so torn on my vision,” she confesses to Cassandra as she stands between buckets upon buckets of paint, an entire rainbow of choice laid out in front of her. “I need a better idea of what to paint before I can even think about washes. Any thoughts?”

“I’m a little creatively stinted, Rapunzel,” Cass deadpans. “I thought you had a clear vision of this place when you started out?”

“I can’t narrow it down. Do I want to go simple, or do I want to completely transform this place?”

Cass shrugs listlessly, sitting down cross-legged by the stacks of furniture. “You just have to listen to your gut.”

Oh, if guts could talk, Rapunzel would be all ears. Her frown deepens as she contemplates her options. Maybe she should find a compromise. Pale walls, vibrant art? Maybe that will work best.

Hesitantly, she reaches for a muted green (the bedroom area can be a forest mural now, she’s decided, or maybe a marsh) and heads over to a wall in need of a fresh coat. Cassandra joins her, a comically large paintbrush in hand, and they paint in a sullen silence.

“So, Cass. I’m… I’m glad you came back to help me out with this,” Rapunzel ventures. “You didn’t have to.”

“You sounded afraid in your letter,” Cass says coolly, with a long sweeping stroke. “Like you thought I would be angry at you for doing this, so I thought I should come back. Besides, I… I wanted to see it for myself.”

Cassandra can be frustratingly hard to read sometimes, and now happens to be one such instance. Rapunzel isn’t sure what she wants right now. It was easy enough not to talk at first, but something about pouring some of her own flair into these walls makes her uneasy – has her overcome with this urge to get everything off their chests before she proceeds. What memories does Cass have of this place? Does it hurt to be here, even if she refuses to show it? Is there some good left in this place, parts that Cassandra might not want to let go of?

“Do you like what you see?” Rapunzel asks quietly.

“...I don’t know yet. I need a fuller picture before I draw any conclusions.”

Rapunzel feels like – hopes – she has some insight into how Cass might be feeling right now. Returning to the tower for the first time since reuniting with her family had given her all sorts to think about, and watching it fall had filled her with a nauseating combination of crisis and catharsis. After all, there were some good memories amongst all the long, drawn out days of agonising boredom and walking on eggshells around Gothel, always so afraid of saying the wrong thing and making everything worse. It wasn’t love, and her world was so small before she left the tower behind.

Even if her time with Gothel was far briefer, Rapunzel can’t help but wonder if Cassandra holds echoes of fond memories somewhere in there, as few and far between as they may have been.

“You know, when I returned to this place, I didn’t think the house would be salvageable,” Rapunzel confesses to the silence. “Given the spike tearing through it, and the way the mountain crumbled inside, I figured it would probably have fallen apart. So seeing that there was still a chance to restore it… I don’t know. I couldn’t really think about anything else, for weeks afterwards. In the end, Eugene just told me to get it all out of my system. He’s not exactly happy about it, but…”

“Well sure, the wedding will suck if you’re too busy thinking about complimentary paint colours to focus on your vows,” Cass points out dryly. Rapunzel laughs.

“Yeah, you have a point.” As she goes to dip her paintbrush again, she glances to the wall adjacent; cream, blank, inviting.

“...Do you have a date in mind yet?”

“Not yet. We’re thinking spring or summer though. We need time to get all the arrangements together, after all.” Rapunzel purses her lip. “You know, I think I’m going to start on some detailing. Mind finishing this off?”

Cass nods, and carries on in that same long silence. Rapunzel moves onto the wall. She envisions a recreation of that cottage. She’s been sketching it a lot, lately, and goes to retrieve her journal.

“You’re making a mural of the cottage?” Cass wrinkles her nose as Rapunzel leans the journal up against a beam at the edge of the wall. “So you step inside, just to see the outside all over again?”

“Well, it’s picturesque!” Rapunzel says. She lingers, paintbrush trailing in the beige she picked out for the base of the house. “Unless you don’t want me to paint it?”

A pause. “No, go ahead. Paint it. It doesn’t matter to me either way.”

Rapunzel begins slowly at first, glancing between the wall in front of her and the woman two metres away, still listlessly dragging the brush. She’s changed a little; her hair is getting longer, scraped back into a slightly lopsided ponytail to keep it out the way. Rapunzel is tempted to drag a comb through and tie it more evenly, but judging from the tension in Cassandra’s shoulders, it would probably be met with resistance.

After a while, however, Rapunzel soon falls into the trance of painting – absorbed into the gentle strokes of the brush, planning the subtle lighting and how to translate the details of the house in simple splotches of paint. She even forgets her original plight to talk things through with Cass, losing her awareness of the world around her until it is simply her and the brush and the wall, coming together to paint this fairytale home, where from now on only good things will happen and happy memories will be made and no child will ever feel abandoned or unwanted or hurt ever again–

“Rapunzel!”

Cass grabs her arm and Rapunzel jerks out of her vision, staring at her in confusion. Her paintbrush, dripping jade, is just inches from the edge of the beam in the corner. The stretch of grass she was in the middle of painting now has an uneven glob that slowly rolls down like a teardrop. Cass grips her arm tight, eyes bright with alarm.

“Cassandra, what’s wrong?”

“I…” Her grip loosens and, brow furrowing, she releases Rapunzel’s arm. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong, you just…”

“I just?” Rapunzel prompts, bewildered.

“The beam. You were – you were going to get paint on the beam.”

“Oh. Uh, good reflexes! I didn’t realise.” She laughs nervously. “Guess I got a little carried away, huh?”

“Yeah, well.” Cass mutters, stepping back. She sets her paintbrush back in its bucket and runs her fingers through her hair, uncaring that she smudges green paint against her scalp in the process. “Just be careful, Rapunzel, all right?”

“Uh, sure.” Rapunzel frowns. “Cass, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Raps.” She turns her back. “Look, I’m going to get some fresh air.”

She heads towards the door without looking back, leaving the door wide open and swinging as she goes. Rapunzel watches after her, thoroughly confused, before turning back to the wall. Maybe Cassandra does hate the mural. Maybe she hates everything Rapunzel is doing right now, and is just here to intervene when things get too much? After all, things have been strange between them since she returned. They’ve barely hugged or kissed or held hands, and Rapunzel knows they’re not in the giddy, starry-eyed closeness stage of their relationship anymore, and Cass has never been huge on big gestures of affection, but still… it’s impossible to ignore this atmosphere any longer.

As she sets her own paint brush aside, dejected, something catches the corner of her eye and she pauses. There’s something on the beam. When Rapunzel looks, she can’t work out at first why it grabbed her attention; it’s just a chip in the wood, a scrape maybe, but it’s fairly deep. She only noticed it from bending over, it’s not too far off the ground… and that’s when she sees more scratches. Some are shallower than others, some more controlled and some extremely wobbly and veering off to one side. But she can make out that they’re more than just someone chipping away at wood when they’re bored. There are… scribbles, wonky bodies, twigs for arms.

The lower part of the beam is covered in a child’s carvings.

The longer Rapunzel stares, the colder she begins to feel inside. This beam isn’t the only one; there are dozens of wooden trimmings, as her feet carry her across the room, and each with the same cast of characters – a tall scribble and a shorter scribble. Mother and daughter.

She needs to find Cass.

Rapunzel doesn’t need to look hard. She barely takes two steps outside before she sees the glint of Cassandra’s sword as it slashes through the air, sparring with herself. If she hears Rapunzel approach, she doesn’t acknowledge her until Rapunzel offers, “I saw the carvings. I’m sorry, Cass.”

“Why be sorry? You didn’t know they were there,” she mutters, swinging again, and again. “Nobody did. Even I didn’t, until we started the wash. Once we were standing there, the memories kind of hit me all at once.”

“They were yours, then.” No response. “...They looked quite advanced, for a four-year-old’s drawings.”

“Well, what else was I supposed to do to pass the time, once the floors had been swept and the beds had been made?” Cass snaps. Another swing. “I had nothing but free time with the house to myself, after all.”

“Cass, can we please talk about this without the deadly weapon thrown in?” Rapunzel pleads. Cass ignores her. Another swing.

“I’m just lucky she was never around long enough to really pay attention to them. I mean, can you imagine how she would have scolded me? Or worse?” Another swing.

“Cassandra, please. Put down the sword. Let me near you.”

“I don’t get it, Rapunzel! Why did… why did I just – why did I ever let Zhan Tiri fool me into thinking she might have loved me?”

“Cass, stop!”

Cass raises her sword to strike again when she feels arms wrap around her waist, halting her in her tracks. Rapunzel clings on, pressing her cheek to Cassandra’s back and feeling her erratic breathing as she stands still, finally allowing the sword to lower gently.

“...Why did it have to be this cottage, Rapunzel?” she croaks. “Isn’t it better to leave it all buried?”

“I don’t think so,” Rapunzel whispers. “Darling, I don’t think that will work forever.”

Cass sinks to her knees, taking Rapunzel with her, and they kneel in silence as the breeze rustles the trees around them.

“I feel sick,” Cass says dully, setting her sword down in the grass. Rapunzel presses her forehead to the space between Cassandra’s shoulder blades, breathing in her smell, trying to soothe her somehow.

“This is too weird, isn’t it?” she murmurs.

“Rapunzel, it’s so fucking weird.” Rapunzel winces. Cass does well not to curse in front of her, but, well… maybe now isn’t the best time to comment on it. “You never even lived here. Why do you have this need to mold it to your worldview instead of letting it rot away quietly like everybody else was happy to do?”

“This is a beautiful place,” Rapunzel protests. “Isn’t it beautiful? Why should it have to die because of the terrible things she did? You were born in this cottage, Cassandra, that means something! Gothel was a horrible person and she made both of our lives miserable, but – but that doesn’t mean we can’t still find something beautiful in this place.”

“Not everything has to be beautiful, or even saved. Fixing a house isn’t going to fix us, is it?”

The sharpness of her words cut right through Rapunzel, and pulls away from Cass, stunned. Cass cranes her neck to face her, regret already written all over.

“You’re right. I’m a fool, aren’t I, Cass? Because I – I actually hoped it would.” Rapunzel buries her head in her hands. “Darn it, I… I want to move on, just like you do. I always think I’m over the tower and Gothel, but then when I found this place… I just thought about how good it would feel to take it away from her and make it beautiful and then some new family could live here, a loving family who take care of each other and don’t b-belittle their kids…”

Cass turns around fully, and reaches over to squeeze Rapunzel’s shoulders.

“Don’t, Raps. You’re not foolish for wanting those things, all right? I just… I don’t think painting some walls will bring you any closure. And being here, surrounded by all these things that remind us of her, isn’t helping either.”

“I shouldn’t have written to you. Eugene told me to leave you out of this because he knew this was a bad idea and we’d both get hurt from it, but I didn’t listen, and now-”

“Seriously, stop. Do not give Fitzherbert the satisfaction of being right about something.” Rapunzel peeks up at her, and Cass offers her a small smile. “I didn’t feel like this the whole time. It has been kind of fun, repairing things and putting it all back together, but then I’d remember where we were and wonder why we were doing this, and – and I didn’t know how to even talk to you about it.”

“I thought you just didn’t want to talk, so I didn’t try to push it.” Rapunzel smiles faintly. “Eugene is going out of his mind, trying to understand the logic of the situation.”

“He’s not the only one.” Cass leans forward and kisses Rapunzel softly. “Look, if you truly believe that redecorating will somehow cleanse this house of Gothel forever and give us some catharsis, I’ll trust your judgement. But only if you trust mine when I say that this isn’t the only way to do that.”

Rapunzel nods, leaning over to kiss her back.

“I’m sorry Gothel hurt you,” she murmurs. Cass sighs sadly.

“I’m sorry she hurt you too.”

“I wish Zhan Tiri hadn’t forced you to remember all of this, but… do you regret knowing?” Rapunzel asks, running a thumb across Cassandra’s cheek soothingly. Cass leans into her touch, eyes fluttering shut.

“No. I always knew something was missing, so even though it hurts, at least the pieces are all there. I just – I wish it had gone differently, that’s all. I wish she had been different.”

They sit in silence, neither sure of what else to say, and Rapunzel glances back over at the house. It stands stout and quiet, charming on the outside, but somehow she can't bring herself to go back inside. “...You know, maybe we should leave it for today.”

Cass quirks an eyebrow in confusion. “Really? It’s barely noon, and the walls won’t paint themselves.”

“It’ll still be standing tomorrow! Besides, we’ve been perfect strangers since you came back. I want to take a moment just to be with you.”

She flops back, stretching out on the soft grass and staring up at the cloudless sky above. It truly is beyond beautiful out here. Cassandra’s face hovers over hers, presses a kiss to her brow, and then she lies back beside her.

“You know, when you take Gothel out of the equation, this place is really peaceful,” Cass comments.

“If we have our way, by the time we’re done no one will associate it with her ever again,” Rapunzel agrees. “Wouldn’t it be nice?”

“Paradise,” Cass remarks, and Rapunzel can hear the wry smile in her voice as she speaks. “It would be just paradise.”

When it comes to the house that Gothel built, they’re going to build it back up, better than ever before. Nothing else needs to be said. The clouds drift on and they lie there, hand in hand.

#cassunzel week #cassunzel week 2020 #cassunzel #tangled the series #tts #writing

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whirlybirdwhat · 4 years

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in the kingdom of desert flowers

a birthday fic for @onepiecehcs based off of their nami/vivi knight au!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!! <33333!

Read On Ao3 For better formatting!

Nami meets her queen on a hot summer day in a kingdom not her own. The queen is in disguise of course, and Nami is dressed not as the knight she is but a commoner, but she still thinks Vivi is the most beautiful woman she’s ever met.

Because, who else could this woman be but Nefertari Vivi, Queen of the flowered desert of Alabasta?

Vivi smiles at her, hidden under a brown cloak that just barely shades her hair into something black instead of blue, and thanks her for paying for her drink. Nami smiles, says it’s no trouble at all even as her fellow knights in disguise gape at her (for she’s spending extra money) and introduces herself.

Nami, she says, truthful.

Wednesday, Vivi says, untruthful, but it’s fine.

Nami thinks she’s in love with the way she tilts her head anyway.

A conversation at the bar and Vivi is traveling with them. She’s Wednesday to them, Miss Wednesday to Sanji, and a love held deep in the heart for Nami. Vivi is still hiding, of course, and doesn’t tell them why she’s traveling with them beyond to get to the next town safely, but Nami knows the truth.

(There’s sand in her bag, spilling out and gleaming gold – living sand, sand from the Crocodile Man.)

She’s on the run, but not away from something – towards something, some chance at hope. Vivi loves her kingdom, or so Nami’s heard from the rumor mill spilling from Alabasta’s borders, so Nami knows she’s looking for something – some chance at victory.

Nami wants to be that chance – that guarantee. She wants her family, her little of band of knights to be it – to save a kingdom again, but not just any kingdom this time.

Vivi’s kingdom.

Selfishly, she admits, she really just wants to see Vivi smile so gracefully at her again.

(She’s not a pirate in this life, selfishness isn’t a code she gleefully lives by any more. But her King, Luffy, Emperor of the Rising Sun, has always had a thing about freedom, so Nami’s free to love as fully and as little as she wants.

And oh, does she love Vivi fully.)

There is a bounty hunter, three towns over, one that gets past Zoro’s swords and Usopp’s eyes and Franky’s shiny battle hull. He attacks Vivi with something explosive and Luffy’s knocked out to the left and Nami’s too late to lunge forward but—

But.

Vivi’s cowl whips off her head, showing a gleaming blue to the world, as she dashes forward underneath the hunter’s arm, her arm lashing out with precision. From her fingers peacock wings stretch out in deadly blades, cutting around the man’s stomach.

He’s down by the time Vivi spins him around, uncurling her whip from his waist.

Oh, Nami thinks.

The Queen of Alabasta has never surrendered, or so the rumors say.

Vivi smiles at her, and places a hand on the circlet over her head, a remnant of a rule she supposedly doesn’t have. “Oops.”

The squares empty, cleared out when the first bomb flung forward, so no one’s here to see Vivi in all her glory, save for the Straw Hat band of wandering knights (and one King.)

She’s beautiful like this, bold and brave and daring, so Nami just laughs so happily at her sudden bashfulness.

“That’s okay, my Queen,” She says, tempted to wink but it’s too soon. “We all knew anyway.”

The smile Vivi gives her back, trusting and bright, is more than Nami will ever need to be happy.

Vivi, identity out in the open, smiles more freely now, more happily. She laughs at the antics of Nami’s crewmates, and leans into Nami’s armored shoulder in the night. Vivi’s dressed in the drabbest clothing she can find, save for the circlet around her head, but she wears everything like it’s the finest silk.

She’s beautiful, when she’s free and not worried about her sand-swallowed country when she’s dancing around a campfire.

Nami wishes it could be like this forever.

But the Straw Hats do not hesitate or falter in their steps. They agreed to save Alabasta, and so to Alabasta they travel.

They have been to the West before. Nami hopes they like it.

She explains to Vivi who the Straw Hats are, past rumors and legends of tyrant defeating myths. She explains how Luffy is the King of the Kingdom of the East Sea, how he’s going to be the King of the Entire Sea (The Pirate King) one day, simply so he can travel anywhere he wants, so he can be free in the freest sense. She explains how she and the others are his loyal knights, his advisors, his treasure, and how she would give her life to him if he asked it.

(She does not mention how Vivi has that same power over her.)

She tells Vivi of how they found the stairway to the sky, how they have friends in the Darkest Depths of the ocean; how Nami knows three other princesses but none as beautiful as Vivi and how their home when they are not on the road, on an adventure, is a floating palace of the sea.

(The Thousand Sunny, home to souls as bright as the sun, the zenith of the East Sea.)

Vivi laughs when tells her how they convinced Franky to don his shining metal armor, how Zoro, the first knight of Luffy’s kingdom, is lost anywhere, how they once met a man who could make centaurs out of ordinary folk. Vivi opens her mouth in awe when Nami tells her how they took Robin back from the very kingdom they are seeking to take, declared war with only a crew of six; how they have taken back kingdoms and defeated warlords and tyrants and emperors, all for a friend.

Vivi cries when Nami tells her they will do the same for her.

(She cries when Nami tells her they will take her with them if she wants.)

(Vivi’s selfless but Nami’s selfish, and maybe that’s why she doesn’t beg her to stay anyway.)

A week before Alabasta, Nami takes Vivi to the secret cove where she has been once before. It’s a five-minute walk from where their party rests on the beach, but enough to give them some semblance of privacy.

Nami kisses her, there, head tilted gently to the side. It is not chaste but nor it is desperate – if Nami was the romantic sort (which she is, despite her protests) she would called it devoted.

Funny, how much she loves this girl.

Her eyes are closed when they kiss but when she opens them, Vivi is looking at her with love.

They kiss again and Nami doesn’t tell her how much she loves her, but she thinks Vivi knows it anyway.

(They hold hands on the way back to the group in the morning, and Nami thinks by the smile on her crew’s faces they know it too.)

The edge of Alabasta is sparse desert mixed with small plants. An hour in, it will be desert entirely, so they stop for the day, to start traveling at night, when it is a cool paradise amidst the desert heat. Vivi knows the land like she knows her people, and will guide them through safely.

They send letters out at the outpost, to Luffy’s brother who is running the kingdom in his absence and to the other which they may meet in Alabasta. They send letters to Cocoyashi, with pictures of a beautiful blue haired princess, and to the traveling places of the Baratie and Water 7.

The Straw Hats travel without thought of the past but they are figureheads of the kingdom. They do not forget those left behind.

(Nami shows Vivi the letters she writes Nojiko, hoping she’ll know that the letters she will send her love will be twice as long.)

Alabasta is hot and beautiful and dangerous all at once. The Kingdom of the Desert Flowers, Kingdom of the Swallowing Dunes, Kingdom of Blooming Sands – no epithet could describe Alabasta in its entirety, how one could take a step forward and be drowned in sand without ever knowing, or be bit by a red snake hiding in the desert blossoms.

The heat burns her armor during the day and the coolness sinks through it at night. They stop in a town and Vivi shows her the armors of her own country, light weight and breathable and not meant for avoiding sturdy attacks or blocking blades like Nami’s armor is.

She likes it, likes the blue clothes that come with it, and vows to become faster, faster than she has ever been before, to use this armor to its fullest so she won’t drown in desert heat. For now, she and her crew dress in Alabastian fabrics, and hope it will be enough. Their armor is attached to the caravan they bring along, ready to face battle once they reach the palace.

Vivi laughs as Nami twirls in the silks and offers her hand in dance. She sings along to market songs, Vivi stumbling in her words after her, but it doesn’t matter. Its happy, this desert song, more so when Nami overhears that this particular dance is for newlyweds.

They travel onward, keeping to Alabasta’s sole river, and celebrate in the night.

In the middle of the desert is a city which rain has not blessed for three years. In that city lies a warlord, a man made of drifting sand, who has stolen the life from Alabasta, forcing its flowers to shrivel and die. In the city are a thousand people and a bomb, a secret rune that no one else will ever see.

In this city is a war for the people, and now, its victors in gleaming familiar armor.

Aluburna is Vivi’s home and now, her battleground.

Nami does not see her king disappear to take down a man without solid form, or the rest of her crew disappearing to fight their own battles.

Her eyes are on Vivi and the way she screams for her people to stop, for just one moment, for forever, and Nami’s heart hurts.

It is then, dressed in fabric and gleaming gold, that Nami thunders.

She has torn down gods and tyrants before. She will harness that power and burn the universe for this woman.

Nami wields lightning and devotion like a sword and cuts the spirit of war in half.

The soldiers and rebels grow quiet, the leaders of the enemy forces gaping in awe at this tempest knight, and rain – glorious rain- falls down on desert flowers for the first time in years.

Vivi’s face as cool water splashes against it is beautiful. Nami can’t tell if its only rain, or tears as well, but Vivi is happy for the storm Nami wrought upon her kingdom, and –

Well.

Nami loves her.

(A kingdom is saved that day, and a tyrant bleeds into sand as the sun sinks below the horizon. There are sacrifices, losses, but Nami holds Vivi in her arms as they stare out over a sea of sand and kisses her so softly that only the song of victoryrings into the night.

Alabasta blooms once more.

And like Nami’s love, it’s as gorgeous as the sun.)

Vivi waves them off with an X carved into her wrist in black, a promise and a declaration that she is treasured by this King’s Crew, and they wave back, ink on their own wrists.

There are tears in everyone’s eyes, and Zoro suggests they kidnap Vivi.

Everybody wants to – they know Vivi wants to as well.

They all know why they can’t.

(Vivi’s heart belongs to three things, and three things alone. Her country, her family, and her love.

Nami knows Vivi will always be hers no matter where they are, but the desert of Alabasta and its people knows no such mercy.

Vivi must stay. But -)

“Hey Captain?” Nami asks, rubbing a hand on her wrist and her promise. “What do you say to a visit?”

By the answering grin on Luffy’s face, Nami knows she will hold her love again soon.

The Straw Hats sneak into the city at the dead of night, for no other reason than it is fun too, but Nami is the only one to reach the castle.

She’s silent in the night despite her armor. People do not call her Thief for no reason after all. And now she has a heart to steal.

Dressed in Alabastian armor again, she won’t fail.

She climbs the tower, creeping over vines and flowers that crawl up sandy walls. Alabasta is a miracle in earthen tones, and if Nami did not like the way the wind blew so much, she thinks she would stay.

Soon, she reaches the top, where Vivi lies.

Nami taps on the window.

(A surprise, she hopes.)

It only takes one tap before Vivi is looking at her, smiling, leaning out to place a kiss on her cheek.

She’s speechless as Vivi laughs so prettily.

“I saw you coming, love. I know your habits.”

And, well, who is Nami to argue that?

Vivi jumps out the window next to her, already clad in traveling clothes still fit for a princess, and laughs again at Nami’s face. Another kiss graces her, before Vivi begins to steal away from her own kingdom.

“Let’s go!”

And really – what can Nami do but agree with her?

They end up in a valley of flowers between desert cliffs, blooming in colors of red and orange and white, pink dotting the hillsides, as pretty as a sunset over the sea. They walk besides each other, Vivi on her horse, Carue, and Nami, armored, walking through delicate thorns.

Every step is a little more peaceful. Every step Nami reveres this queen. Ever step Vivi looks at this knight, her knight, and feels something warm and bright fill her heart.

Wednesday, Vivi had introduced herself to Nami, and Nami had fallen in love.

Vivi! Nami had cried as she brought the storm to Vivi’s desert, and Vivi had known, then more than ever, that she loved her.

There are stolen moments like this, when they walk amongst the flowers, and Nami is so very good at stealing things despite her title of honorable knight.

Nami steals this time with Vivi so often it feels like they never part.

(A permanent place on her wrist and in her heart, a love no god could ever break apart.)

The sunlight, warm and gentle, graces Vivi’s cheeks as Nami helps her from Carue, calloused hands fitting in place with calloused hands.

Flowers spread by Vivi’s feet, so beautiful, but there’s time to look at them later. For now, the freckles on Nami’s cheek brighten with her smile, the flow of her hair cascading down her back, and –

Vivi has seen portraits and queens and princesses across the world.

None compare to Nami’s glow.

A hand, ungloved and unarmored, caresses Vivi’s cheek then, as a pink, thornless rose is place behind her ear.

“I love you,” Nami says, and kisses her with her hands cupped around Vivi’s face.

I love you, says the feel of her lips, I love you, says the x on her rest, I love you, says the way Nami’s head rests on Vivi’s circlet when they pause for breath, I love you, Nami says with her entire being.

“I love you,” Vivi says back, not like a queen but like the woman Nami fell in love with, and hopes the burning passion in her heart gets across.

By the way they both fall into the flowers, petals exploding around them as Nami’s armor carefully avoids bruising her, Vivi thinks it does.

(I love you, a queen says to the knight of a foreign country, and it would be a tragedy if it was any one but them.)

#so anna remember when i aske dto write the nami vivi au for you. then never posted it. well i finished it and now its a birthday present for #surprise!!!#SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND SORRY FOR ALL THE INEVITABLE TYPOS!!!! your art is gorgeous and i love talking to you and your ideas and concepts #are just always fcking aweomse its amazing. anyway. HAPPY BIRTH!!! ENJOY!!! i sincerely hope you are not up rn #nami #vivi #lmao this is also why I checked earlier today wanted to make sure I was posting on the right date #op #one piece #namivivi #navi #knight au #legendaryjarcollection #onepiecehcs

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