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yandere-kokeshi · 4 months

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Yandere Headcanons of Kratos

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about liking the different sex (male), kidnapping, forced affection, and mention of killing (duh).

A/N: yeah, I started writing this, and now it’s posted; I’d love requests from this man! This is written as the current Kratos (2022). Hope you enjoy <3!

@sakuracream, here it is!

He’s insanely protective, and just as possessive in the sense that everybody will know you are taken by his menacingly form standing behind you. He acts like a guard dog, always behind you with his resting face, ensuring that nobody disrespects you. But, he’s also caring in his own way.

It’s a slow burn with him. Kratos isn’t one for simply falling in love with someone, especially with the amount of guilt, shame, and fear he carries each day of his life. He’s lost so many, and doesn’t want to get attached again. Even if he admits it or not, Kratos suffers from abandonment + trust issues. There’s a lack of consistency in his life from as far back as he can remember. So, when first meeting you, it’s harsh.

The meetings of you two are likely between Atreus. You could be a sorcerer they ran into on a late evening, Atreus quickly becoming on good terms with you; begging for you to help him with certain topics, or teaching him things of magick.

You could be a blacksmith, Sindri making you two meet as his rather permanent weapon needs help. Or, in an infrequent case, an enemy turned into a good ally. Either way, opening up for him isn’t easy.

Again, it’s a slow burn. He slowly notices how you make him feel — and it irks him. He doesn’t like feeling fear when he loses sight of you, or when you mumble to yourself, he hates feeling jealousy on not being able to hear what you’re saying. It’s difficult for him to analyze his emotions, and with you being near him most of the time, he’s unsure how to approach you, especially if you’re of the different sex. His heart naturally flutters when you talk, his go-to responses of grunts or silence of listening current. Hands sweat when you nudge his shoulder or accidentally bump into him. To you, he’s a tough nut. But underneath all that, he’s analyzing his emotions better; looking at you with love.

Little by little, it starts with him writing in his journal about you. Descriptions of your characteristics, your likes & dislikes, how you two interact, how close you are to Atreus, and how your habits work; which he describes are quite adorable. This often leads to him stalking you, looking at you when you aren’t paying attention, and reading/and learning your body language like his backhand. It only adds to his adoration towards you, if by chance, you’re a motherly figure to his son.

With this and interacting with him for a long period of time on a daily basis, Kratos, at some point, lowers his guard — especially if Atreus openly says he trusts you.

And just like a snap of fingers, he prioritizes you. Actively looking at you when you aren’t around. Asking the others if he’d seen you; quickly shutting the conversation down if Atreus or Mimir ask what’s with him. Small touches are guaranteed, a hand guiding you on your lower back. Fingers ‘accidentally’ nudging to yours when you’re beside each other. Grabbing you by the waist to help you climb on rocks. Or teaching you factors of hunting that he knows you’ll enjoy doing.

At this point, he’s already attached, far too North. It’s a perfect family, is it not? You aren’t going anywhere without him. He’s fallen for you, quite hard. The rope has snapped, and you’ll be his.

This said, kidnapping is ensured. It’ll start slow at first, Kratos keeping you a bit longer at home so you can get used to it. He often invites you for supper and dinner; making stew, or having deer. He engages with small talk, admiring you and his son. Slowly but surely, he adds things inside the cabin that he knows you’ll like — shelves of books and poems, more blankets, clothes of your liking, and many items of those hobbies of yours. Atreus adds in too, gifting and creating you things with your thoughts in vain.

It is, until, one day, you’re permanently kept into the house. Once you try to leave, your smile goes away as you realize he’s blocking your way to the door — ordering you to sit back down. Depending on your reaction, he’s equally stronger than you are, and already has you sitting down, either with his strength or voice. If he needs to, he will chain you; he’s determined on not losing anybody close to him again.

The mere idea of losing you sends him into a panicked state, to which, he’s forced the option for you to stay here, forever.

Life in Midgard with Kratos is rather isolated — even though he doesn’t mean to. He loves you, and often fears the worst scenarios, which means everywhere you go, even to see an old-friend, he’s there with a possessive grip.

Within the stand of home, Kratos tries to make it cozy, and to your liking; adding things to make sure your ‘stay’ is more comfortable. He adds many blankets to the shared bed as needed to keep you warm, even though he’s a lava himself. Every night, he makes delicious food, and often tells you to retire everything to him as he promises to take care of you.

Affection is hard for him to express — especially with words, so he’s more passionate within his actions. If you two are out in public, he will be touching you one way or another; he has a fear that you’ll leave him, which makes him quite clingy. A hand on your hip, pinky-interlocking-pinky, or if he’s feeling threatened, he puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes you into him. If he’s not directly by your side, rest assured that he will be glaring at anyone who approaches you or even looks at you.

In private, it’s worse. He’s practically glued to your side, and if you’re sitting down, you better believe he’s scooching you closer to his body, and making you sit in/or between his lap.

Despite his ‘distant’ and gruff answers, he pays attention to the littlest things and wants to make you happy. Despite his possessiveness, If you mention missing your homeland, Kratos will wake you up early the next morning, take you to fatherland and let you visit for a short period of time; a large hand wrapped around yours the whole time.

Pass-to-conversation that you need more items for your certain hobby? He’s heading down to the trading posts at the butt-of-dawn, actively looking for what you said, and bringing it home with a grunt of, “Here.”

At some point in the future, he’d love to have a bigger family. The thought of having another kid, possibly a daughter, makes his heart flutter and a small smile widen. Though, if you’re of the different sex/or cannot get pregnant, he’s open to adopting or simply just having you and Atreus.

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Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

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queenshelby · 7 months

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Business As Usual (Part Five)

Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning: Arranged Marriage, Angst, Cheating

Words: 1,678

NOTE: THIS IS MUCH DARKER THAN WHAT I USUALLY WRITE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Just as you heard the shots and Tommy walked outside, your heart raced in fear. Your body trembled with anxiety, realizing how dangerous your life had become since marrying into the world of the notorious Peaky Blinders and, even though you grew within the ranks of the Mafia, you had always been sheltered from the dangers of the underworld.

But this did not mean that you could not protect yourself. Your father had taught you how to shoot when you were just a child. Taking one step backward, your hand thus instinctively reached out to grab the gun resting elegantly yet threateningly upon Tommy’s mahogany-finished desk.

Your fingers brushed over the cool metal surface, feeling an almost primal connection to it. The click echoed through the vastness of the room, reminding you of all those years ago – practicing until your aim became perfect, steady. This was what you needed now as there was no way that you would rely on anyone else to protect you and the unborn child you were secretly carrying.

You heard another shot being fired outside before gripping the gun firmly, pushing past the panicked fear swirling inside you.

As you stepped forth onto the porch area where Tommy was standing, he immediately snapped, telling you to go back inside.

"I told you to stay inside!" His voice boomed throughout the night air like thunder, causing birds to scatter and leave their perches just before another shot was fired from somewhere down below - close enough to raise alarm bells in both of your hearts. Fear and adrenalin coursed swiftly through your veins, urging you both to act decisively amidst uncertainty.

"Who is it?" your voice quivered slightly as the words left your lips, betraying your growing fear.

"Someone whose got out for you and your fucking family. Now go back inside!" Tom's command came sharply, cutting through the oppressive silence that had fallen upon the gardens below. But despite his tone suggesting authority, his face revealed hesitation mixed with anger, making clear that while he knew better than most, leading such a brutal organisation carried its own set of burdens. As his gaze shifted towards the ground, you couldn't help but notice how his usually cold exterior softened, replaced instead by vulnerability which only served to intensify the desire simmering beneath the surface.

With Charlie inside, he knew not to let this stand and, just after you indeed walked back into the foyer of your large residence, your husband ought to investigate the disturbance.

His presence commanded attention wherever he went. He strode purposefully forward, his powerful legs propelling him quickly along the front yard of Arrow House.

His mind conjured up images of the enemies he had vanquished and friends made, allies lost...all these memories seemed to whisper in his ear as he approached closer to the place from whence the shots were coming. His chest tightened at the thought of losing more comrades, especially when they faced challenges like this. It was a constant struggle, and although some may deem it glamorous due to popular culture portrayals, Tommy understood well that leadership wasn't easy nor glamorous, requiring endurance, tactical thinking and, above all, sacrifices.

Meanwhile, you walked towards the back of your large house to also investigate where the shots were coming from. Feeling anxious and worried, adrenaline flowed through your veins, leaving your hands clammy and your stomach knotted.

You knew that someone was in your house, intending harm to either Tommy or yourselves. Slowly, stealthily, you moved further into the hallway of your home, peering around corners and into rooms to ensure nothing escaped your vision. All the while, your ears strained to pick up any sounds indicative of danger nearby.

Suddenly, you caught sight of movement behind the sofa at the far end of the living room, and you instinctively raised your weapon, ready to defend yourself if necessary. Just then, something fell through the air from behind you.

Before you could react, the silhouette of a tall looking man emerged from behind the furniture, lunging toward you with a savage grace. With lightning speed, you raised your arm and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet flying straight towards your target. There was an audible scream followed by a sickening crunch, and then eerie stillness returned once again.

For a moment, you stood motionless, heart pounding wildly in your chest. It took several moments for you to realize what you had done.

Adrenaline surged through your body, and you felt numb. Your arms shook violently as you dropped the gun onto the floor, its sound reverberating across the silent house. You hadn't realized how much your body ached until you finally stopped firing. The pain radiated from your shoulder down your arm and into your wrist as you too must have been shot.

You covered your arm with your hand, trying to stop the bleeding as you looked downward, seeing the victim laying sprawled lifeless beside you before you heard yet another shot being fired outside, causing you to jump.

The sudden noise broke the spell, bringing back the harsh reality of the situation. Realization struck hard, as your heart hammered fiercely in your chest, your limbs trembling involuntarily. Adrenaline filled your system, causing your pulse to race erratically. Gulping down your terror, you managed to regain control over your shaking knees and picked up the gun you had fired just moments ago.

You raced outside, determined to find the source of the last shot fired. Outside, darkness loomed heavily, providing ample cover for potential attackers. The rain began to fall, creating puddles everywhere as you searched frantically for anything unusual that might indicate the presence of hostile forces. Glancing nervously in every direction, you tried to maintain focus while battling against fatigue and discomfort caused by your injury.

Finally spotting something suspicious near a group of bushes, you slowly edged closer, pointing your gun directly ahead as you steadied your breathing.

This is when you saw her. The woman you hated the most, holding a knife against your husband's throat while Isiah Jesus, another member of the Peaky Blinders, was pointing a gun at her.

Her hazel eyes held a mixture of determination and cruelty, contrasting starkly with Tommy's own intense gaze fixed on hers

Carefully, you approached the group and, in her panicked state, Laura did not notice you until your gun was pointed directly at her head.

"Drop the fucking knife or I will blow your brains out," you warned her, taking care to remain calm and composed. Your heart pounded in your chest, knowing full well that this situation was beyond treacherous.

Laura, however, remained unfazed, seemingly reveling in the fact that she was putting Tommy and herself in grave danger. Her resolve appeared ironclad, hinting at an underlying reason behind her actions that you didn't understand, but your primary concern at that moment was getting Tommy safely out of the line of fire, simply for Charlie's sake.

"You should join my side, Y/N. He is using you and so is your family," Laura argued defiantly, clearly wanting to cause havoc.

"Says the woman with no fucking morals whatsoever," you retorted, feeling your blood pressure rise as you struggled to contain your rising temper.

Isiah merely watched with grim detachment, waiting for orders from Tommy and sensing that things were about to get ugly very soon.

Realizing that arguing wouldn't solve anything, Tom decided to take action. His decision was final, showing the strength of his convictions even during times of crisis.

"Now drop the knife," you demanded again forcefully and, just as you spoke the words, Tommy grabbed her wrist tightly in an effort to push her away.

Laura, of course, put up a fight and it was this fight which caused you to lower the gun and shoot, aiming directly for her knee cap. The loud crack of the gunshot echoed around the neighborhood, startling nearby animals awake and bringing people to their windows wondering what was happening outside.

She cried out in agony, falling to the ground with a grimace painted across her face.

"This is for sleeping with my fucking husband," you seethed before uncocking your weapon.

Turning to Tommy, you asked him one simple question, "Why her? Why would you choose her?" This time, your hurt manifested itself in a palpable way, striking Tommy squarely in the gut as he contemplated your query.

He sighed wearily, running a hand through his dark hair in a characteristic gesture that belied his turmoil within. "It was business, nothing more," he said weakly, unable to meet your eyes.

But his eyes told another tale, and you recognized that look of guilt etched across his features.

"She fucking played you," you muttered under your breath, turning away to avoid further confrontation.

As you stepped away, moving past Isiah and heading towards the house, tears welled up in your eyes - the result of the betrayal, fear, and confusion swirling inside you.

"Get her away from my fucking house and put a bullet in her head if you want to, Thomas! I don't ever want to see this woman again. Do you hear me?" you spat after having turned around momentarily. Your heart pounded madly in your chest, threatening to escape from your ribcage altogether.

Pain seared through your injured arm, forcing you to grit your teeth against the waves of agony crashing upon you. Ignoring the debilitating pain, you pushed open the door leading back into the living room. Inside, everything looked as though chaos reigned supreme—the mess of torn papers littering the floor bore testament to the urgency of the encounter that had unfolded earlier. Dread settled in your bones as you trudged through the broken glass and discarded documents, eventually reaching the staircase leading to the second level.

Tears threatened to overflow as you climbed the steps, wincing slightly at the sharp prickle of pain coursing through your wounded arm.

Desperate to distract yourself from the overwhelming mix of emotions raging within you, you attempted to focus on your physical injuries instead. The bullet lodged in your arm had now begun to throb insistently, accompanied by a steady trickle of blood oozing outwards.

You knew that you had to attend to your injuries now but you almost had no strength left within you to do so until, eventually, you heard a familiar voice from behind.

"I will take you to the hospital, Love," Tommy whispered softly, his tone laced with an unfamiliar tenderness. It seemed as though he genuinely wanted to comfort you despite all that had transpired tonight. And suddenly, your anger started to fade somewhat, probably because you were exhausted.

Inhaling deeply, you shook your head, knowing that there would be questions.

"No. You can get the bullet out," you replied stubbornly, unwilling to let anyone else help you. As strong as you may appear, you knew deep down that it wasn't really you, but rather pride keeping you standing upright in those shoes. Even as you clenched your jaw, attempting to hide the pain, your legs wobbled beneath you like jelly.

"I would, if you weren't pregnant," Tommy responded, a hint of regret evident in his tone.

Hearing these words, shockwaves of emotion coursed through you as you absorbed the truth hidden within those little words: 'pregnant'.

Your entire world shifted abruptly as gravity lost its meaning and the air became heavier. Reality crashed down on you mercilessly, leaving you stunned. Your child...his child, conceived amidst the chaos and violence that surrounded them daily.

"You know that I am pregnant? How?" you asked, seeing that you never told him. The uncertainty in your voice revealed both your surprise and disbelief.

Tommy nodded solemnly, acknowledging your astonishment. "Frances became to notice. She told me and I figured that you were going to see someone about it," he explained.

"I couldn't terminate the pregnancy, no matter how much I wanted to Thomas," you admitted, your voice low and somber.

There was a pause between you two before Tommy finally broke eye contact, looking downward thoughtfully. "I understand," he said before taking your hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze, and then leading you to his Bentley.

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raspberryslxt · 1 month

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Carl Grimes x Negan’s daughter!reader

warnings:none

The world had become a desolate wasteland, overrun by the undead and ruled by fear. Amidst the chaos, Carl Grimes found himself face to face with an unexpected ally – y/n, the daughter of the notorious Negan.

Carl cautiously approached the abandoned warehouse, his senses on high alert. He had heard rumors of survivors in the area, but he never expected to encounter Negan's daughter.

Y/n emerged from the shadows, her presence commanding attention as she leveled a gaze at Carl. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice tinged with suspicion.

Carl raised his hands in a gesture of peace, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger. "I'm just looking for supplies," he replied, keeping his tone neutral. "I mean no harm."

Y/n studied Carl for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Fine," she finally said, stepping aside to let him pass. "But watch your back. This world is unforgiving."

As they ventured deeper into the warehouse, Carl and y/n exchanged cautious glances, their guard never faltering. Despite the tension between them, Carl couldn't help but admire y/n resilience in the face of adversity.

"Your father... Negan," Carl began tentatively, breaking the uneasy silence. "What's he like?"

Y/n’s jaw tightened at the mention of her father, a shadow passing over her features. "He's... complicated," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But he's not all bad."

„He killed my friends,” the bot said. Y/n looked at him with a „really dude” look.

Carl nodded, understanding the complexities of family loyalty all too well. "I get it," he said softly. "We all have people we care about, even if they've done things we don't agree with."

As they scoured the warehouse for supplies, Carl and y/n found themselves opening up to each other in ways they never expected. They shared stories of their pasts, their hopes and fears laid bare in the harsh light of reality.

Hours turned into days, and Carl and y/n formed an unlikely bond as they navigated the dangers of the wasteland together. They fought off hordes of walkers, braved the elements, and relied on each other for survival in a world where trust was a rare commodity.

But their newfound partnership was put to the test when a group of hostile survivors threatened their sanctuary. Carl and y/n stood side by side, their weapons drawn as they prepared to defend their makeshift home.

"We can't let them win," y/n said, her voice steely with determination.

Carl nodded, his gaze unwavering as he met y/n’s eyes. "We won't," he vowed, a sense of urgency coursing through his veins.

As the enemy closed in, Carl and Y/n fought with a fierce intensity, their movements synchronized as they battled against overwhelming odds. In the heat of the moment, Carl found himself relying on y/n’s strength and agility, trusting her with his life in ways he never thought possible.

When the dust finally settled, Carl and y/n stood victorious, their chests heaving with exertion as they surveyed the aftermath of the battle. Despite the chaos and destruction surrounding them, they knew that as long as they had each other, they could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Y/n turned to Carl, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thanks," she said softly, her eyes betraying a vulnerability she rarely showed.

Carl returned her smile, a sense of warmth flooding his chest. "Anytime," he replied, his voice tinged with sincerity.

As they stood together in the fading light of the setting sun, Carl and y/n knew that they had found redemption in each other's company – two souls bound by the shadows of their pasts, yet united in their quest for a brighter future. And in a world consumed by darkness, that was enough to give them hope.

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #carl grimes x oc #the walking dead #twd #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #negan smith #negan x reader

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writeonwhiskey · 1 month

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the skz house: ch 13

a/n: thank you, as always, to @bahablastplz for editing! thank you sm, readers, for interacting with this fic. i appreciate every single one of you!

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Chan.

[ read chapter twelve here ]

Chapter Thirteen: Of Girl Talk and Berry

Saturday, November 4th

It’s four days into the challenge and there’s already $200 in the pot, $100 each from Felix and Changbin. Four days, and you haven’t made any attempts at seducing Hyunjin or Chan. The announcement of No Nut November was given on such short notice and has you feeling unprepared right now. Perhaps the boys did that on purpose so none of you would have time to plot their demise.

The first day of the challenge you were with Chan, and he made sure to keep his distance—he practically made you feel invisible. The unreasonably high wall he keeps between you seems to have risen even higher. Adding yet another obstacle in your way to winning this. The two of you don’t playfully flirt or make out for fun…and you’ve never been the one to initiate anything. If you try to, Chan will immediately know what you’re up to. You must play the long game with him, to make him believe you’re not interested in getting him to break.

The past few days with Hyunjin, though, have been easy. Bless his heart, he hasn’t banished you to your own bed yet. He has, however, taken to sleeping on his back rather than spooning you. He said he has to keep his precious parts away from your enemy territory. That’s fine. Better to let him relax in his presumed safety and pounce when he least expects it.

If you had it your way, you would only want Chan to lose, not Hyunjin. But all you would get for that is Chan doing your chores for a couple weeks. You want that vacation—you need both to lose. Winter break is approaching, and you’ve taken to using the thought of spending Christmas in a warm, tropical environment as your inspiration. So, unfortunately Hyunjin is going to have to be a casualty of war.

It’s mid-afternoon and everyone is home. Chan has called you, Allie, Charlotte, and Rhiannon down to the den. It’s on the first floor, on the opposite end of the kitchen—closer to the laundry room and garage. You’re all crowded in the hallway in front of the double doors.

“Now that the remodel is complete,” Chan addresses all of you, “you ladies will have your own area to do homework and study.”

“And to stay away from you guys this month?” Allie immediately remarks, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Suspicious timing for this to be complete, if you ask me.”

“Good thing I didn’t,” Chan smirks. “There are four desks, you can choose which one you want and decorate your area as you see fit. If you need help with anything, just ask.”

He seems so accommodating. It’s always interesting to see how Chan speaks to other people. Interesting in a ‘why can’t he be like that with me?’ kind of way. It reaffirms that there’s so much about him you don’t know, that he won’t let you know. You’ve become better at pushing away these thoughts, but it feels like they’re always lingering close by.

Chan steps aside and Allie reaches for both doorknobs, twists and then pushes to open them. You all file in and you’re the last one to enter. You turn around to see Chan right behind you, making a move as if he’s going to enter the room.

“Is there anything else you need to explain about this room?” You ask, placing a hand on his chest to stop him.

He looks down at your hand on his chest, then back up to meet your eyes. For a brief second you consider removing your hand, but it passes quickly. The rules of your fucked up arrangement with Chan are changing for the month. You will have to get out of your comfort zone with him, you can’t back down any time he makes you nervous.

“No,” he replies with a shrug.

“Then beat it,” you say, jerking your head in the direction of the living room.

He arches an eyebrow at you, and you smile in return before promptly shutting the door in his face.

When you turn back around to take in the room, you see that it’s huge. Bigger than any of the bedrooms you’ve seen in the house. The wall immediately in front of you has two large windows covered with light grey curtains and a futon up against it. The walls to the right and left each have two desks in front of them with white, gaming style chairs. They each have cat ears in different pastel shades attached to it—blue, purple, pink, and yellow. The center of the room is open with a large, circular, fluffy grey rug, a white coffee table and four papasan’s around it. On the wall to the right, above the desks, is a mounted TV. And on the left, near the door, is a bookshelf.

“Yeah…they’re definitely trying to keep us away,” Allie mutters, surveying the room. “I call the blue one.”

“Pink,” Rhiannon chimes in, going to her chosen desk.

“Which do you want?” Charlotte turns around to ask you. She’s the sweetest.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m fine with whatever.” You shrug.

She gives a curt nod and takes the chair with the yellow cat ears.

That leaves you with purple. You sit in the chair, open the drawers at the desk—of course they’re empty—and give the chair a spin. It’s close to the window, too, looking out toward the front yard.

“Damn them,” Rhi mutters, spinning in her chair too. “It’s really fucking cute in here.”

“We have to circle back to the timing of it all,” Allie says, leaving her desk to test out the futon.

“Highly suspicious,” Rhi agrees.

“I’m already tempted to just spend my free time for the month in here,” Charlotte replies. “They can jerk themselves off all month long.”

You all laugh at her words. It’s the most explicit comment any of you have heard from her. She offers a sheepish smile in return.

“Agreed,” you say. “Not only did they announce the challenge super late, but now they want us to spend more time here than out there working against them?”

“I wasn’t even planning on participating,” Charlotte shrugs.

“And give up the chance to win that trip?” Rhi shakes her head. “I’m gonna make Changbin crumble by week two. And Seungmin shortly after. I’m getting that trip.”

You smile as the conversation turns to a matter of true importance.

“Hold on. Timeout.” Allie says, abruptly sitting up on the futon and making a ‘T’ with her hands. “This is good—we can work together. But first let’s bring our school stuff down here and get snacks. Lots of snacks.”

It’s an easily agreeable suggestion. The four of you clammer out of the room and upstairs to retrieve your belongings. You drop them back off at your new desk then raid the kitchen for snacks and drinks. The snacks amassed on the coffee table in the den seem like a lot, but their removal didn’t even put a dent in what’s available in the pantry.

“So,” Allie says when everyone is back in the room and seated in a papasan. “Let’s dissect these men. Rhi…what’s your plan for Changbin?”

You listen intently as Rhiannon discusses her methods for Changbin and Seungmin. She explains that Changbin’s confidence in his body is a strength and weakness—he’s a sucker for a good compliment. She knows how pumped up he is after coming home from the gym and how susceptible he is to being provoked. A few comments about his lack of gains and he’ll feel like he has something to prove to her. Seungmin, on the other hand, will take a little more work. He’s stubborn and likes to be right, so she’s still figuring out a way to make him think losing the contest is his idea.

Allie then divulges how much Felix loves physical touch. She’s planning to essentially deprive the poor boy of it for a couple weeks, then pounce on him with so much of it at one time that he has to break. Lee Know on the other hand…your jaw drops and Charlotte coughs on the chips in her mouth when Allie explains he’s been asking to fuck her in the ass since she came to the house.

“He’s not as crude as it sounds, I swear,” she holds her hands up in defense. “He’s always gentle and sweet, and sometimes a little silly when he asks so he can play it off like he’s joking. But I know he wants to. He’s an ass man.”

“And you’re gonna let him do it?” You ask.

“Yeah…if I give him an ultimatum, I think he’ll take it. Plus, I’ve done it before,” she shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s not so bad. Don’t knock it until you try it!” She says in response to the look of shock on each of your faces.

Charlotte then goes on to explain how she doesn’t believe Jeongin will make it through this first week. Apparently, they had gone to an all-boy’s boarding school and with this being Jeongin’s sophomore year of college, he’s still trying to catch up on lost time. Han, on the other hand, she thinks he’ll end up losing just from masturbating alone.

“He has a high sex drive but he’s so…hmm, how should I put it,” she taps her chin with her finger. “He doesn’t want to feel like a burden to me? He knows how Jeongin is and tries to give me time to recuperate but in the process, he ends up getting turned on by the most random things and goes off to his room to rub one out.”

“Has he let you watch?” Rhiannon asks.

Charlotte giggles and shakes her head.

“That’s your in, girl. Ask him to let you watch…or better yet—do it with him…have him watch you. He’ll probably lose his mind.”

Charlotte seems embarrassed at the idea of it.

When it’s your turn, you easily open up about how patient Hyunjin had been with you. You explain that because he already waited so long, he could do it again without much struggle.

“Maybe,” Charlotte says. “But you could also use it to your advantage. Since he’s now had a preview, it might be harder to resist and go so long without it again.”

You nod in agreement. You’ll have to coax him into it, for sure. You know he’s capable of pushing away your advances, but you also know he finds pleasure in seeing and making you happy.

“What about Chan?” Allie asks. “If he won the last three years…that sounds like a challenge within itself.”

You feel a little less inclined to spill the details of your ‘relationship’ with Chan. From the information they’ve shared of their experiences, your interactions with Chan feel out of place in comparison. They’ve done some rather wild things as well, but the way they explained made it sound fun. And not like it was loaded with tension.

“He’ll be tough to crack, let’s say that.” You finally answer. “I don’t know if I should try coming on strong or just act wanton and desperate. But he’s so good at self-control, even in those moments.”

“There’s gotta be something,” Allie says. She grabs her laptop from her backpack and opens it on her lap, typing away on it furiously. “You might just have to get creative with something he wouldn’t expect. Some props or…”

She turns her computer around so you can all see the screen. It’s an amazon search for sexy lingerie.

“Oh, God, no,” you shake your head.

“I think most men would lose their shit seeing the girl they’re fucking dressed up in any of these,” Allie says.

“What is this house doing to us?” You ask, palming your forehead.

You all spend the next hour browsing the internet for things that might be useful in your respective missions. Allie is doubled over with laughter as she places an order for assless chaps. You order a few different items, still unsure that you’ll actually wear them. You’ve never dressed up in lingerie before. How heartbreaking would it be to do it for the first time and have the man you’re wearing it for reject you?

Tuesday, November 7th

You come out of the weekend thankful not only for the new workspace with the girls, but for the camaraderie it is helping to build. The den really is turning out to be a safe haven. Especially these last two days with Chan. Since you aren’t having sex, being in his room with him feels awkward. And that makes you feel like shit.

Even now as you’re climbing into bed, you don’t know what to say to him. But you have to set your plan in motion. He’s lying in his own bed already, too. He’s on his back, head propped up against his pillows and the light from his phone illuminates his face in the darkened room.

“Chan?” You call out to him meekly from your corner.

“Hm?”

“Are you not going to speak to me the entire month?”

“If that’s what it takes,” he replies coolly.

“I know I don’t stand a chance in hell at getting you to break so if it’s some sort of defense mechanism…it’s really not necessary,” you tell him. You’re glad he can’t see you, and you hope your tone sounds convincing. You’ve got to plant this seed perfectly.

He locks his phone, and his face disappears into the dark.

“What do you want to talk about y/n?”

“Are you an only child?” You ask.

“No.”

His short reply is met by silence. He doesn’t offer up any further information freely.

“Older? Younger?” You pry.

“Yes.”

Silence consumes the room again. In the safety of the darkness, your eyes roll so fucking far into the back of your skull. His answer doesn’t even make any sense.

“Maybe I should forget about becoming a vet and go into dentistry,” you say.

“Why would you do that?”

“All this fucking teeth pulling you have me doing to have a conversation.”

A snort sounds from across the room.

It’s followed by quite possibly the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard him make—a light and airy series of ha-ha-ha’s.

You’ve never made him laugh this way before. Didn’t think it possible.

“I’m serious,” you say, not bothering to hide your smile. “What do you think will happen if I know these things about you? That I’ll use them against you? Trust me, Chan, I don’t know anyone who gives a shit about how many siblings you have.”

“Then why do you want to know?”

“To understand who I’m living with.”

“I told you, you don’t need to understand me.”

“I may not need to, but I want to. I think that’s a pretty natural, human thing.”

He’s quiet and lets out a heavy sigh. You resist the urge to harp on him about it, the way he did when you sighed too much.

“I’m the oldest,” he says after another wave of silence. “I have a younger brother and sister.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“It was actually,” he replies, but for once it sounds like he’s joking with you.

“I’m an only child,” you offer up freely. “Thank you for asking.”

You wrack your brain for other questions to ask, to make the piercing silence filling the room go away. And then, to your surprise, Chan speaks up and you don’t have to.

“What made you want to be a vet?”

It’s so fucking stupid, but his question, his interest, sets your heartbeat off at an erratic pace.

“The simple cliché answer is that I’ve always loved animals,” you begin. “My grandmother was notorious for taking in strays and wounded animals of all kinds. She’d nurse them back to health and if they wanted to leave, they would, but if they wanted to stay, she’d keep them. Every time I went to visit her, I’d help with them and…I don’t know, I guess it just stuck with me. It felt really rewarding, seeing them recover. Though, they did not all make it and that was gut wrenching as a kid.”

When you finally stop talking you feel as though you’ve overshared. Maybe he’s not looking for in-depth answers.

“Did you have any pets growing up?” Is his follow-up question.

“No, unfortunately. My mom was allergic to damn near everything.” You tell him. “You?”

“Yeah, we have a dog named Berry.”

“What breed?”

“She’s a Royal King Charles Spaniel.”

“Sounds pretentious. Do you have any pictures?” As soon as you ask the question, you second guess if you should have. What’s going to be pushing him or asking too much right now? But you shake the thought—you have to try to scale this wall of his. Or find a way around it. Or blow it up entirely.

He’s quiet for a moment, then the light from his phone illuminates his face again. He remains quiet as he’s scrolling through his phone. You push back your blankets and slowly make your way to him, not wanting to bump into anything. He looks up at you when you’re at the side of the bed and locks eyes with you for a moment. Should you not have come over?

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding when he scooches over the tiniest amount, and you feel like doing a cartwheel. You slide on the bed next to him, resting your head against the pillows next to his. Your body immediately feels on edge, being so close to him, in his bed…and not for sex. His freshly showered scent fills your senses, and you wish you could just cuddle against him. You have the urge to lay your head on his chest and breathe him in, but that would certainly be pushing it too far right now.

There’s a privacy screen on his phone so you can’t see anything until he turns it towards you. A photo of a happy Berry waiting to go on a walk stares back at you. She’s white and brown and looks oh so fluffy, you can imagine how the fur would feel beneath your fingers.

“Awww,” you say with a smile. “How old is she?”

“She’ll be eight in December.”

“She’s adorable,” you say.

“I know,” he says with a soft smile on his face as he looks at the photo, too. You can tell how much he cares for her.

You want to tell him that he’s full of surprises, that you would not have guessed he’d have so much love for a pet. That he is capable of such an emotion. But you’re happy to see it’s possible.

You turn on your side to face him, propping your head up with your hand.

“Chan?” You ask, eyeing him carefully.

“Hm?” He replies again.

“Thank you,” you say softly.

“For what?”

“For talking to me, for opening up a little.”

You’re treading carefully, not knowing if anything you say could make him resort back to his usual ways. You don’t want to make the wrong move. You can’t jeopardize this new territory you’re tiptoeing into with him.

“I should get some sleep,” you say, before he has a chance to reply. You slide out of his bed and return to your own. You don’t want him getting the wrong idea—yet. You want to initiate a closeness, and let him think you will ‘behave’ for the month. Let him think he’s trained you well.

“Y/N?” He calls when you’ve made it back to your bed.

“Yeah?” You pull the blankets up and snuggle into them.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Chan.”

For the first time, in this room, you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

a/n: sorry for the wait, and sorry it's shorter than normal. blame the twice concert for having me so distracted last week haha. anyways, y/n is moving into a new space with Chan that we've all wanted to see for a while. there will be more to come of this and, of course, Hyunjin getting rizzed up by y/n. more soon!

[ read chapter fourteen here ]

taglist: @iflmho / @stayatinykatsy / @blackhairandbangs / @ayoitschannie / @idunnomanmynamewastaken / @charmer-c / @ihatemen55 / @channniesslefttt / @jiwoos-babygirl / @krayzieestay / @kayleefriedchicken / @sunnyhonie / @cotton-candycloudz / @lubsungie / @conwunder / @puckmaidens / @ashleighland / @hyunjiinnnn / @bmnyy / @ihrtlix / @maqqiekwon / @teti-menchon0604 /@you-make-skz-stay / @zandra-42 / @seungminindabuilding / @slytherinatheart / @loveuwoo / @hyunjinhoexxx / @chartrucewhore / @torothecatt / @fun-fanfics / @yaorzu-blog / @yjeonginlvr / @tenshimara / @a-person-with-void / @ilovetheworldilivein / @dhillomilo / @skzfelixlove / @luvvvash / @blondechannie / @sailor--sun / @stephanieeeyang / @msauthor / @grlcbrd / @minnieprincess85 / @tiny-skidz

#stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids #bangchan fanfic #bang chan #skz x reader #skz x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan imagines #skz x y/n #bang chan x y/n #bang chan fanfic

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jsprnt · 2 months

Text

Americano PT. 1 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: part one is here, enjoy! <3

W/C: 3.398

Introduction

"Can you try smiling this time?"

I mumble, holding myself back from rolling my eyes in annoyance. I click my tongue, standing behind Luis, my close friend and cameraman.

"The photo needs to be edited later, for sure. Looks a little off compared to the others." I tell Luis, sending an insult to the man in front of the camera, in English for him to hear.

Even so, Luis and I usually spoke English to each other. It being a language we were both very well versed in.

Jude doesn't even look like he wants to be here, at all. He wouldn't be the only one, that was for sure.

"That's good enough, Bellingham. You can go." I say, folding my arms up to my chest.

"Finally." He mutters, rolling his eyes, the Brummie accent, which was quite new to me, rolling off his tongue.

He raises his hands, smoothing down his shirt, before nodding at Luis with a smile and leaving, not acknowledging me per usual.

"Douchebag." I mumble, solely for myself to hear, but I notice Luis glancing at me.

"What?" I ask, rolling the papers in my hands into a tube out of boredom. The letters curving with the bend of the paper.

"You two are becoming more insufferable every day." He says, going to wipe his camera lens with a microfiber cloth. He treated his cameras like his actual children.

"Not my fault." I reply through clenched teeth, placing a hand on my hip.

"You spilled an entire americano on his brand new, white kit. On his first day here." He says, recalling the embarrassing and aggravating incident.

"It was just an accident!" I retort, unfolding the papers again. "We could have moved on from that after I apologized, but he's decided to be an asshole about it."

So, who was the insufferable one here?

He doesn't say anything else, an uninterested sigh leaving his lips as he distracts himself with the lens.

I saw Luis as the older brother I never had, but he wasn't even taking my side in the situation.

Traitor.

I huff, turning away and looking around the pitch for some entertainment I could turn into content.

My eyes catch the players of the club warming up a couple meters away.

Easy content, my favorite.

"Can I get a camera?" I nudge Luis, his eyes looking up at mine.

"Should I trust you with one?" He says, voice unsure.

"Yes, just give me the smaller one." I usher, holding my hand out in anticipation.

He sighs again, grabbing the requested camera out of his equipment bag.

"Two hands." He mutters.

I roll my eyes, grabbing the camera with the apparently very necessary, two hands.

"I'll take care of your child." I mock, smile tugging at my lips as I see him get annoyed.

"Chill, I've got it." I add, walking away from him.

I was being serious, of course.

Firstly, I wanted these shots to come out perfectly. Secondly, I didn't want to get killed by him for ruining his precious camera. I had enough enemies in this club already. Losing an ally wasn't on my bingo list this season.

I turn the camera on clumsily, pointing it at the training players as I'm standing behind the goal.

How the hell does a small camera weigh this much? It genuinely felt like a bag of rocks weighing down on my arms.

I try to ignore the heaviness of the camera, filming the individual shooting of the players. Moving the camera when necessary.

I stand there for a moment, before I hear Luis come up to me, finally taking the camera out of my hands.

"How the hell do you even hold these cameras? My arm almost went numb." I say, rubbing my tired arm as I look at him.

"I go to the gym, unlike you- and I'm used to it by now." He replies, focusing on filming.

The urge to say something petty back is interrupted as Camavinga suddenly yells at us, our heads snapping up.

« Tu filmes? » are you filming?

He shouts in French, standing in his position.

I used to whine and complain about having to take French back in school, but now I was genuinely grateful for it. It was very useful now, even though I had forgotten a great chunk of it.

"Want us to?" I shout back in English, ignoring the fact that we are shouting back and forth like maniacs. He nods, giving us a thumbs up.

"Yeah, go ahead." I nudge Luis, making him film again. I grab him, making him take a step back for safety, watching Cama receive the ball and shoot, hitting the net perfectly.

I cheer quietly, not wanting to disturb the audio of the footage as he smiles back at me, walking back to stand and watch the other players.

I have been working in the marketing and PR department at Real Madrid for about two years now. The club and players were generally very nice to work with, which made my job so much better.

It wasn't my permanent job. I had just started my third year of my law degree this new school year, combining online classes with this job. Balancing did get difficult at times, but I liked the fact that it kept me busy and motivated.

"Think we're good to go." Luis says, interrupting my thoughts as he points his camera downward.

"You sure?" I ask, whipping my head around.

"Yeah, the sun is about to melt us and the camera. Come on, let's go inside." He says, grabbing my wrist and dragging me away from the pitch

"If you read this sentence, does it sound like I know what I'm talking about?" I ask Lina, her face scrunching up almost instantly.

I was confident enough to write this essay on my own, really, but having a friend keep me company made it way more fun.

"You know I don't like thinking about school. That's in the past for me." She says, her hands coming up in front of her defensively.

"Come on, please? I'll grab a drink for you in a minute." I beg, placing my hands on her shoulders, shaking her back and forth.

"Make it two."

"Deal."

"Okay, show me." She says, shoving a piece of pineapple into her mouth, grabbing my laptop and leaning forward as I repeat the question.

She types away for a second, adding a few words before turning to me after reading the sentence again.

"What are you writing? The damn Magna Carta? What kind of essay is this?" She asks, her eyebrows raised.

"It's about EU law." I sigh, I liked this subject, it was very interesting, but I couldn't wait to be done with this fifteen page essay.

"Explains a lot." She says, shoving another piece of fruit into her mouth. Her fork suddenly appearing in front of my face, a piece of watermelon spiced onto it.

"Thanks." I mutter, biting off the piece of fruit as I hear commotion in the hallways.

"Get me my drinks, please?" She asks, blinking at me. I roll my eyes, push my laptop back and get up.

"Let me guess, a lime soda and an orange juice?"

"You got it." She winks, smiling at me.

I chuckle at her, looking up as I watch the players pile into the cafeteria.

"Lunchtime?" I mouth at Lina, she checks the time on her phone, nodding.

I make my way to the bar, extending my arms up to grab two cups. The feeling of someone's hand on mine catching me off guard as I immediately let go of the cup. Turning around to see Jude right behind me.

"What are you doing?" I ask, sending him a nasty look. Invading my personal space wasn't enough, now he wants to steal my cup?

"Grabbing a cup?" He retorts in a menacing tone, sending a glare back.

I look at him, watching him fill his stolen cup with water, before he looks at me again.

"What?"

"Can you move?" I ask through gritted teeth, motioning to him how he's basically entrapping me in between the counter and himself.

He looks at me for a second as if to provoke me more, finally stepping away when I sigh.

I scoff, rolling my eyes and extend my arm to grab another cup apart from the one I already had.

I give him another nasty look, before filling both cups up and finally leaving his vicinity.

"Don't spill it on anyone." He says, mocking tone clear as day.

I turn again, fighting the urge to throw the precious orange juice into his annoying face before sighing and walking away.

"Hope he chokes on his water." I mutter, finally putting the two cups down on the table, in front of Lina.

"What was that back there? Another one of your tantrums?"

"No, his tantrum after he couldn't grab another cup, other than the one my hand was already on."

She chuckles, and I send her a slight glare, trying to delve back into my essay.

I was maybe halfway through already, having to hand it in next week. I might have procrastinated a little, but one thing about me was that I'll always get it done on time. No matter what.

Though, as I keep reading the word vomit I had written, I feel a wave of annoyance flow through me. I grunt, putting my face flat on the table.

Two more years, then I could finally do my specialization. Two more years.

"What's gotten into her?" I hear, recognizing Luis' voice. Then I hear a shift of the chair across from me as he sits down with- probably a tray of food.

"Essay." I hear Lina mumble, a hum coming from Luis in acknowledgment.

"Are you still not done with that essay? You got it assigned like three weeks ago." He says in a nagging tone.

I groan, remembering that I said that I wouldn't procrastinate this school year. Past me definitely hated the present me, and for sure hated future me even more if I kept this up.

I raise my head, huffing before sitting up straight. I blink a couple times to clear my vision and start to vigorously type again.

"Have you guys seen the final edit for tomorrow's match?" Luis says, covering his full mouth with his hand.

"No, who approved it?" I ask confused, glancing at the both of them and returning my gaze to my screen.

"Valeria did." He says. I look at him for a moment, scrunching my eyebrows together.

"Not surprised." I mutter, taking a sip of my coffee.

"Speaking of the devil." Lina says, and my eyes immediately dart around the room to find the devil in question.

She's staring right at our table, making a beeline towards us as the clicks of her heels get louder and louder.

Please don't sit here.

She gives us a painfully fake smile, swinging the iPad in her hand back and forth.

"Have you guys seen the edit I approved?"

Not even a hello?

"No, we haven't." Lina answers, and I stare at Valeria as she unfortunately sits across from me.

She chuckles, practically shoving the IPad in our faces, showing off the edit.

"It's perfect, isn't it?" She chuckles again, and I fight the urge to cover my ears instead of hearing her ear deafening, high-pitched laughter.

"It's alright." I say, giving her a smile. My opinion really didn't matter to her anyway, the least I could do was pretend to like it.

She nods, suddenly looking directly at me, glancing down at my laptop.

"Still working on school? Can't even think of how someone like you can balance it with this busy job." She says, smile pulling at her lips.

I raise my brows, looking at Lina and Luis for confirmation of what I had just heard her say.

They give me the same 'what the fuck' look, and I look back at Valeria, giving her a fake smile.

"I'm sure you couldn't think of it, Valeria." I say, keeping my retort minimal, I had to keep it professional, unlike her.

She looks at me, no words are exchanged further as an almost minute long silence follows.

She finally decides to leave after, sending both Luis and Lina a wave, doing her best to ignore me further.

"She's so weird. Always on my ass about something." I mutter, starting to type again.

"Don't think she's gotten over the fact that you were chosen to travel with the team this season." Lina says, patting my shoulder.

"Well, too bad for her. Like I've got time for her petty conversations."

If I was being honest; I couldn't stand being within five meters of her. And with the amount of meetings we had together, made life a little more difficult than I would've liked.

"Besides, you're coming with me. Why isn't she on your ass as well?" I ask Luis, seeing him shrug.

"Because I'm handsome?" He smirks, starting to flex his arms.

"She's annoying, but she doesn't have a vision problem." I hear Lina say, the both of us bursting out in laughter. Luis looking at us with the most defeated look ever, making us laugh even louder.

"Okay, alright, sorry. You're very handsome, we're just having a little fun. I promise." I say patting his hand, holding back more laughter as I dab away moisture from my eyes.

I finish typing my current chapter after calming down, observing the text, and double saving the document before turning my laptop off. I look around for a second, seeing the players and staff chat and laugh together. The buzzing of my phone redirecting my attention back to our table.

"y/n- your phone." Lina says, grabbing it to hand it to me.

I grab it after thanking her, reading the caller ID.

"Oh, it's my dad." I mutter. "I'll be back in a minute." I say, standing up to walk out of the cafeteria. I look around for a moment, then slide my finger to the right to pick up the call.

"Dad?"

"y/n, how's work going?" He says, the sound of a paper shredder in the background almost sabotaging my understanding of his sentence.

"Good, we're having lunch. How about you?" I reply, leaning against the wall.

"Same old. I called to tell you- I'm not having dinner at home tonight. Ask Carmen to make something you want to eat."

I hold back a sigh, closing my eyes in annoyance. He'd been working a lot since I was little, day and night. It had paid off very well. We had a big house and a beautiful backyard. He owned a law firm, in a nice area of the city and had a lot of clients.

His firm was also the legal representative of the club, being very close with President Pérez and manager Ancelotti themselves and other higher ups.

Of course, I was still thankful, I never had to worry about necessities like food and clothes, they were always provided for me on a silver spoon.

"Alright dad. See you tonight, love you."

I hang up, shoving my phone into my back pocket, and walk back into the cafeteria.

"I'm going back to the office." I tell Lina and Luis, them looking up at me in concern.

"Why? Did something happen?" Luis asks, fixing his dark, curly hair.

"No, I just want to make sure everything is perfect for tomorrow." I force a smile, trying to cover up the fact that my mood was definitely ruined after that phone call.

I grab my laptop, holding it in between my arm and chest as I start making my way out of the cafeteria.

Not before I'm stopped by someone calling out to me.

"y/n!" I hear, looking up and seeing Vini call me over, Rodrygo and sadly, Jude standing next to him.

How did this communication even work?

I raise a brow, walking over to them.

"What's with that face? Trouble with your boyfriend?" Vini says in Spanish, greeting me with a hug.

"It's nothing like that! It was just my dad." I deny, laughing at him. My smile totally disappearing from my face when I make accidental eye contact with an irritated looking Jude next to Vini.

"Right, how's your dad? He hasn't been around lately." Rodrygo asks, greeting me as well.

"Busy- you know how he is..." I reply, swatting my hand. "I'll try to convince him to visit." I smile.

"Will you be coming with us to tomorrow's match?" Vini asks.

"Oh yeah, I'll be joining you on all the matches this season. You guys got lucky this time." I joke, giving him a little wink.

The two Brazilian men laugh, Vini patting my shoulder as I excuse myself to go up.

I twist the key in the door lock, opening the front door to my house. The smell of spices and sauces filling up my nostrils. I scramble to take my shoes off, throwing my bag onto the floor and making a beeline to the kitchen area.

"Aunty Carmen!" I exclaim, hugging her tightly.

"Oh my girl!" She coos, squeezing me even tighter.

"I missed you so much." I say, planting a kiss on her soft cheek, letting go of her.

"Me too. Come on, get cleaned up and we'll have dinner." She says warmly, going back to stirring the food.

Aunty Carmen was the lady who had been cooking for me and my dad since I was a child. Her food was finger-licking good, and I don't think I could ever survive without it.

She'd partially raised me, alongside my biological aunt, whom I lived in the UK with for a couple of years.

I had begged my dad to not send me to a boarding school, so he'd decided to send me off to live with my aunt, and made me attend an international school instead. A place, consisting of cultures and languages I always craved to be surrounded with becoming my second home.

"When is your dad coming?"

"Oh no, my dad isn't coming for dinner." I explain, pulling out two spoons and two forks out of the cabinet and walking over to the dinner table.

"He wasn't home last time either, why?"

"Too busy. You know how he is." I mumble, filling her glass with water.

"I'm sorry, my girl."

"It's fine- I'm used to it by now. You're here tonight at least." I beam, starting to dig into the food.

"Aunty, you never disappoint!" I exclaim, shoving another spoonful of food into my mouth.

"Slow down! It's not going to run away from you." She fusses, taking a bite of the food herself.

A comfortable silence falls in between us, the sound of our utensils clattering against the plates and bowls accompanied by the occasional comment about the taste of the food.

I join her in cleaning up the table, placing the rinsed dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and putting the leftovers into the fridge.

"If you look closely, you can see the food I made for the rest of the week. Make sure you close the lids well, so it can stay fresh." She says, drying her wet hands on a kitchen towel.

"Thank you." I say, giving her another hug.

"Oh, you're leaving already?" I ask, watching her grab her handbag. It was a pretty brown bag, a birthday present from me a couple years ago.

"I do sweetie. Take care of yourself." She says, pulling me into a hug.

"-and lock your doors, don't open them for anyone."

"You know I'm not a child anymore. I'm twenty already! Besides, we have security cameras everywhere." I complain, folding my arms up to my chest.

"You've grown up too fast." She says, pinching the fat of my cheek, making me whine at the pain.

I sigh, a little sad as she opens the front door and walks out. I wave one more time, closing the door behind her and locking it as she had instructed.

My dad had keys to get in when I went to bed anyway.

I decide to get ready for bed, turning on the now full dishwasher, and going up to my room. Hoping everything will go smoothly as planned tomorrow.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #real madrid fc #jude bellingham fanfic #footballer x reader #football imagines #football fanfic #football imagine #bellingham x reader #real madrid

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calisources · 7 months

Text

IN LOVE AND WAR, EVERYTHING GOES. a sentence meme based around the subject of allies, enemies, war and enemies to lovers and more of the same tropes we all love. change pronouns, names and locations as you see fit. these are all scrambled around.

“Friends ask you questions; enemies question you.”

“You can live safe and be protected by people just like you, or you can stand up and be a leader for what is right.”

“Where do we find allies?"

“War created bizarre allies, while peace itself could be divisive.”

“I promise you, nothing will happen to you.”

“I choose my allies carefully and my enemies more carefully still.”

“People fight wars over ideas.”

“Wars begin when you will, but they do not end when you please.”

“I was raised in hatred, Roma. I could never be your lover, only your killer.”

“We were enemies, no matter the truths. No matter that I loved him.”

“He’d set fire to the world around him but never let a flame touch her.”

“She's not the type to swoon for pretty lies.”

“The feud keeps taking and hurting and killing and still I couldn't stop loving you even when I thought I hated you.”

“These violent delights have violent ends."

“Men without morals are dangerous beasts.”

“The spiteful, little stars.”

“Death is real. Death is inevitable. Death comes when you're not ready for it. Be ready.”

“I was alive, but I wasn’t living. You took things from me. My soul―my heart.”

“You’re supposed to keep your enemies close. Therefore, it stands to reason that your sworn enemy should be kept closest.”

“When will you see I'm not your enemy, but your weapon. Wield me.”

“Can’t even get out of my grasp? Or is it because you secretly don’t want to?”

“Why are you confessing all of your crimes?”Are you trying to get hit?”

“You're a hero and I'm a monster. There's only one way that story ever ends.”

"Tell me you came to find me. That you changed your mind."

"How--how can you even say such things,on an evening you are meant to choose another as your bride?"

"My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned."

"I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.”

“The road for hell for me is paved with everything I would do for you, and that list never ends.”

“You have consumed my thoughts since the moment I met you."

“You have no idea what I could give you."

“If you mean to take me captive, you need only ask. I would come willingly.”

“I see you truly for everything you are and everything you will be and I claim you as mine.”

“I don't think I've ever met anyone as vexing as you."

“Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.”

“A wise man gets more use from his enemies than a fool from his friends.”

"We're on opposite sides, you know."

"You're the one claiming we're all villains. There's no black or white, only gray area. We can coexist somewhere in the middle, can't we?”

“A man with no enemies is a man with no character.”

“I smile to myself knowing that they may be dead.”

“I like your savage brutality."

"That's a poetic observation, coming from such a savage creature.”

"And you are mine, Victor Nox. whether you agree is irrelevant.”

“Bitter people are not interested in what you say, but what you hide.”

“Enemies can't break your spirit, only friends can.”

“In order to know your enemy, you must become your enemy.”

“Such a pretty face, but so weak and emotional. Just a regular man, after all.”

#rp meme #sentence #sentences memes #sentence meme #rp resources #rp prompt #prompts #writing prompts #roleplay memes #roleplay meme

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buckybarnesb-tch · 9 months

Note

Hiii! I was wondering if u could do a royalty au with the yandere Mikaelsons! It can either be human or vampire but like image THE AESTHETICS OF IT!! And can u somehow include rebekah as well!! I can leave the rest of the plot up to u or if u want I can also send ideas :)

I Don’t Want a Crown -Klaus M.

For something like this I could see going vampire but no, I’m going human on this. I’m excited to try it out!

Your father thought it was an insult.

You were your fathers youngest daughter, the only one currently unmarried as he had married off your sisters already to make necessary alliances. The Mikaelson family was a very powerful ally, they were close with the king and queen but your father only wanted you to be married to the eldest, Elijah. Elijah however is already betrothed.

Elijah was happy to marry you to his younger brother, Niklaus, who you hadn’t met but you had heard some truly horrific stories of him beheading and gutting his enemies.

Your father dismissed you so that he could talk to Elijah alone and you happily exited the stuffy room, exploring the castle before making your way outside. You were enjoying the overcast sky before coming across a man leaning against a tree and seemingly sketching something in a book. You paused as you walked passed him to look and see him drawing an image of your horse that was by the stables.

‘That’s very good…are you an artist or something?’ You questioned and he paused to look down at you before smiling.

‘Or something, it’s a nice hobby. I’m glad you like it. I’m Nik, lovely to meet you.’ He took your hand, kissing your knuckle softly and bowing as he did which made you smile. Many men that greeted you didn’t think they had to bow to anyone but your parents, this man was a stranger and showing you more respect than your regular suitors.

‘I’m Y/n, it’s a pleasure. Well, I’m sorry to have bothered you Nik.’ You turned to walk away when he quickly fell into step beside you.

‘I can’t leave a beautiful girl to walk alone now can I? What kind of a man would I be?’ He held out his arm and you took it as you walked through the gardens. ‘So, why are you taking a stroll alone on such a dreary day?’

‘Oh I love days like these, and I love walking in the rain…much to my fathers dismay but that somehow makes it better.’ You teased and he seemed to like it. ‘Rainy days are the best kind. And I suppose I needed to get away. My father has been trying to marry me off to some rich family, though which one is anyone’s guess. It’s exhausting meeting potential husbands every day, and not one of them actually interested in meeting me. Just my father because it’s his choice and I will do what I’m told. Then I’ll get married to a man who is cold and cruel and just as happy to make me do what I’m told. I’m not ignorant enough to think I should be free to fall in love, the world isn’t that kind but shouldn’t we at least like each other? I don’t want to become my sister, married to a man who beats her with only the intention of filling her with a son…and now I’m ranting my problems to a stranger who only asked about the weather. I’m so sorry Nik-‘

‘I asked why you were walking, you answered. And I don’t think it’s an outrageous request to want to get along or a husband who will not beat you. A man should respect his wife, she is the one who will raise his children and give him a happy home to come back to every day, warm his bed yes but that should be more than one sided as well.’ You tried to hide your blush at the topic but he definitely noticed. ‘You’re a lovely women. You should be taken care of, and regardless of what a man is like with other men he should be a gentleman with his family. I’m sure your husband will prove to be a good man, at least to you.’ You smiled at that, his optimism being refreshing.

‘It’s a nice sentiment, though the man my father is meeting with now is trying to marry me off to an apparent madman. Of course those are just rumors, everyone deserves a fair chance.’ He looked stunned by your words as you sat yourself on the rock wall overlooking the ocean. It’s where you came to read often, it was peaceful and you loved watching the waves when it stormed.

‘You have a refreshing outlook on life. I like how sweet you are Y/n. Any man should be honored to have you, I know I would be.’ He sat beside you, kissing your hand once again, his blue eyes being the kind you want to get lost in for hours.

‘Well, I’m an optimist I guess. Besides, it’s not just him that’s a possibility. My father is meeting with someone else today, I suppose he feels slighted that I’ve been offered a second son, dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life but my father is nothing if not sensitive.’ You joked and while he laughed he looked…angry? He hid it quickly before standing and holding out his hand.

‘We should get you inside, it’s going to rain any second Princess.’ He walked you back to the castle in silence and while it wasn’t uncomfortable, you felt the need to ask as you got inside.

‘Have I offended you? If I have, you have my sincerest apologies my Lord, I don’t-‘

‘Nonsense! You have done nothing of the sort.’ He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and the way he looked at you was so…heavy. ‘Now, you go get yourself warmed up and dressed for dinner. I’m sure I will see you again in a bit.’ With that he bowed and was gone, leaving you to realize how late it really was and rush to get ready for dinner.

When you arrived you were greeted by your mother as your father spoke to a man who must be in his early 40s. Very close to his age at least. ‘Y/n, your father has invited both of your suitors, Lord Aslan and Lord Mikaelson to dinner tonight. He would like to speak with both of them freely and see which is the best match, please be on your best behavior?’ Your mother begged.

‘Please tell me that old man is my suitors father?’ Your mother looked at you with hard eyes and you knew to shut up as you all sat down to eat.

‘Should we wait for the Mikaelson’s?’ Your mother asked and father rolled his eyes.

‘Can’t even be on time for a potential alliance. How disgraceful.’ Lord Aslan spoke and now you rolled your eyes.

‘Apologies my Lord, my brother has had to leave, our sister is having a bit of trouble. I’m sorry for my tardiness.’ You know that voice.

‘We can understand that. Young women are a handful, I should know, my wife gave me 5.’ Everyone knows your father hates that your mother gave him so many girls before a boy but he still brings it up. You looked up to see Nik sitting in the chair across from you and smiled politely, but you’re sure he could see it didn’t reach your eyes. ‘Gentlemen, this is my daughter Y/n.’ You waved politely, Nik smiling while the man beside your father leered at you.

‘The pleasure is mine Princess.’ Lord Mikaelson greeted, the other man laughing suddenly and gaining everyone’s attention.

‘She’s not a Princess. A Lady, maybe, and a lovely one at that.’ You cringed, taking a drink from your cup and trying to ignore his eyes on you.

‘Every women should be treated as a Princess by her husband. Do you not agree my Lord? I’ve met many Princesses, they don’t hold a candle to you Darling.’ The blush is back and this time you can’t even pretend to hide it.

‘Thank you my Lord, you are sweet.’

The rest of dinner was your father speaking to Lord Aslan while he leered at you and you spoke to Nik back and forth, finding the rumors about him to be insane. He couldn’t hurt a fly. Or so you thought.

After they had left and you were getting ready for bed your father knocked on your door, letting himself in with a stern look on his face. ‘You behaved very rudely at dinner. You didn’t once try to speak to Lord Aslan.’

‘He was staring at my chest all night and he didn’t speak to me either, just you. He wants me to be his wife and doesn’t even want to know anything about me? No thank you. Besides, I loved speaking with Niklaus, he was sweet and he wanted to know me. I would much rather-‘ you were about to finish when your father cut you off with a hand around your throat, eyes angry and determined.

‘You think I care what you want? Your opinion means nothing to me child, it’s the men that matter and I will not be offended by being offered a second son for my youngest girl. I’m being given land and an army by Lord Aslan, plus a dowry that is worth much more than you. You’ll make yourself happy where ever I put you like a good daughter and a good wife! You are set to marry Lord Aslan in a fort night. That is all I will hear on the matter.’ When he stopped speaking he finally allowed you to breathe, pulling his hand away and watching you collapse to the floor, gasping for air. ‘Sleep daughter. You have lunch with your husband tomorrow and you must be presentable.’ With that he was gone and you were left alone to change into your night gown, holding a cold compress to the quickly forming bruises on your throat.

You were in too much pain to relax and sleep, every time you moved your neck or swallowed pain shot through your throat and didn’t leave you with the ability to get comfortable. You had finally given up trying and ended up on the loveseat with a book and an inability to stop the tears despite your pain. You were going to spend the rest of your life with a man who doesn’t care for you at all. Niklaus would move on and find a new wife, some lucky girl to have a good husband and a good life and you hate her. You were trying to calm yourself when you heard a knock on your French doors making you look up before it happened again. Quickly you wiped your face before moving to the doors to see a familiar face, waving casually.

‘What are you doing?’ You asked, opening the doors and allowing him to slip in and watching as he looked around your plain room.

‘I am to be your husband, I’m allowed to see my wife, aren’t I? I want to get to know you better before-we…why are you crying?’ You quickly wiped your face again and he stopped you, taking your hands in his and brushing the tears away.

‘Niklaus, you have to go. You can’t be here-‘

‘I will not have you cry, why are you upset, I can-‘

‘You can’t fix it! You are not going to be my husband! I told you, I’m not going to be married to a second son and what I want doesn’t matter! You need to leave, please? You’ll be killed if you’re found in here!’ You pushed at his chest but he didn’t budge, pulling you close and tilting your head up, inspecting the bruises on your neck gently. ‘My Lord-‘

‘Husband.’ He cut you off, clearly angry but not acting on it. ‘I’m sorry if you got confused Princess, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, your father seems to want to irritate me. There was no chance of any other man marrying you, I have already decided that you’re mine. You are not to worry about that, do you understand?’ He asked it so softly you felt like you were dreaming.

‘But my father-‘

‘Do. You. Understand?’ His eyes were a stormy blue, like a raging sea, impossible to tame but he never once made you feel like you were in danger with him.

‘I understand. But my father will never agree. He’s stubborn and cruel-‘

‘You haven’t seen cruel Princess…and you never will. I promise you that. And this-‘ he touched your neck softly, his eyes hardening when he looked at the bruises. ‘This will never happen to you again. Not in this lifetime, you are my wife, my Princess to protect and no one will ever harm you. No one will get close enough to try. Tomorrow you’ll go about your day like normal and not speak a word of this, then you will get the news that you are being married to me. Now come, Princess’ need sleep.’ He suddenly lifted you into his arms and carried you to your bed, tucking you into the blankets and holding your hand.

‘I can’t sleep. My neck hurts and I-‘

‘Shh.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle, reaching up to open your mouth and you didn’t fight him as he pored it onto your tongue, making you swallow. ‘Now relax, you’ll sleep just fine my darling. Don’t you worry about that.’ He pressed your hand to his face, kissing your palm and sighing, his stubble scratching your hand roughly. As he began standing your eyes fell, heavy with sleep and you felt a kiss on your cheek before you fell asleep.

You slept well into the next day and you were awoken by a maid just before lunch, helping you into a dress that covered the marks on your neck. You went to the gardens for your lunch but Lord Aslan never showed up.

Your father was furious for the rest of the day and you didn’t see him at dinner but your mother told you that he was in a meeting. Walking back to your bedroom that night you turned to see familiar blue eyes looking down at you, waiting outside your door. ‘Nik?’

‘Hello my darling wife.’ He pulled you close to his chest and into your room, the door shutting behind him. ‘Our wedding will be held in 2 days time, everything is being taken care of, you won’t have to lift one little finger. I want you to have the best wedding day ever.’

You pulled back, looking up at him confused. ‘I’m engaged already, he told me-‘

‘Your father is an idiot, and he knew not to cross me yet he did so anyway after finding out that I wanted you as my wife. That’s his problem. The other…I hesitate to call him a man, isn’t an issue anymore. He was found dead in his home this morning for looking at things that didn’t belong to him.’ You stared up at him in shock, not sure what to do. ‘I told you, I like how sweet you are and any man should feel honored to have you. I do, and I always will. I will protect my sweet girl until my dying day, and not once will your innocent eyes be forced to see anything even resembling violent. I know I’m not the best man, but I will take care of you love, and I will love you for the rest of eternity…do you want to be mine?’

You didn’t know what to say to that. ‘I’m already yours-‘

‘I will see to it that you live like a nun for the rest of your life if that’s what you choose, but I would much prefer you be mine. I love you Y/n, but it’s your choice.’ His honesty spoke volumes and I nodded my head without hesitation.

‘Yes. I want to be your wife…I love you too Nik.’

Klaus was the best husband she could have ever dreamed of and he was true to his word, she never saw any violence…even when she ordered it.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

I Don’t Want a Crown Moodboard

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randoimago · 4 months

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For bg3, could I request platonic Wyll, Astarion, Gale, and Lae'zel finding a Tav that's quietly breaking down from all the pressure of having to save and comfort people all the time. Like they want to help people, but it's becoming too much for them.

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Astarion, Gale, Lae'zel, Wyll

Note(s): They all need therapy after this, but idk if therapy exists in D&D so give them spa days and alcohol instead

Astarion

As someone that voices his complaints easily once he's become close enough to let you in on his secrets, he also knows when the feelings are being buried away. While he doesn't want to tell you what to do, he does pull you aside when you're back at camp to exchange supplies.

Saving people and being a hero has never been something for him, mostly because he never had someone to save him. Until you came around, that is. And he thanks you for that, but you need to stop putting so much on your shoulders. You want to save people? Well you won't be able to do that if you collapse.

You've been a good friend to him, so let him do the same to you. Take a fucking break. Break into that newspaper building and change the article to something ridiculous. Do something for yourself. Astarion is more than happy to introduce you to some of his more fun morally grey activities just to get everything off of your mind. He has dealt with the aftermath of being burnt out and wasting away because bottling your emotions becomes too much, he won't see the same happening to you.

Gale

Notices you looking tired and suggests a break. He'll always be happy to lend and ear and offer some words of wisdom. Mostly, let yourself rest. You're already doing a lot and you should find a nice book and lay down in your tent for a bit to destress.

While Gale is trying to have his morals in the right place, he also knows not everyone can or deserves to be saved. It's valiant of you to try and offer help to anyone you can, but he can see the toll it's taking on you mentally, emotionally, and physically. Honestly, Faerun is a big place, let some other adventurers lend their help, you deserve some wine.

It's a shame that Magnificent Mansion or Tiny Hut aren't spells you can get in game, but Gale would happily cast Magnificent Mansion for you to just have an impromptu spa day. It's what you deserve for being his greatest friend and for all that you do for others.

Lae'zel

She knows being a leader is hard and there are many challenges you must step up to. People will constantly seek your help and look to you for advice. She has seen it by many of her githyanki superiors and thought nothing of it. And then she finds you cracking.

Tells you that as a leader, you can't show your cracks or you'll be seen as vulnerable to enemy attacks. While at camp, rest as much as you need. She'll keep watch while you let out whatever emotions that you need to.

Will also remind you, that you're her leader. You don't lead all the people you come across on the road, you owe them nothing. Technically, you owe Lae'zel nothing as well, you have the freedom to choose what to do, morals be damned.

Wyll

He notices the cracks and he fully understands. Hell, he sold his soul to a devil because he was failing. You're allowed to break down. You're allowed to rest.

While Wyll, likes the idea of helping anyone in need, even he knows that it can be too much. A lot has happened to all of you in a very short span of time, he understands needing to rest.

He considers you a good friend and ally and if you'd allow him, he'd be glad to take the lead and let you rest. He can at least listen to those you come across and offer them comfort if you're too drained to do so.

Taglist:

@reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

#Anonymous #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion x reader #bg3 gale x reader #gale x reader #gale dekarios x reader #lae'zel x reader #bg3 lae'zel x reader #wyll x reader #wyll ravenguard x reader #bg3 wyll x reader

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tremendum · 4 days

Text

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:

Me and the Devil; prelude

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:

word count: 0.4k

summary: Paul becomes betrothed. You are ripped from your nest of darkness and shipped to a new world.

warnings: arranged marriage, mention of reader's family's assassinations.

notes: here's the prologue to my series from AO3 :') this has my own twist that will not follow canon. this is an endgame paul x reader, but will def have elements of feyd x reader mostly in flashbacks (i have a sickness im sorry he just Does It For Me). smut after several chapters, and very plot heavy. <3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:

In a shocking show of mercy, the High Council of the Landsraad has decreed the pardon of the last Bourbon:

After a month-long raid at the home planet Sabberon, the House of Bourbon has been eliminated, the Duchal family sentenced to death at the Harko Arena on Giedi Prime. The counter-insurgent attacks by House Harkkonen have been ruled by the Council as 'Penitent Crimes of Retaliation' following the damning allegations of espionage and theft of Harkonnen technology.

The House of Bourbon is succeeded only by the sole heiress and last daughter of the Count, whose betrothal to the na-Baron of House Harkonnen has been abruptly terminated by the High Court of the Landsraad.

The daughter, who carries the bloodline of both house Bourbon and House Ginaz, has by decree of the High Council of Landsraad been pardoned of the Harkkonen order of political imprisonment. The arraignment is set for a few weeks' time.

As once-standing political allies to the House Atreides, she is to be wed to the son of Duke Leto Atreides by the closing of the standard year.

- Collected Galactic News report sent to Duke Leto Atreides, 10191. Caladan.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:

A muffled crash of falling plates somewhere in the castle rolls through the dampened halls. Paul doesn't bat an eye.

Servants pass by the corridors, carrying dishes, plates, crates filled to their brim. A celebration had been planned with the news of Duncan's return; a homecoming, an acceptance. From one Great House to another; but something has changed now. Something is much different than it should have been.

He knew there was something wrong when he was woken by his mother earlier than expected; No breakfast, no training, no lessons. He saw it on the faces that stared at him when he passed on his way here - the handmaids and servants whispered secretively in the halls.

And he knows it from the message his father has discarded, still open, on the desk in front of him; stamped by the High Council's signet.

The rain mars the windows outside as Paul Atreides stands, shellshocked, in his ceremonial uniform. If the raindrops were any louder, they may have drowned out the rapid stagger of his breath at the news.

"Married?"

The solemn faces stare back at Paul. "Yes." Lady Jessica affirms, eyes cool as she stares at her son.

He blinks away the shock, eyes flickering to the men in the room. "I thought Duncan was returning with the Count Bourbon and his family." Paul's brows furrow as he stares from Gurney to his father, confusion lacing his body. "Where is this coming from?"

A silence that is as tense as it is regretful.

"Their house has fallen. Duncan Idaho returns from Geidi Prime this evening."

Blood drains from Paul's face, his heart thumping. Why was Duncan returning from Geidi Prime - not the Bourbon's homeplanet, Sabberon? When the Swordsman had been deployed, there was not even a whisper or a word of marriage - not a single consideration of betrothal. He'd been told the expedition was to aid an old ally against the oldest foe Atreides has; The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

What a foolish thing to think.

"I am to be wed to..." Paul starts, but his sentence is interrupted by a choking of his own saliva - if he is to be wed, and his bride comes with Duncan... rage boils within.

Wed, to one of those monsters from Geidi Prime? Anger, hatred; it wars within him, turning up his stomach and burning the bile that rises.

He swallows thickly, schooling his expression. He's known this would happen eventually - to be a future Duke is to understand from a young age that marriage is not for love. It is for the good of the House, of their people.

Yes, he's always expected to marry out of convenience, out of strategy. But to be wed to... to...

"A Harkkonen?" Paul growls. The name spits from his mouth bitterly; Lost momentarily to his emotions, his sharp eyes cut to his father.

A slight tilt of the head, Leto Atreides declines the accusation of his son. "no."

A breath falls from Paul's lips.

"She is not a Harkkonen. She has resided there for nearly four years - she was to be wed to the Baron's nephew."

There's another silence, in which the rain slides down glass panes like tears.

"She's one of Idaho's." Halleck says off-handedly, shifting weight. Paul, in turn, stares at the man. His head swims in anger, confusion, shock. What does that mean?

Paul's bewildered stare must reflect poorly; his father sighs. "Her mother was the middle youngest of the House Ginaz. Duncan Idaho trained with her mother and father., it's why he insisted to go to Geidi Prime - she is the last of the House Bourbon."

Oh. Paul nods, clearing his throat. "And as part of the council's rulings..." His head hurts, heart racing, "Now, we will marry."

"We believe it is for the best. She was nothing but a political prisoner." Duke Leto reasons, his own decision raining down onto Paul's shoulders. "She is still close with her aunt, the concubine of Duke Ginaz. We need their alliance; it's strategic."

The council of Houses Major, choosing to whom Paul is to marry; what a twisted fate. Bitterness floods his mouth, made worse when his own Lady Mother speaks up. "The Reverend Mother finds it pertinent-"

But Paul doesn't hear much after this, besides the ringing in his ears. Your name echoes in his mind like a bell chiming in an empty hall; a plant of the Bene Gesserit.

All part of their political stratagem, and he, in the center of it; to be wed to a woman who was made for another. To be wed to one of the Harkonnen's beasts.

He meets his father's eyes, and they warn him.

Don't push it. What's done is done.

#paul atreides x you #paul atreides smut #paul atreides x reader #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #dune fanfiction #dune smut #me and the devil; series

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izvmimi · 11 months

Text

daddy's home (2) - izuku x reader

cw: MINORS DNI, noncon/dubcon, horror themes, you and izuku have a child, parental dynamics, manipulation, villain!deku, yandere!deku, violence, fem!reader summary: izuku tries to make amends with his family after his absence. (~3.4k words) a/n: reposted. part 1 here.

As you continue to hear his footsteps approach, the dreadful sound amplified by genuine fear of your partner, you think wistfully of the past.

Clearly, it hadn’t always been like this. Izuku, at his core, was someone sweet - bashful, kind, protective… not whatever monster was marching through your home this very second, causing your mind to race as you thought frantically of ways to protect your daughter. That was your first priority.

But he wouldn’t hurt his daughter, right? That’s where he would draw the line, no matter how altered his thoughts concerning allies versus enemies had become over time. And even if now you had drawn a clear line in the sand, you’d like to think that he wouldn’t hurt you - he hadn’t ever threatened to hurt you, now had he? He’d only given you warnings, reminding you that turning against him wouldn’t be in your best interest. After all, according to him, he’s the only one who really cares for your well-being. That’s why he married you, right?

“I... I think all of this is excessive,” you mumble to Mei as she demonstrates the security upgrades to your home. Iida shakes his head almost furiously, and seems to double and triple-check his wife’s work and potential blind spots, peering at new cameras shoved in the corners where the ceilings meet and laser tripwires invisible to the naked eye. There’s a panic device in the hallway between the kitchen and one of the living rooms hidden behind a wedding picture where both of your smiles are radiant enough to be blinding. The fact that it’s come to this makes your stomach turn.

“In all honesty, there’s a good chance it might not be enough,” Mei admits, and the fact that for once she realistically communicates her own engineering limitations underlines how grave the situation is. If even she is admitting that she’s not infallible, that means your situation is bad.

What is he, God? You think bitterly, but resign yourself to saying nothing. You are not too distraught to accept kindness from your friends.

Bakugou, for example, now texts you every morning, a simple two words.

You good?

While you understand and appreciate where he’s coming from, every time you see those words, you can feel yourself losing your patience. If you could have your husband back, you’d be great. Fantastic even! You’d always texted back the same thing, in different variations -

Yeah, thanks for checking!

He never responded after that. It wasn’t that he didn’t care; it’s that he still did not want to entertain the idea that his friend had gone off the deep end for too long.

It’s hard for everyone, not just your family, you have to remember.

You can hear Izuku’s steps almost right outside your door, the pace almost synchronous with the pounding in your heart. There’s no use in hiding anymore. Steeling your resolve, you hold your slumbering daughter close for a moment, and kiss her forehead.

“Mommy loves you,” you whisper. She doesn’t stir, and you wonder what it is to be a child again, safe and naive and uncorrupted by circumstance.

And then you tumble out of the room to face him.

—

He stands at the end of the hall facing you; you stand, fists balled tightly by your sides and your expression unnecessarily fierce - it’s thought that fear and anger often are mistaken for each other, and Izuku seems to think so today as well.

He tilts his head slightly, and his voice is slightly raspy, deeper than usual, as he calls out to you. There’s a strained quality to it, as though his voice has been unused for a while, even though the two of you did technically just speak, or maybe he’s forgotten how to speak to you softly, how to speak to anyone with kindness.

But he tries.

“Are you mad at me, love?”

There’s a little bit of electricity in the air that you can feel in the strands of your hair that you know emanates from him. Energy that he hasn’t kept inside now that he has no reason to show any restraint. His eyes aren’t glowing however; if anything, they’re devoid of any light, dull like a lifeless forest in the dead of night. You wonder if, haggard as he appears now even if he is always and forever handsome, has come out of the wilderness. Where does he stay when he’s not here? Where is he physically when mentally he is lost?

You can’t get words out of your throat no matter how hard you try to answer him. He breathes from his nose, a sigh, and in the blink of an eye, he’s crossed the distance between you two, and has you pressed up against the wall. Caged in, his hands pressed on either side to make it clear that you have no escape, your faces are millimeters apart. This is not the man you love who values your space and your autonomy and the idea of you, above all, freely offering yourself to him.

This is not your Izuku.

Nevertheless, not-Izuku kisses you roughly and bites your lip sharply as his mouth disconnects from yours. It’s painful and bruising and you think you taste blood, but the salt on your tongue probably comes from the tears that fall from your eyes as you tremble.

When you look at him through a moisture-blurred view, for a moment it seems as though his eyes shine too.

Maybe, maybe for a moment. You blink, and they’re dull again.

“Izuku, please don’t hurt her,” is the first thing that falls from your lips.

His facial expression turns wicked for a moment and then he laughs and it is not his laugh. It’s something tinny and sick and wrong coming from him. He kisses you again, bites even harder this time, enough that you wince, and this time you are sure your lip is bleeding.

“Hurt? Why would I hurt my princess? How could you even ask something so silly?”

Izuku presses his forehead against yours, and his cool breath runs over your wet cheeks. His hands grip your wrists and raise them up above your head, pressing the back of your hands to the wall.

“Why would I hurt her or you when you’re so vulnerable and need to be cared for?” The way he stresses that adjective - vulnerable - turns your stomach and your whole body tenses, which he notices, tightening his grip on your wrists.

“See, love, that’s why I had to come back. I said I would come back, didn’t I? To think I’d leave the two of you alone in such a twisted, unsafe world… what kind of man would I be if I behaved like this?”

You swallow hard, unable to look at him as you search for other points to focus on. He notices.

“Don’t you dare look away from me,” he hisses. Your eyes snap obediently away from everywhere else in the room and focus on him. There’s nothing behind his eyes. You want to scream into the endless void you stare into. What happened to him? What happened to your Deku?

“W-what do you want?”

Izuku’s eyebrows furrow, and for a moment, he looks genuinely confused, like a kid faced with a particularly difficult arithmetic problem. You stun him enough with your words that he lets go of your wrists for a moment and steps back, rubbing his chin.

It wasn’t meant to be said harshly - maybe it was your grief that hardened your voice, but he seems to retreat to somewhere deep in his chest, before shaking his head.

He smiles again, that unnatural grin that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I thought I was coming home. Do I need permission to see my family?” he asks in a honeyed voice.

He leans in further, pressing a scarred, calloused hand to your cheek and stroking gently. Once upon a time, you would have leaned into his palm and kissed it, maybe even pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt so that you could kiss him.

But all you can do is freeze, and let it pass.

And he gets impatient. His fingers now pinch instead of caressing; it would be cute, and it was once cute, when he pulled your cheeks like this to steal a kiss, but now the downturn of his lips show that he is trying very hard not to accept the truth that you are rejecting him, or at least the ‘him’ that you see before you now.

His voice flattens.

“You really thought you’d keep me out with those silly trinkets?” he growls. The other shoe has dropped.

“Who made them?” he asks. “Who did you ask to help you keep me out of my own home?”

Izuku’s hands move quickly, now cupping your chin in his hands and pulling you to him roughly as he stands, so that you’re nearly lifted up off your feet. It’s an action that’s lacking any tenderness as though he’ll yank your head clearly off your shoulders.

“Honey? That’s a direct question, not rhetorical,” he repeats.

You don’t utter a single word, and by now he’s beyond frustrated. He lets go of your face and you lose your balance ever so slightly, but before you fall he grabs your wrist again. You pull away reflexively and a flash of anger rises in him, and he pulls even harder, enough that you can feel the tingle of his Quirk intensify.

“Clearly, we seem to be having trouble with intimacy, so I guess we’ll have to address that first before I ask you to communicate basic information with me.” The edge to his voice is palpable but the pain of the pressure he’s putting on your arm is almost worse and you try so hard not to cry out at the sensation of him nearly crushing your bones, knowing very well that this is the least of his rough handling of you for now but then -

“Daddy?”

Your heart stops. Izuku lets go immediately, and you turn around with a gasp to see your little girl, a flurry of nightclothes and curly green hair, leap into his arms without the slightest bit of hesitation.

No, no, no, how… of all the times to wake up! You ignore the dead feeling in your arm to run into him and shove him as he holds your daughter and twirls her around, but he barely feels you, and you practically bounce off of him like rubber on glue.

She barely even notices you fall flat on your ass. Rather, she lets her father give her the affection she’s been missing for months, and you can only watch in abject horror as Izuku throws her up and down in the air a couple times, then asks her if she’s been good.

“Daddy, where’d you go?” She finally asks, once she’s stopped giggling. Her cheeks are rosy and excited and her eyes are bright enough to fill his darkened ones - you clutch your bruised arm and can only watch.

Izuku glances at you then blows a raspberry in his daughter’s neck which has her giggling again.

“Mommy gave me a timeout!” he says cheerfully, holding her close. She nuzzles herself into the security of his chest, and holds tightly.

“Time out?” she murmurs. She clutches at his shirt possessively, and Izuku gives you a look. Your stare becomes hardened - it’s a plea but it’s also a threat that he better not try a single funny thing with her because then fear will give way to desperation and he will have to be prepared to kill you instantly and-

He laughs - it’s less tinny than before, but still it sucks warmth out of the room, unbeknownst to your daughter. “Yeah when you’re bad you get time out!” he reminds her, poking her belly. She laughs again and presses her hands on his cheeks squishing them.

“You can’t be bad!” she exclaims.

Izuku glances at you again, his chuckle drier and his eyes more narrow as he adjusts his baby girl in his arms.

“Well, your mommy seems to think so,” he replies, quieter this time. Somehow, she picks up the serious turn to his voice.

Your baby girl looks at you too, disheveled on the ground and breathing a bit heavier than usual, looking wrong, like a feral creature, the sudden reversal of positions being apparent in such a short time.

She looks into your soul for a moment and furrows her eyebrows. She is thinking - assessing the situation. Her father who she hasn’t seen in quite a while is holding her tightly, her mother sits in a heap and does nothing. It is always too dark in this house these days. She can’t see clearly, not this, not anything.

“That’s not right, Mommy,” she says, finally.

Your heart pounds. You want to charge at him, knowing full well all you will do is traumatize your daughter at best and get yourself killed at worst. You swallow your saliva as your throat is hot and dry.

Izuku grins at you, then pats her hair gently. He sets her down and kneels to her eye level.

“Can you be a good girl for me, sweetie?” he asks.

She nods enthusiastically, clutching fistfuls of her dress to contain her excitement at having her dad home. The longer you watch her beam the more you feel like you want to puke up your insides. What do you do? What do you do?

“Go to your room and I’ll tuck you in in a little bit, okay?”

She nods and runs off immediately, back to the center of the home where you’re not sure how much of the structure still stands appropriately, but Izuku wouldn’t send her where it’s not safe - that’s his little girl after all - and the two of you watch as her small figure disappears.

The moment she’s out of sight, you finally spit up the vitriol that’s been bubbling inside you since that horrible display.

“Fuck you.”

You’re shaking, you are so upset. The thought that he can just barge in here, and put you in an awful situation, making you look like a bad person no matter what you do.

Izuku’s dusky eyes narrow, and in seconds he’s dragging you to your feet and pulling you into the nearest bedroom.

“Gladly.”

It doesn’t matter how hard you kick and scream and protest. Eventually, Izuku gets tired, and throws you over his shoulder, clapping a hand over your mouth. You bite his palm and he barely reacts and instead of biting harder, you break out into muffled sobs. You don’t want to hurt him, it occurs to you. You don’t have the resolve to truly take purchase into his flesh and tear away like a beast.

He throws you onto the bed and locks the door as you bury your face into the bedsheets, continuing to muffle your tears. You’re not crying because you hate him, it’s because you love him still and the situation is so awful and confusing that it’s clear that there’s no way out. You scream and terrify your daughter, and Izuku will make you the problem. If she, by some magic, understands what’s going on, is it worth it for her to develop that same darkness behind your Izuku’s eyes right now?

Izuku snorts derisively as he watches you come undone in your own mind, as the reality sets in that there is truly no way out of this situation. You sob, and you sob and you sob, and he lets you, watching you with neutrality that is so atypical of him. You’re not the first person he’s seen cry, and even if you are the most important person to him, he’s had enough of your tears. Any tears, in fact.

He sits at the edge of the bed until your sniffles die out, then finally runs out of patience.

“Stop it.”

You rise slowly to watch him stare at you, his own eyes red-rimmed. It’s the most emotion you’ve seen out of him since today, but you can’t understand what he’s feeling. You can barely understand your own right now.

You sniffle and he sneers.

“Stop it right now,” he repeats, harshly this time. His lips crash into yours again and he pushes you so that you lay on your back. He tears at your clothes and your defenses, and soon you are kissing back, miserable and pathetic a creature as you are.

He whispers something about loving you and never letting you go, and you don’t have the strength to whisper back but you know it’s true. Your body misses him, misses the heat of his skin against yours and the scrape of his tongue across your nipples. It misses his fingers that tease you apart and make you fall apart, the sensation of being full of love for him and physically stretched and strained to accommodate him. It misses his teeth marking you, palms sliding across every surface.

“It h-hurts, Izuku,” you moan, sucking at his shoulder to distract from the corrupted pleasure. He groans into you as he continues to dig, deeper still when your nails dig into his back, deeper still when your legs tighten around his waist. “It h-hurts,” you murmur into his neck.

“You’ll endure for me, won’t you baby?”

He doesn’t stop; maybe he slows, but he doesn’t stop.

The truth is you will. It’s not the only thing you’ll endure for him, you think as your head swims in desire.

“You feel better than I remember,” he groans into your ear. “Perfectly tight, like you’ve been waiting for me this entire time to reclaim you, haven’t you?”

You sigh deeply and your back arches as you climax. It’s the only answer he needs.

“You’re mine forever, no matter what, aren’t you?” he says.

Till death do we part, you think, and you crash into full, reckless indulgence. Your husband lets out a cry; his hips stutter to a stop and he pumps you full, over and over again, and before you can catch your breath, he begins again. Faster this time.

“I love you. I will love you to pieces,” he whispers into your ear, and for the first time that day, looks at you with his own eyes, the look you remember. Your eyes well up. You’ve missed him terribly.

Your arms wrap around his neck.

“I love you, too.”

There’s catching up to do.

—

Bakugou has not heard from you all morning, and while he tries not to think about it, he can’t help but think about it.

It’s only been a couple hours - he sent the message somewhere around 8 am, knowing that you’re usually up by this time. However, it’s almost 11 am and you should at least be up to take your daughter to school and yet you’ve neglected to respond.

Not even a read receipt.

Oi, just let me know you’ve seen this message, okay? He texts finally, before shoving his phone back into his pocket. There’s quite a few other things he needs to be worrying about today, including tracking members of the second iteration of the League of Villains and figuring out what exactly happened to his friend. You are fine. You have to be, he thinks.

His phone buzzes.

Instead of a message, it’s a video according to the banner. Bakugou hesitates, and there’s a tiny bit of dread as he opens it.

And his eyes widen in horror.

You are wrapped up in white sheets, body facing away from the camera, but he can tell from the transparency that you’re most likely wearing nothing else. By the steady rise and fall of your chest, he can tell you’re still alive, albeit fast asleep. The camera shakes ever so slightly.

From the audio, which he turns up he can hear a voice, Izuku’s voice.

“She’s just fine, don’t worry about us.”

The video ends and Bakugou can feel his blood run cold as his mind begins to race. Before he can play the video again to look for clues, there’s a text message that pops up.

If you text my wife again, I’ll dash your brains on the concrete.

Have a lovely day.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #yandere izuku #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: izuku #mimi's notes

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 7 months

Text

Making Arrangements Part One

Masterlist | Part Two

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked.

Length: 6.1K

Notes: It's a two-shot! Part two will have explicit content.

No beta, we die like Billy Kimber

Warnings: Arranged marriage; mentions of prostitution; canon-typical attitudes toward sex; slow burn; enemies to allies to lovers; Reader has a brother and an aunt; no physical descriptions of non-canon characters; Reader gets drunk

Summary: If you’d been involved with anyone, if there’d ever been a hint or a whisper of a beau recently, you might’ve been able to plead differently for your future.

But you knew as well as your family that this was your best move, and with no great love waiting in the wings, there was nothing to be done but to marry the man. You secured your interests, the interests of your family. You gained a powerful ally—but you also gained powerful enemies.

“D’you think you could bother to give them a smile?”

On the face of it, it seemed a fair question, but all things considered, it made you want to punch Thomas Michael Shelby squarely in the jaw. You didn’t, of course—that conduct would be unbecoming of a bride in front of her new family.

You’d been getting knowing looks from the women all night—pursed lips from Ada and Polly, and a wide smile from Esme. It was almost wolf-like, the way she watched you—welcome to the pack.

“I could,” You conceded, nodding, casting your gaze around the party. The revels had only just begun. It was early enough that nearly everyone was coherent, on their feet, but you knew that in just a couple of hours, the party would likely turn to shit. These people would be drunk, coked out of their minds, dancing, and flirting…Probably fucking. You had no doubt that you would be expected to do your wifely chore that evening.

Maybe that was why a permanent frown had been fixed on your lips from the time you’d put on your wedding dress, as you’d walked down the aisle, all the way through the fucking I Dos.

“You’re still frowning.”

You didn’t bother to hide your eye roll before you turned your head fully to look at him. He didn’t give you the same courtesy. He watched the revelers with the same bored speculation as you’d given them just moments ago.

“And this is what your fucking grin looks like?” You snipped. He raised his cigarette to his lips, drawing in a deep drag that sank his cheeks. He managed to cast you a knowing glance, his brow raising.

“It’s the most that you’ll get of me tonight.”

“And of me. Don’t ask me to stoop to something that you won’t bother with. I’m your wife now. At least pretend to respect me in front of them,” You insisted, nodding toward the others. It took him a moment, but Tommy nodded.

“And behind closed doors?” He asked.

“That’ll be none of their concern. And you’ll have to take it up with me later.”

“I intend to.”

You sat on the edge of the bed, and watched. All Tommy did was light up another damn cigarette. You weren’t sure if you married a man or a chimney.

You could hardly believe that you had married the man at all.

Your family had never been a big player in Birmingham, or Camden. You’d kept your head down, stayed out of the way, operated cleanly. When the Shelbys had come to you with a proposition, it hadn’t been for your minor operations in the UK—it had been for your connections in America. They were looking to expand, offered you a good deal, and a union between the two households.

When it had first been brought to your attention, you’d thought that it was a pretty good idea. But when it came down the line that Thomas Shelby had specified an interest in marrying you, well—the thought had become less and less appealing. If you’d cared less for your family, or known less about the mounting tensions that they were facing overseas, you would’ve laughed the idea off. If you’d been involved with anyone, if there’d ever been a hint or a whisper of a beau recently, you might’ve been able to plead differently for your future.

But you knew as well as your family that this was your best move, and with no great love waiting in the wings, there was nothing to be done but to marry the man.

You secured your interests, the interests of your family. You gained a powerful ally—but you also gained powerful enemies.

Tommy had spoken to you only once before your wedding day. The meeting had been brief, and he’d done all of the talking. He’d promised to protect you, sworn to never raise a hand against you.

“You know as well as I do,” He’d insisted, “That this is the best way forward for our families. And I know,” He’d leaned in a touch, “That you want what’s best for your people.” He’d reached into his pocket and drawn out a small velvet box, setting it on the table before he stood, straightening his waistcoat.

“You have until tomorrow night. I need an answer.”

You’d sent him your reply—a single slip of paper sent with your brother Lewis that simply read: Yes

“...It was a nice party,” You offered now, unable to stand the silence any longer.

“You didn’t seem to particularly enjoy it.”

“No one left with a bullet wound. In my family, we consider that a successful bash.”

Tommy’s lips quirked just a touch as he nodded.

“Our brothers seemed to get on,” You hedged, desperate to draw this out. You worried that once you stopped speaking, he may…Want to consummate the marriage. You weren’t sure how you felt about that. You’d heard rumors, whispers that Tommy was a good lover, but you weren’t sure that you were ready to find that out yourself.

“They did,” Tommy nodded again. “Lewis and John already seem thick as thieves.”

“Yes.”

The two of you fell into quiet again, and it was a harrowing few moments before Tommy pushed himself off of the dresser. Your hands dropped instinctively to the bed, grasping at the sheets—but Tommy turned and went for the door.

“G’night, then.”

Your brow furrowed as you glanced around. Goodnight? But—

“Where will you sleep?”

Tommy stopped in the open doorway, nodding behind himself. “I’ve a room down the hall.” He turned away, adding, “Shout if you need something.”

You hesitated a few moments longer before you sprung up, darting forward and shoving the door closed before locking it. You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes and letting your forehead rest against the dark, cool wood grain.

He didn’t take.

You had gone into the room expecting shoving hands and a quick coupling, but Tommy kept his distance. You weren’t sure if you were more relieved or insulted. You turned away from the door, leaning back against it and peering around your dim new living quarters.

Relieved, you decided.

Insulted, you decided.

Tommy had the gall to lean in and peck your cheek when he’d come down to breakfast that morning.

It took everything in you not to shove him away.

Polly made no comment on how wane you looked the next morning, nor did Ada or Esme cast you knowing grins or teases. They all watched Tommy, and the little slip of a shadow that you’d met last night—a birch-pale, dark-haired woman named Lizzie.

You didn’t think that the news had made it back to your family—the fact that your husband had just spent his first night as a newly-married man with a prostitute-turned-secretary while you slept alone in an unfamiliar room wearing the lacy nightie that you’d bought specifically for your honeymoon.

Esme and Ada excused themselves as quickly as they could, but Polly lingered, and offered,

“He’s a prickly sort, and these things take time. Men have their needs and urges.”

“...Right,�� You pronounced crisply as you stirred some sugar into your tea, “And I’m a novice in a nunnery.”

“You should’a seen the girls at the party last night,” Lewis groaned.

For all of your irritation during the last few days, you’d been happy, truly happy to see your family enjoying themselves. Carving out your space in the literary scene of London and running a few underground print shops wasn’t exactly a serene existence. You constantly had to move operations, vet workers, stop-up leaks in production cycles and deal with snitches. Your entire family was dedicated to the business, but your brother was the most determined of the lot. Lewis had become the man of the house at a young age, after your father had been hauled into prison for treason.

So to see him let loose a little—well, more than a little, truth be told—was a heartening sight.

“I don’t think I would’ve quite enjoyed them the way you did,” You raised a brow, smile widening as he ducked his head bashfully, “But I’m glad you had a good time.”

“And you?”

The pointed question came from just behind you. You didn’t dare turn to look at your Aunt Pearl. She knew you far too well. You could hide your feelings and concerns well enough from Lew—you had plenty of practice. But Pearl had been a motherly figure, a guiding hand in what would’ve been an otherwise rudderless life. She learned to read you like an open book when you were young, and you had been powerless to change the way that she understood you, even as the seasons of your life had passed.

You turned your head back toward her just a touch, biting the inside of your cheek as you waited for her to go on. It was a few moments of quiet before she urged: “Lewis, go get some air.”

You drew a deep breath in through your nose, fighting to steady yourself, and giving Lewis an encouraging smile and nod before he stood, pushing away from the kitchen table and heading outside. You saw him tipping his head back toward you, trying to catch on the line of questions that Pearl was about to level—as if neither of you knew any better to wait until he was fully out of earshot.

“Who’s Lizzie?” She finally asked. You weren’t sure how to answer at first. You scrubbed your hand over the back of your neck, making sure that you heard the door shutting behind Lewis.

“It’s just…Growing pains,” You finally offered, gaze set stalwartly on the table. “Every couple has them.”

“Where was he last night?”

“How should I know?” “He’s your husband. You’re supposed to know.”

You didn’t have a chance to argue before she strode closer, her hand resting on your shoulder. You didn’t flinch, or draw away. You were used to her hand on your shoulder, her nails digging into your skin. She didn’t dig her nails in just now—she merely rested and waited.

“Growing pains,” You finally offered again as you looked straight ahead. It was as if Polly had her hand on your other shoulder, and was staring you down in warning.

“Pains?” Pearl repeated. “Physical?”

You don’t want to answer, but—

“Emotional,” You blurted. It was another moment of quiet before she hummed. You stopped yourself from turning to look at Pearl—to catch the no doubt heavy judgment in her dark eyes, and the twist of displeasure to her small mouth.

“I see.”

“It’s early,” You insisted. She hummed again, stepping around you to walk toward the window. It didn’t take much to glance over, to see where Lewis was playfully fighting with John and Finn.

“Do they know?” Pearl asked.

“About where he was?” You shook your head. “I’m sure his brothers do.”

“And?”

“And what?” You scoffed. “It’s no business of theirs. Our marriage is between myself and Thomas.”

Pearl turned to face you with a crisp smoothness, her eyes narrowed as she cocked a hip.

“And that’s all you have to say about it?” She asked. You pursed your lips. You had plenty to say about it, but it would land on deaf ears. Any of Pearl’s meddling would spell trouble, and you weren’t about to sic the dogs less than twenty-four hours into wedded bliss.

“Yes,” You nodded firmly. Pearl’s eyes narrowed further before she hummed, turning back toward the window.

“...This is good for us, Pearl,” You reminded her. “The Shelby’s are strong, they know what they’re doing. I just have to hold up my end.”

“And what end is that?”

“That of a doting wife.”

“And mother?”

Doubtful. Thomas couldn’t even be bothered to touch you as it was. But it was early, you reminded yourself. Things could still change. Things would change. They had to.

“Perhaps,” You leveled evenly. “Someday. Time will tell.”

“Time,” Peal repeated, nodding as she rounded you. “Well, if we’re going on time, so far, you’re not managing it particularly well.”

You slid down in your seat a little as Pearl finally left the dining room. Your interest in the day’s paper had been sapped; your tea had gone cold. You didn’t want anything to do with Thomas Shelby, or with his family, not anymore. If you were going to make it through at least one year of marriage, you needed to nip this in the bud.

“I need to talk to you.”

Tommy didn’t so much as glance at you, his gaze trained steadily on a horse. You waited a moment, shifting from foot to foot, but perhaps you shouldn’t have waited. You’d spent nearly two weeks waiting. Maybe he hadn't heard you? You stepped a little closer and raised a hand to touch him. You couldn’t bring yourself to make contact, and your hand curled in on itself just before it could brush his waistcoat.

“Thomas?” You pressed.

“I’m busy.”

“When can we speak, then?”

“Tonight.”

Certain that he meant it earnestly, you turned away and left.

But the evening came and went, and you found yourself sitting alone, stewing in front of your uneaten dinner and eyeing his empty plate. The house was too quiet, and your thoughts were far too loud. You needed to clear your buzzing head—you wanted a drink, and some fun.

“You can’t let them push you around.”

The warning was spoken knowingly. You knew that she was right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet Esme’s eye. Her gaze was so heavy, so all-knowing—nothing like the bright, uninterested gaze that Thomas often offered you. But Esme was having none of it. She dipped her head into your field of vision and clapped her hand over yours where it rested on the table beside your drink. You shook her hand away lightly, reaching for your drink instead. Maybe coming to the office to nip out of the bottle Polly kept in her desk had been a bad idea. But you couldn’t bring yourself to just sit in that house and rot in your anger.

“No one is pushing me anywhere,” You grumbled.

Esme let out a soft, cruel chuckle.

“I know what it is,” She insisted, “To come into this family and feel on the outside, feel that you don’t have a voice. Becomin’ a Shelby doesn’t erase who you were before.” She reached out again, taking up your drink and drawing in a deep pull before you could argue. As annoyed as you were, you knew that she was right. You nodded slowly, topping the glass up when she set it back down.

“...Should I not bother replacing Polly’s alcohol, then?”

Esme’s smile grew as yours did, and the two descended into quiet giggles.

“We need to talk.”

It was steely when it left you this time. Despite that, Thomas still paid you no mind. In fact, he went out of his way to take his time drawing on his cigarette before fishing into his waistcoat. He pointedly drew out his pocket watch, flipping it open and eyeing the time. The tick tick tick of the second hand passed for several long moments before he flipped it shut again, lifting his gaze to the hustle and bustle of the office around him.

“Later,” He offered.

Later, always later. Weeks of later, of hearing Lizzie’s footsteps and the creaking across the floor as she left the house before you were up and about for the morning. Weeks of sitting alone in that empty house, putting on a brave face for Pearl and Lewis. Weeks of anger and shame eating through your gut.

“Now,” You spat.

He turned his head toward you, brows ticking up. You could feel the pace of the others in the shop around you slow just a bit, and speeding up again as Thomas shot them a glance.

“Alright,” He murmured, resting his hand on your lower back. You let him steer you toward his office, resolute in your irritation. He opened the door for you, waving you inside and shutting the door behind the two of you.

“What is so urgent that you pulled me away from my work?”

“Your work of watching other people count your money?” You quipped in irritation.

“...What is it that you want to discuss.”

“You need to keep your whoring private.”

Thomas’s brows jumped with intrigue, his chin tipping down toward you.

“Explain.”

“I understand that we went into this with our eyes open and a mutual understanding that the actions that we were taking were for the good of our families, but to the rest of the world, we are husband and wife. I will not ask you to stop your carrying on, as I can't imagine that you’d abide by it if I did, but keep it private. I will not step out on you publicly, and I expect to be given that same respect.”

Thomas blinked before he straightened, pushing away from the door and stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray on the desk. He muttered something that you couldn’t hear, and you frowned.

“Pardon me?”

“Publicly,” He repeated firmly. “You said that you wouldn’t step out on me publicly.”

“I did,” You nodded.

“Do I get to know the lucky man’s name?”

Your face went hot with indignation. Was he trying to embarrass you? Whether he was or not, it was working. You folded your arms across your chest.

“You’re missing my point.”

“I take your point. You want me to treat you as my partner, and as my wife, you have that right.”

“And will you?”

“You can trust me to be discreet.”

“I don’t trust you to do anything.”

Thomas’ expression closed off, his eyes narrowing a touch, and your stomach twisted with nerves.

“And might I ask why.”

“What have you done to earn it? In our, what, two weeks of marriage, I have hardly seen you. You’ve made no point to acquaint me with your family or your business, and you’ve spent your nights down the hall with another woman. I’m not your wife, I’m a boarder.”

Thomas considered for a moment before he gave a short nod.

“I understand. I will make changes.” “Thomas—”

“I will.”

You pursed your lips together, pushing a sigh out through your nose before you gave a small nod of concession.

“Alright.”

“Anything else?”

“...No.” And, just to seal the deal, “Thank you for your time. And for listening.”

Thomas nodded, straightening up and opening the door for you. You strode toward it, and were nearly through before he rested a hand on your shoulder. You went still, turning your head toward him just a touch. Before you could get a good look at him, Thomas leaned in, brushing a kiss to your cheek. It was the most that he’d touched you since he’d kissed you the morning after your wedding. You thought that he may be making a show of affection for the office, but Thomas turned his head, brushing his lips against your ear.

“If I ever find out that another man has touched you,” He murmured, “I’ll take off the bastard’s hands and give them to you as an anniversary present.”

You balked, shock wracking your chest as he placed a final kiss to your temple before he gave your ass a pat, spurring you into action and sending your scurrying back into the office, and out of his reach.

“It’ll be nice for you to fix up the place and make it your own,” Polly commented.

“She was always going to get around to it of course,” Pearl insisted. You didn’t dare look away from the row of dressers. The one that you had in your bedroom was fine, but it was a bit small. You’d ordered several new pieces of clothing on Tommy’s account—well, on your joint account. Giving the name Mrs. Shelby had incited stunned, wide eyes from the shop keeper’s assistant and prompted fawning and a healthy discount.

Still, as much as you were trying to bring your families together, you realized belatedly that in this case, it was an awful idea. Polly and Pearl had taken every opportunity to take digs at one another, leveling backhanded compliments with smug smiles and drags of their respective cigarettes. The two of them were so painfully similar, and perhaps that was why they seemed to hate one another so much.

“Of course,” Polly echoed placidly.

“I want this one,” You pointed to the one in front of you.

“I’ll find the assistant,” Polly offered, brushing past you. You sighed heavily, shaking your head.

“Please pull it together,” You muttered.

“I’ve nothing to pull together,” Pearl pronounced.

“Please,” You bit out again. “I can’t make any of this work if you and the others don’t, either.”

You heard a deep sigh, chased by the tapping of her cigarette ash beside you.

“I will be myself.”

“I don’t need you to be yourself, Pearl. I need you to be pleasant.”

A little knot of tension unwound as Pearl chuckled.

“Becoming a missus really has given you fangs.”

“I’d rather not use them, if possible.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you.”

“...Are you going to give Miss Sourpuss the same talking-to when she gets back?”

“Lord above.”

“You look like you’ve had a marvelous time.”

Bringing Pearl and Polly to a somewhat peaceful place had been shock enough for that evening, but this took the absolute biscuit.

You might’ve yelped in fear at the sound of his voice if you hadn’t spotted the burning cigarette in the ashtray mere seconds before he spoke. As it was, you didn’t answer right away. You plastered yourself against the backdoor, your hands curled around your key and your purse. Thomas just arched a brow, expectant and silent. He wasn’t supposed to be there. You’d been told that he had business, and you had figured that once that had concluded, he would take care of other…Matters. You'd thought you’d have the house to yourself and have a nice cuppa before going to bed.

You finally managed to push yourself forward, away from the door, your face hot with drink and embarrassment.

“I didn’t think you’d be in,” You admitted.

“You didn’t think I would be spending the evening in my own house?”

“Esme told me there was a family meeting. She said that they can run late.”

“You were misinformed.”

“Clearly.”

You watched Thomas warily as he drifted closer, going tense as he stepped around behind you. You hardly dared breathe for a moment, then let it out as you felt him slide your coat from your shoulders.

“Thank you,” You mumbled as he stepped away with it.

“Were you with Esme?” He asked, tossing your coat over the back of a chair.

“Mhm,” You nodded, taking a few steps deeper into the kitchen. “And Ada, Polly…And Pearl.”

“Where were you?”

“Polly’s house.”

“Mm.”

You watched Tommy round the counter, taking up a clean glass and a bottle of whiskey. You nodded, stepping closer. “Please.”

He poured a good amount before setting the glass on the table. You sat down, watching him do the same. The light in the kitchen was low, casting an orange glow about the room. You felt almost like you were being interrogated as Tommy tucked his cigarette between his lips for another drag. You took your drink up in turn, giving your hands something to do. Besides, finding your husband at home had harshly staunched your blissfully tipsy mood, and you were desperate to get it back. Tommy made no comment as you took a deep swig, and you fought away a wince at the taste and burned as you gulped it down greedily.

“How was the meeting?” You asked.

“Fine…Would you like to know what it’s about?”

“If you’d like to tell me.”

You figured he would let it go there, but he gave a short nod, offering: “We’ve reached a trade agreement with your man in New York.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Lewis can fill you in on the particulars later.”

Your brows jumped. “Lewis was there?”

“The business concerned him, I made sure he was in attendance.”

“I’m sure he appreciated it.”

He hummed, leaning back in his seat. You took another deep swig from your glass, but you couldn’t bring yourself to draw your gaze away from Tommy’s. He seemed so relaxed—though, maybe it was absurd to find a man relaxed simply because he had removed his suit jacket. Still, he looked irritatingly dashing in his waistcoat.

“Tell me about yourself,” He ordered as you lowered your glass to the table. You cleared your throat, shaking your swimming head to try and clear that, too.

“Pardon me?”

“Well,” Tommy plucked up the bottle again, topping your glass up. “As you have reminded me, you are my wife. I ought to know something about you.”

“...Are you drunk?”

His lips quirked with a small smile. “No. But if you keep on like that, you will be.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so, thank you.”

“I have to be drunk to want to learn about my wife?”

My wife. It made you feel oddly warm as he said it…Though perhaps that was the whiskey.

“We didn’t exactly have the most conventional courtship, or wedding,” You reminded him.

“All the more reason for me to learn about you now.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“How about with the things you like.”

“I will tell you,” You nod slowly, “But only if you tell me about yourself in turn.”

Thomas seemed to purse his lips before he sat up in his seat. He held his hand out, the gold of his wedding ring glinting in the light.

“You have a deal.”

You hesitated for a few moments, certain that he was putting you on. But when he didn’t draw it back, you raised your hand in turn, grasping his and giving it a shake.

The first hint of light made you wince and turn away. Your mouth was obscenely dry; your head was pounding harshly. You groaned, rolling away from the window. Oh…You did not feel good. Your head felt like it was going to burst; your stomach rolled like you were taking a rocky transatlantic crossing. Oh, god…Were you going to be sick?

You peeked an eye open, then squeezed it shut again. Oh, no. You weren’t sure which was worse, having your eyes open or keeping them closed. You hesitantly opened both eyes, then groaned more loudly, tucking your head beneath your pillow. No. Having your eyes open was definitely worse.

You heard a harsh thudding, as if a giant has managed to get into your room. What on earth—

The pillow lifted away, and you tipped your head up into the cool brush of fingertips against your forehead.

“How’s our Sleeping Beauty?”

You weren’t sure what flustered you more: the teasing tone of Tommy’s voice, or the way the word beauty sounded coming out of his mouth.

“Right as rain,” You mumbled. “Or I will be, once you stop yelling.”

His chuckle brushed your forehead.

“Pearl is on her way to look in on you. Apparently Esme is doing just as well as you are this morning.”

“I don’t wish this on my worst enemy.”

“Rest up.”

“I wasn't planning on doing anything else.”

“Good girl.”

Before you could ask, or argue, or throw a hand out to slap him on the shoulder, he brushed a kiss to your forehead, then drew away fully. You listened to the retreat of his footsteps, a pause, the scraping of the curtains being drawn closed, and the gentle scruuuuuuh—thump of him shutting your bedroom door behind himself. You only dared look around after a few minutes, when you were certain he was gone. You rolled onto your back, sighing and trying to ignore the thud-thud-thud behind your eyes.

You feel like hell, but last night was sort of…Nice.

Drinking with the girls and breaking down some of the barriers before your families had been a success, but coming home to Thomas was…New. It wasn’t unpleasant, as you would’ve previously thought. You scrubbed your hand gently across your eyes, trying to recall your conversation. You had it in bits and pieces—his love of horses, his devotion to his family, his worries for Arthur and John. You wondered if he told you those things because you’d been spifflicated that he didn’t think you’d remember a damn thing. But you remembered.

You remembered the almost kind way that he’d smiled at you a couple of times. You remembered the way he’d taken your hand and led you up the stairs, steadying you when you’d wobbled and taken uneasy steps. You remembered him turning his back as you’d gotten undressed, waiting for you to get into bed before bidding you a goodnight.

A knocking on the door drew you up from your recollection, and you winced at the sound.

“Yes?” You croaked. The door opened, and to your surprise, two heads poked through.

“You’re in a state,” Polly chuckled before Pearl opened your door the rest of the way. The two entered your room, each eyeing the furnishings that were soon to be replaced. You pushed yourself up, wincing as your head spun.

“Had a night, did you?” Pearl settled onto the bed beside you.

“Could you lower your voice, please,” You grumbled.

“Did you go right to bed when you came home?”

“I meant to.”

“But you didn’t?” Polly chimed in.

“No.” You winced as you raised your voice just a touch. “I…I had a conversation with my husband.”

Polly and Pearl cast one another curious glances, so unlike the cutting looks they’d leveled at one another just a couple of days ago.

“It was fine,” You added. “It was…” Nice? Enlightening? Something you would be happy to have again? “Cordial.”

“Was he drinking?” Polly plied.

“We both were.”

Polly and Pearl each hissed, chased by sympathetic tuts.

“You should’ve quit while you were ahead,” Pearl admonished.

“I certainly know that now.”

Polly took another look at you before she patted Pearl’s shoulder, offering, “I’ll put the kettle on.”

“You’re a saint,” Pearl smiled. You sagged back against the headboard, scrubbing a hand over your brow as Polly disappeared.

“Since when are the two of you so friendly?” You asked. Pearl shrugged.

“We’ve come to an understanding…As you have with your husband, apparently.”

“I think it may be a very different kind of understanding.”

“D’you mind if I smoke?”

“...I don’t mean to sound harsh, but if you smoke, Pearl, I will be sick.”

“Better out than in.”

“Please, no.”

It wasn’t every night—it wasn’t even most nights, but you began to spend time with Thomas. It started with him coming home just as you finished dinner, and progressed to Thomas making it home just in time for dinner. Conversation wasn’t always freely flowing, and a few of those first dinners were a little quiet, and awkward. But as you spent more and more time together, those silences became more and more rare, and when conversation wilted, the quiet was comfortable.

You still slept apart, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d heard Lizzie creeping out of the house as you awoke. Maybe she’d managed to work out which floorboards didn’t creak; maybe Thomas had stopped having her in the house…Or having her at all.

You were certain that the second possibility was the most likely. It still wasn’t the ideal situation, but you appreciated it all the same. Not only had Thomas kept his promise and been discreet, but he was taking the pains to distance you from his romantic liaisons. It was…Almost sweet, all things considered.

“...What are you reading?”

You jolted at the question, sucking in a gasp and dropping the manuscript that had been in your hand. Thomas’ brows rose as he walked deeper into the sitting room.

“You scared me,” You grumbled. “How long have you been here?”

“A few minutes. I called out twice when I came in.”

“Oh,” You frowned. “I’m sorry, I must not have heard you.”

“Clearly.”

He walked deeper into the room, taking up the fallen manuscript and sitting on the green velvet settee beside you. You let your gaze linger, sweeping over him. His jacket had always been removed, though his waistcoat was still intact. His cool eyes swept over the page, brow furrowing a touch as he took in the content. His head began to turn toward you, and you hurriedly stood, rounding to the bar cart.

“Would you like a drink?” You asked.

“Sure.”

You plucked up the bottle of whiskey, uncapping it and pouring a good amount. You rounded back to him, holding the glass out. He crossed his legs, resting the manuscript against it before he took the drink with one hand, patting the seat beside him with the other. You lowered yourself back down hesitantly, acutely aware of the way your thighs brushed.

“What is this?” He asked, nodding toward the pages.

“A book that was sent to us.”

“Topside?”

You smiled a little. Topside was how your family had always referred to the legitimate side of your publishing operations. You were certain that you and the others had said it around Tommy and his family before, but you were surprised he remembered.

“Yes,” You nodded.

“D’you like it?”

“Ah…” You considered before you blew softly between your lips. “I’ve read worse.”

“I’m not sure if that’s an indictment or praise.”

You chuckled. “It’s got a good frame, but the writing is unpolished. Could be good, with a little bit of work.”

“Will you work on it yourself?”

“I may. Need something to do with my time.” It felt like the wrong thing to say as soon as you said it—but Thomas simply hummed, turning the page as he lifted his drink to his lips.

“Redecorating hasn’t been enough of a challenge?” He asked after a moment.

“Well it was, but I’m nearly through. The only room in the house that I haven’t touched is yours.”

“And why is that?” His eyes slid toward you, and the sudden shock of blue made your stomach flip. You shrugged a little, shaking your head.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

Thomas nodded before he turned back to the pages. The two of you fell into silence, and you leaned in a little, reading over his shoulder.

“...Dinner’ll be ready soon,” You told him after a few moments. He nodded, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth, away from you.

“What’re we having?”

“Roast chicken.”

“Vegetables?”

“Potatoes and carrots.”

“Gravy?”

“Of course. I’m not an animal.”

Thomas huffed a soft laugh through his nose. He turned his head toward you a little, his lips brushing your temple. The touch made your eyes slide closed, your stomach fluttering at the sensation. You were so caught up that you nearly missed what he said next:

“We’re going to London tomorrow.”

You frowned, glancing up toward him. “Why?”

“I’ve a meeting.”

“A meeting that involves me?”

“I want you with me.” He turned his head a little more, nuzzling lightly against your hair. “Besides, it’ll be good for you to get out of the house for a bit.”

“I get out enough.”

“I think you could do with a bit more.”

You hummed thoughtfully before you leaned away, patting his thigh lightly.

“I’ll go check on the bird.”

You only managed to get up and take a single step before Thomas caught hold of your hand. You glanced back as he raised it to his lips, brushing a tender kiss to your knuckles. The action was so small, yet so intimate that it made your breath catch in your throat. He gave your hand a squeeze before letting go of it, letting his arm drift up to rest on the settee. You turned away, hurrying toward the kitchen.

Once you were alone, you braced your hands on the counter, drawing in a deep breath and pushing it out again. Your skin seemed to tingle where he kissed it, and you glanced down, as if you could see some discernible change. You shook your head, shaking your hand before you turned to the oven.

Dinner, get dinner together. You could worry about Thomas’ touch and the trip to London later.

Next Part

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce

#Tommy Shelby x Reader #Tommy Shelby x You #Tommy Shelby/Reader #Tommy Shelby/You #Tommy Shelby fic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Making Arrangements

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edenalieth · 2 months

Text

LOVE CURSE

Pairing: god of love!minho x Y/N

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff with angst

Being a god of love wasn’t always easy. When you got assigned to Minho to be bonded to your soulmate, he thought his mission would be done in a blink of an eye. Little did he know that his biggest ally would be his greatest enemy: love.

Words: 6K

A.N: first fic of 2024, we cheered! sorry, it took me more time than i thought it would,,, that photoshoot inspired me for this story, as well as the song "rewrite the stars". my bad for the possible mistakes, hope you enjoy :) any interactions are sincerely appreciated 🫶. — 240304

Being a god of love wasn’t always easy. Mortals thought it was all about fate and butt naked babies shooting their arrows at them. However, it wasn’t as perfect as they could imagine it and deities didn’t look like cherubs.

Minho had not a single memory about his past life. One day, he had opened his eyes after wandering into darkness for a really long time and had been welcomed by an angel. This angel happened to be his new brother, Felix, who introduced him to more brothers and sisters. Felix was always cheerful, he exhaled warmth and passion, a ray of sunshine in a solid form. He taught him everything he had to know for his new function as a love god. The good sides and the bad ones. Among the great ones was the chase, as they called it with his siblings. An interesting part where they used their magic to get close to their assigned human. Using ancestral methods, they tricked their customer into thinking that they knew each other since forever. This way, it was easier for them to establish a bond with their chosen one and Minho was always sincerely curious about their lives, hopes and dreams. Once the spark of love was strong enough, came the second step. The aim. It was truly thrilling for Minho to shoot an arrow. The way the wood of his bow perfectly fitted on his hand, like an extension of his arm. Or when his fingers, hooking on the silver bowstring, had to keep the perfect balance before releasing his arrow, which never failed to ignite the passion between two human beings. It gave him goosebumps every time. Finally, came the evanescence. When the arrow had reached the heart and the two lovebirds were united, the god of love had to disappear from their lives. Despite how poetic all this appeared to be, not everyone had the chance to get their « happy ever after ». Divinities exclusively interfered to match a mortal to its soulmate and they had a glimpse of their future together. Unfortunately, they sometimes had to tie someone to a person who would break them in the most awful ways. No matter how bad it would be, they would remain in love with them to the point where they would forget about themselves. Minho had forced himself to become insensitive to such situations but, deep inside, he despised it. He felt nauseous and anger was running through his veins as he had to watch his customers becoming miserable in front of his eyes. Occasionally, he wished he could bribe the lord of death, Chan, into getting rid of those pests… Sadly, this deity wasn’t easy to negotiate with. They did their duty and nothing else.

When you got assigned to Minho, he didn’t think much about it and started his chase. You were a university student, pretty cheerful and a bit grumpy when things didn’t go your way. You loved to meet new people and hang out with your friends. Reading was one of your favorite hobby and you had a chubby black cat named Churros. Funny, he thought with a small smile on his face. He liked animals because they weren’t fooled by his powers like humans were, especially cats. With their piercing gaze, they could see the magic surrounding the deities, energy flows swirling around them in tints of red, black and gold. Truly smart beings.

Minho put his backpack correctly on his shoulders as he looked over his surroundings. Students were walking toward the entry door, chatting, laughing or shuffling sleepily — probably some hangover or all nighters for exams. Finally, he spotted you. Walking through the crowd, he reached you and put a hand on your shoulder. You turned around, visibly surprised and wondering about who the hell was touching you unprovoked. You frowned, met by a face you had never seen before, a beautiful face. It was a guy. He seemed to be the same age as you, his skin looked smooth, his pink lips stretched into a gentle smile and his hair were copper brown. Slowly, you attached your eyes to his. Warm and deep.

The god of love knew it was the perfect time to use his powers, you were visibly confused. Coming closer to your face, he saw your eyes widening. « I’m going to help you. » he whispered to your ear. When he glanced at you again and noticed the light veil over your eyes. Magic was happening. Shaking your head, as if emerging from a dream, your face lit up. « Minho! Gosh, I really thought you were going to leave me alone again. You know that I hate that class… », you gritted your teeth saying that.

Perfect, he thought. From now on, he would be your longtime friend who happened to go to the same university as you. « I know, I know » he replied, ruffling your hair. You looked offended as your fingers were quickly brushing your locks in an attempt to style them back properly. « You… Do you know how long it took me to do this ? » you grumbled, your eyes sending daggers to your friend. Minho smirked, playing his role to get to know you better. « Are you doing all of this for Thomas ? » he mused, teasing you. Naturally, you were his assigned human and he knew who he had to match you with and how to play with it to make you fall. Your cheeks turned into a bright red. You scoffed in disdain. « Me ? Doing this for a man ? Don’t be silly. » you rolled your eyes and grabbed his arm, changing the subject to the paper you had to write for today. Your crush was ridiculously obvious. He wondered if he would act this way if only he was able to love. However, your budding feelings for Thomas would help to get his job done faster. It took more time when he had to do all the job, create the meeting, put the right mood to some situation in attempt to make both parties fall in love. Yes, it would be easy. You sighed, « And here we go, for two hours of boredom… ». You sat down and prepared your papers, hurrying Minho to do the same. Obediently, he did as told and started his own class: learning about you.

Days turned into weeks and he knew a lot about you by now. You frowned when you were highly focused on something, you hated romcom — at least it was what you said, except that Minho witnessed you tearing up in front of 13 going 30 —, you were the type of person to scream your lungs out to songs while driving, you chewed on your lips and then complained about it when they were getting chapped. To make it short, you were lively in the most beautiful ways and the love god didn’t seem to grow tired of it. « Pull yourself together » he thought, lightly splashing his face with water. He had to make things move on between you and Thomas. Your interest for him didn’t seem to fade, after all, you were meant to be. He looked at his reflection on the mirror and was surprised by his expression: he seemed annoyed. Straightening his back, he glanced one more time at his face, defying it, before exiting the bathroom.

« Took you long enough » you stated, looking at the brown haired boy. He shrugged « Sorry ? ». You gestured him to come sit next to you. Churros was purring on your legs as you scratched it behind its ears and Minho looked at the scene fondly. Taking place by your side, he joined you to pet the black cat. You discreetly looked at your friend. You had been knowing him since you were kids — magic made you think that — and never had you realized how handsome he was. In your eyes, he was just your annoying lost twin. Kind of. At least, you thought… Or tried to convince yourself. Also, Thomas was there and you liked him, right ? Minho raised his head and caught you staring at him. He tilted his head before asking you, « What’s troubling you ? ». You shook your head, scratching your cat under its chin. « Hmm nothing… » your voice was low and not convincing at all, your friend wouldn’t fall for your masquerade. He came closer to you and nudge your shoulder. « Come on Y/N, what’s on your mind ? ». Seeing his eyes, you couldn’t resist them and gave up. You felt a bit embarrassed but gathered your courage up. « Have you ever been in love ? » you asked, your hands stopped moving and Churros half opened its eyes, its green pupils looking deep inside your soul. A brief silence filled the room. Minho was staring at the ceiling before clearing his throat. « Well, I’ve never experienced it myself but I believe it’s a precious and incredible feeling… » your friend seemed a bit gloomy and you were almost disappointed by his answer. « Have you ? » he kept going, curious to know if you were going to talk about your crush with him. The god of love was expectant. « Yes… » « How does it feel ? I can only imagine. » Minho smiled but his eyes weren’t. « It feels warm and exciting but complicated at times too… » you stated. « I mean, what do you do when you start having feelings for someone unexpected ? » The brown haired boy hummed. « Like falling for someone you never thought you would ? » You nodded, « Exactly. It's like... you have this image in your head of who you're supposed to be attracted to, and then someone comes along and totally flips that upside down. » The deity chuckled. « Hmm. I see what you mean. » a tint of bitterness lacing his voice. « But isn't that part of the magic of love? Discovering new feelings and connections you never imagined ? ». Why were you so hesitant about your feelings ? Never in his career he had witnessed that. Lighting the spark of love could took a bit longer to build but his customers never openly expressed their confusion. Was he lacking on some point ? As earlier when he was in the bathroom, he felt annoyance rushing through his veins and a strange tickling at the bottom of his nape... Churros left your lap, feeling the agitation of yours and Minho’s hearts. « I suppose so. It's just… I know you’ve noticed, I've been crushing on Thomas for a while now, but lately, someone else came into the picture… » you were elusive on purpose. Minho got caught off guard on that one. What was going on ? Something was definitely wrong. Who were you talking about ? He would have to review every single people being close to you to find out if you decided not to speak. You bent towards him, your move making your fingers brush against his, sending electricity into your system. « It’s a secret. » you sticked your tongue out and stood up. Still on the floor, Minho looked at you in disbelief. « What ? You started this conversation and now you’ve decided to remain silent ? ». Towering him, you shrugged and turned on the music to distract him.

This was an emergency. He needed to talk to Felix, right now. On his way home, he grabbed his phone on his pocket and looked for his brother’s number. He tapped on his name and waited to hear the ringtone. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. « Your contact isn’t available at the moment… » Minho swore as he was welcomed by the robotic voice. « Please leave a message after the ri… ». He hung up and dialed the number again and again and again. Finally, no automatic message but a deep upset voice, which was pretty rare. « For love sake, Minho. Why are you calling me ? I was preparing my aim. You better have a good reason to bother me and make me miss my shot. » he groaned. « My human. Y/N. She’s hesitant. » He heard his brother sighing. « And ? It happens all the time. Give her one more week and she will be ready. Now, if you may exc… » Loosing his temper, Minho cut him off. « It’s not like usual. And, for your knowledge, my clients never hesitate on their feelings. » he cockily added. Felix laughed. « Ok. Then, describe me how is it different ? ». Minho could hear the noises of the city coming from the end of the line. « I don’t feel that energy coming from her, it’s like… glowing a different way. And I have that constant itch bothering me... » he whispered, confused by the events. « Have you ever heard of someone changing their fate ? » « Minho. It’s written in the stars, it’s impossible to undo it. » the angel stated firmly. « Are you sure ? Wasn’t there any case of someone rewriting them ? » His voice felt desperate and he was. He was hundred percent sure that something odd was happening. A loud silence echoed his question. « Do you want my honest opinion ? » « Please. » he begged. « I think you’re the one with an unsteady heart. You’ve been around Y/N for too long. You’ve never spent much time with one of your assigned mortal and your magic is weakening. » Felix answered. Offended, the god of love received those words like a slap in the face. However, it would explain his discomfort. « This is nonsense. I’m telli… » but he hadn’t time to finish his sentence. « One week and not a single day more. » The ringtone resonated, announcing the final sentence.

One week. He had to calculate all his next moves. If Felix was right, nobody knew what would happened if Minho was loosing his power. Yet, he wasn’t scared about it but was terrified at the idea of loosing you forever. Once his job done, it would be as if he had never existed. You would remember a presence but would not be able to put a name or a face on it. Usually, Minho considered his mission like a book. He had to get into it, enjoy it, untangle the plot and put it on a shelf once done. With you, he wanted the story to keep going. However, he was supposed to be a side character and not a main one. The love god felt stupid and bothered by that strange sensation squeezing his heart. What was it ? He could only identify anger and disappointment. His fists were clenched and he had to fight the urge to punch the nearest wall. This is when you decided to intervene. He felt his phone buzzing. The screen illuminated the room he was in.

y/n: want to grab a coffee before class tomorrow ?

minho: sure!

y/n: perfect! see u :)

He sighed. He had to find a solution by the next morning and make you and Thomas fall in love, for once and for all. That night, the brown haired boy barely slept.

You were waiting for your friend in front of the coffee shop. Minho appeared at the corner, disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. « Wow, you definitely need some coffee. » You teased him. He groaned and opened the door for you. « Barely slept. » he briefly explained. « Thanks, I had noticed. » you scoffed. Once your coffee taken, you strolled along the path toward university campus, backpacks slung over your shoulders. « So, any plans for the weekend ? » the love god asked, trying his best to look cheerful. You shrugged, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips. « Not much, just the usual. Probably bury myself in textbooks and drown in a sea of caffeine. Exams are coming up. »

Minho rolled his eyes, nudging you with his elbow. « Come on, Y/N, you need to loosen up a bit. Life's not all about studying. Besides, I heard there's a party happening this Saturday. You have to come with me. » Your ears perked up at the mention of a party, your curiosity piqued. It has been a while since you wen to a party and going there with Minho sounded even greater. « A party, huh? Sounds intriguing. Who's throwing it ? ». The brown haired boy flashed you a mischievous smile. « Oh, you know, just some friends from the other campus. But here's the juicy part – I heard that Thomas will be there. »

At the mention of Thomas’ name, your heart sunk a little. Maybe you would finally be able to put a word on your feelings for him, know if it was a small crush or something more serious. Maybe you would understand why you felt jelly and happier than ever around Minho too…

« Thomas? » you echoed, « Are you sure? ». The love god nodded enthusiastically. Going to a party was a simple strategy but it often worked. "Positive! This could be your chance to make a move. » He winked. You rolled your eyes. « Shush. I’m not even sure if I want to be with him anymore. » you whined. « Then it’s the perfect occasion, right ? » He was right. « Alright, you've convinced me, » you finally replied, a determined glint in your eyes. « I'll go to the party with you. ». Minho seemed relieved by your answer and closed the gap between the both of you to quickly kiss your cheeks. That sudden move of affection startled you as you brought a hand to your face. « Good! I will see you later then. » he waved you goodbye and disappeared in the corridor. As he rushed to his class, mixed feelings and a strong sensation of warmth filled his system.

When he came back home on that day, the deity decided to face his own feelings. The kiss on your cheek ? It felt natural, yet really odd. Never he had done this with a mortal before but he wanted to try again. As he sat there, lost in the midst of his own thoughts, he couldn't shake the strange sensation that had been creeping up on him lately. It was like a whisper in the back of his mind, gentle yet persistent, nudging him to pay attention to something he hadn't noticed — or even felt — before.

At first, he brushed it off as nothing more than a weakness, a fleeting moment of curiosity. But the more he tried to ignore it, the louder it became, until it was impossible to ignore any longer. It was a feeling, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting, like sunbathing on fresh grass. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, couldn't find the words to describe it, but it was there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged.

Suddenly it hit him, like a bolt of lightning. Could it be...? No, it couldn't. It was absurd, unthinkable, impossible. He was a god of love, he was here to help mortals not to fa… No, no, no. And yet, the more he tried to deny it, the more it seemed to make sense. He was definitely falling for you, for your laughter that echoed like music in his ears, for your smile that lit up even the darkest corners of his heart. It was a realization that sent his mind into a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty.

What did it mean? What was he supposed to do with these newfound feelings ? What was going to happen to you, your fate, his powers ? He felt torn, caught between the familiarity of the past and the uncertainty of the future. Part of him wanted to hold onto what he knew, to the comfort of familiarity, while another part yearned to embrace this new, unknown territory with open arms. But one thing was clear amidst the chaos of his thoughts: he couldn't ignore this feeling any longer. It was a part of him now, a piece of the puzzle that had been missing all along or messing with the stars. And whether it led him down a path of heartache, he knew he had to face it head-on, for better or for worse. He was scared, obviously. However, he would enjoy his final days with you, shoot his arrow and disappear. He would get another mission and drown his feelings, trying to forget about you for the rest of his immortal life…

Days passed by, slipping from his hands, and weekend was already there. He dressed himself up and headed to the party. As he was getting closer of his friend’s house, he felt his heart sinking. When he entered the place, the thumping bass reverberated through the crowded living room as Minho scanned the sea of faces, his heart pounding in his chest with a mix of excitement and gloom. He had promised himself that tonight would be the night he finally bonded you and Thomas for eternity, but now that the moment was upon him, doubt gnawed at his resolve like a persistent itch.

Spotting you across the room, your radiant smile lighting up the dimly lit space, Minho's breath caught in his throat. You looked absolutely stunning, your eyes sparkling with laughter — you seemed a bit tipsy too — as you mingled effortlessly with the other partygoers.

Determined to seize the opportunity before it slipped through his fingers, Minho made his way through the crowd, weaving between bodies. But just as he reached out to tap your shoulder, a voice cut through the din like a knife slicing through butter.

« Hey, Minho! What are you doing over here all by yourself ? »

Minho turned to find Felix grinning at him, a beer in hand and mischief dancing in his eyes. « Felix… What are you doing here ? »

Felix arched an eyebrow, his grin widening into a knowing smirk, except that his eyes felt low-key frightening. Minho had never seen that look on his face before. « Let me guess – you're trying to find Y/N, aren't you ? I hope it’s to do your job. Tomorrow is your last chance if you can’t do it tonight, which would honestly be a shame.»

Minho felt the heat rise to his cheeks, cursing himself for being so transparent. « Yeah, actually. I was hoping to talk to her. »

Felix chuckled, clapping Minho on the back in a gesture of camaraderie. « Talk to her about what exactly ? » he aggressively whispered. « You were right, Minho. The ancient gods noticed your weird behavior and they’re now asking for results. That’s why they sent me here tonight. Also, I hate to break it to you, but it looks like she's already found her right match."

Minho's heart sank like a stone as he followed Felix's gaze across the room, where you were engaged in animated conversation with none other than Thomas. His stomach churned with jealousy and disappointment as he watched you laugh and joke together, your easy proximity like a dagger to his heart.

Desperate to salvage the situation before it spiraled out of control, Minho racked his brain for a way to interrupt. But before he could formulate a plan, fate intervened in the cruelest of ways, as Thomas locked eyes with yours and began to make his way toward you with the inevitability of two stars on a collision course.

With a unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach, Minho realized that his efforts to keep you for himself would be in vain. And as he watched you both draw closer, he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he had been fighting a losing battle all along.

But even as the bitter sting of defeat washed over him like a wave crashing against the shore, Minho knew that he couldn't give up hope just yet. For in matters of the heart, anything was possible – even miracles. Adrenaline rushing through his veins, he nearly sprinted in your direction, pushing away the guests and ignoring his brother’s screams.

With newfound determination burning bright within him, Minho felt prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that love was worth fighting for – even if it meant risking everything he held dear: his powers, his own life. Because what would happen if things weren’t turning the way they should ? He was going against destiny and it had messed up yours too. And, if he lost his powers, you would probably forgot about him since your friendship had, at first, been built on the illusions he had created.

And as the party raged on around him, Minho took a deep breath and stepped boldly between the two of you, stopping Thomas from achieving his move whether it was a hug or a kiss. The man seemed surprised and offended. « Yo… Do we know each other ? » he asked. « We don’t, but I'm here with her. » Minho held your hand in his, the warmth of his skin against your sending electricity into your veins. You looked at them, glaring at each other as a third guy — blond hair and an angelic face — approached you. Who was he and why it looked like he wanted to punch Minho in the face ? Focusing back on the brown haired boy and Thomas, you said « Minho, it’s fine we were just talking. » He turned his head, frowning, his grip on your hand strengthening. Yet, behind that visible annoyance, you could notice despair and softness in his eyes. « Well, I need to talk to you too. » Before you or Thomas could add a word, he made you follow him across the room. The blond guy was still following you but was struggling to slide between the students. You went upstairs, Minho was trying to find a place where people weren’t making out or throwing up. Eventually, a couple left one of the room, giving you the opportunity to get some privacy.

The love god closed the door behind you, letting your hand go. « I don’t have much time and I honestly don’t know what’s going to happen after but… I have to try. »

« What are you talking about ? » you chuckled nervously, your mouth getting dry. « Remember when I told you I’ve never loved anyone before ? » he asked. You nodded, anticipating. He walked closer to you, putting a strand of hair behind your ear in a tender gesture, looking at your face features as if trying to engrave them in his mind. « It took me long enough to admit it but I did… No, I do love someone. » « Oh… » you sounded disappointed, your heart starting to be torn into pieces until you felt your friend’s lips on yours. His hands cupped your face, your eyes widened as his were closing, a single tear threatening to fall anytime. Almost instantly, you drowned onto his touch, your lips moving in perfect sync as your fists were gripping his shirt. Your heart was beating so loudly that it echoed in your eardrum and you felt butterflies getting restless in the pit of your stomach.

A deep muffled voice could be heard from behind the walls as Minho delicately stepped away from you. As soon as his lips detached from yours, you started to miss them like you would miss oxygen to breathe. « Minho you know about Tho… » « Don’t worry » a tear was rolling down his cheek and he quickly whipped it. « I know you like him… But, I had to try… ». However, you didn’t feel that way about your old crush. You had a little something for him, yes, but the feeling you had for Minho was stronger than anything you had felt before. You loved him. « Minho I lo… » you couldn’t confess fully when the same innocent looking guy you had seen earlier crashed into the room.

« Minho. I hope you didn’t do anything stupid or… » however his face started to break down. Scared, you looked at Minho who was getting paler second after second. You rushed to support him as his knees felt weaker. He could feel it, his magic leaving his body. He felt so sleepy, the itch getting intense and your and Felix’s voices sounded faint. Felix cursed as he was walking toward you. « Don’t come closer ! » you warned him, not forgetting the way he looked at him before. Not listening to you, he put one of Minho’s arm around his shoulder and helped him laying down. « Wh-what are you doing ? We need to call an ambulance. » you stuttered. Felix bitterly laughed « Your mortals shit wouldn’t help him, now move aside. ».

Everything was becoming blurry and dark for the brown haired boy. Laid down, he could see Felix’s lips moving hastily, trying to cast a spell, while your hands were holding his left one tightly. « Mor… What ? ». The blond hair guy didn’t answer, his hands moving above Minho. You couldn’t see anything but the deity did. Slowly, a golden arrow was appearing on his brother’s hands, shining brightly.

You were done with this strange guy. With trembling hands, you took your phone and dialed the emergency number. Immediately, someone answered you and asked for the reason of your call.

« My friend is… He is really pale and… he doesn’t speak anymore. I… Yes, he’s breathing. No… »

Conversation kept going as you described his state, distracted and barely paying attention to Felix who was finally done casting his spell. The arrow weighted heavily on his hands, more than usual. He looked at his brother with uncertainty. The ancient gods gave him the mission to do the necessary to help Minho, no matter what, even if it had to cost him his life. His throat was burning and his hands were holding the arrow so firmly that his knuckles were turning white. With a gain of lucidity, Minho looked at Felix. Who would have thought that his biggest ally would turn out to be his greatest enemy, love itself. Minho knew what would happen if the angel was planting the arrow on his chest. He would die. It was created for mortals only and unique for each of them. Defying destiny was dangerous. Without his power he wouldn’t be able to live, he was doomed by a love curse.

« Do it. » he whispered, his words so faint he could barely hear them himself.

Felix looked at him, a frown on his face and teary eyes. The brown haired boy repeated his demand, more loudly this time. His brother closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, holding the arrow still, right above Minho’s heart. « Remember that you did this to yourself. » Felix’s deep voice broke. « I should have noticed your behavior… I’m sorry, brother. ».

Distracted by the sudden agitation at the corner of your eyes. You noticed that the blond hair guy was holding both his hands above your friend. Confused, you looked at them, not answering on the phone anymore. Suddenly, Felix slammed his fists on his brother’s chest.

The last things Minho could remember was your scream, you pushing Felix as his tears were falling on Minho’s face like a warm summer rain, his energy swirling in a thundery way around him, and the blinding light of the arrow painfully entering his rib cage. He wasn’t regretting his decision. He hoped his brother wouldn’t blame himself. As he said, Minho had did this to himself and, for as long as he could remember, he had never felt so alive. He was happy that he had been able to meet you, love you, share his feelings with you. It costed him his life, yet, he knew that it wouldn’t have been the same if you weren’t part of it. Fortunately, you would forget everything about this thanks to Felix. It would be like a blurry nightmare, nothing more, even if he secretly hoped a part of you would never forget about him. With some sort of contentment, he drowned into darkness.

Darkness. Sounds scary at first but felt familiar to Minho. After all, he had been wandering in their meanders for a long time before becoming a god of love. It felt cosy, like a nest. He didn’t have to think about anything, just let himself sail around. However, that peace wouldn’t last eternally. Slowly, a reddish light appeared, troubling his comatose state, pulling him out of this world.

Bip. Bip. Bip. His eyelids were trembling as he tried to come to his senses. Opening his eyes, he noticed where the sound was coming from. A cardiac monitor was near, perfusions were attached to his wrist. Was he at the hospital ? How was it possible ? And what was that muffled noise ? Scanning his surrounding, he saw him. Felix. His face lighting up as his brother was awaking. He could tell that he was definitely fighting the urge to hold him, scared to hurt him.

« Minho! I… I can’t believe you did it… » he sputtered.

The brown haired boy was confused. « W-why am I here ? » he asked with a hoarse voice. Surprised by it, he brought his hand to his throat. Felix’s face lost his brightness as he started to explain what happened. When the ancient gods sent his brother to bring him back to reason, they also knew that, once every thousand years, a love god could fall for someone. In the manuscripts, few were the ones who survived, most of them loosing their powers before they could do anything except one case. The love god realizing the situation they were in, they decided to shoot the arrow toward themselves, the weapon absorbing all the power but not their soul.

« This is why they told me to do this. They didn’t explain why until I came back… The arrow saved you however… » Felix seemed to hesitate.

« What ? » Minho breathed out.

« You’re a mortal now. »

The blond haired man seemed sorry, it was some sort of punishment for going against fate. Minho wasn’t. He had a second chance to meet you.

« Y/N. How is she ? Does she and Thomas…» he expectantly asked, hope lacing his voice as he tried to sit up properly, in vain, his muscles still weak. Felix softly smiled at his brother. « She’s doing great. And, no, they’re not bonded… ». A sigh of relief escaped Minho’s mouth. « She doesn’t remember me, right ? » he asked, sappy. The angel shook his head. Of course. He had erased her memories with the brown haired boy. Seeing the sadness creeping up Minho’s face, Felix started to rummage into the bag he had across his chest. Finding what he was looking for, he handed them to Minho.

« Here. Welcome to your new life. »

Papers. Lee Minho. Twenty five years old. Born in South Korea. He looked at the angel, baffled. Was it real ?

« Oh! And you’re starting your final year of university this autumn. You better be ready. » Felix added.

« Excuse me ? » Minho groaned.

Several months later.

The crisp morning air was filled with the buzz of anticipation as students hurriedly made their way to their respective classrooms. You rushed through the throng of students, not wanting to be late for your first day. You glanced at your schedule, confirming the room number for your first class of the semester.

As you approached the corridor where your class was to be held, you noticed a figure leaning casually against the wall, engrossed in a book. His rugged charm caught your eye, and you couldn't help but steal a few glances as you neared him. His deep concentration on the book intrigued you. You have never seen him taking this class before. Was he a new student ?

With a hesitant smile, you cleared your throat softly, catching the attention of the young man. He looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Hi, sorry to bother you," you began, your voice soft and friendly. « Do you know if this is where the Literature class is supposed to meet? »

The young man's eyes twinkled with amusement as he closed his book, revealing a cover adorned with intricate designs in a language you didn’t know. "Yes, it is. I'm actually headed there myself," he replied, his voice warm and inviting.

Relief washed over you as you returned his smile. "Great, thank you. I'm Y/N, by the way," you introduced yourself, extending your hand.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Minho," he replied, accepting your handshake with a gentle grip.

Your brief introduction was interrupted by the sound of the classroom door opening nearby, signaling the start of the class. You looked at your watch, realizing you were running out of time.

"Well, it looks like we better head in," you said with a nod towards the open door.

Minho agreed, falling into step beside you as you made your way into the classroom together. As you found seats near each other, you couldn't shake the feeling of serendipity that hung in the air. You didn’t know him, yet, you felt a deep connection and a sensation of deja-vu.

As the professor began the lesson, you stole another glance at Minho, captivated by his features and feeling grateful for the unexpected connection fate had brought you that morning.

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freakadr0id · 2 years

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ROTTMNT Character Fighting Style Analysis - Part 4: Donatello

Hey! I’m back with my fight-style analysis! Sorry it took so long but we’re back in business!

This is a continuation of my first post about analyzing each of the Turtles' (+April's) fighting style, their strengths and weaknesses in a fight, and how Rise uses that to highlight different aspects of their character. I highly encourage you read that first before hopping into this one for full context. There is a bit of a TL;DR at the end.

[Part 1: Leo] [Part 2: Raph] [Part 3: Mikey] [...] [Part 5: April]

[Addendum] (Small addition to this analysis)

Next up on the stand is our dear Othello von Ryan aka Bootyyyshaker9000, aka...

Donatello: Striker/Support

Fighting Styles:

Categorizing Donnie's fighting style in Rise was surprisingly difficult as Donnie doesn't appear to have an easily identifiable pattern the way his brothers do. However, after I watched all the fights he's in several times over I've come to quite an interesting conclusion:

Unlike his brothers, Donnie doesn't have a specific fighting style - he has two.

Parry and Counterattack

Donnie's primary fight style in the show utilizes a more traditional combat approach (or as traditional as Donnie can get), utilizing his bo in combination with his tech to battle the enemy at close range. This fighting style is an interesting fusion of offensive and defensive techniques to create a style that caters to Donnie's strengths. It involves Donnie goading the enemy into attacking him with a series of swipes and jabs, then using a number of blocks and parry techniques to defend himself until he can find or create an opportune moment to create an opening and hit his foe with a devastating counterattack. While Donnie might not be the strongest turtle physically, his tech and proficiency with his bo make him a force to be reckoned with in his own right.

Glass Cannon

Donnie's secondary method of fighting is one I would best describe as a "glass cannon" fight style. For those of you unfamiliar with it, the term 'glass cannon' comes from video games and TTRPGs and is used to describe a character that can deal a lot of damage, but has very little health and defense in return (think of wizard or ranged classes). "But wait, ‘Glass Cannon’ describes the attributes of a character, not their fighting style,” and yes, it does. However, in Donnie’s case, his fighting style changes in such a way that he becomes a glass cannon With this fighting style, Donnie tends to forgo the close-range, technical combat, instead more ranged attacks that rely solely on his tech. This is Donnie when he is fighting at his most offensive as these attacks can be VERY powerful and can deal a significant amount of damage, but they also leave him rather vulnerable. Donnie puts all his focus on dealing strong singular attacks, but if those fail, he ends up being more exposed to the enemy as his tech has very few defensive capabilities.

Strengths and Roles in a Fight:

Striker

Donnie is the team's striker. His role in a fight is to deal powerful, precise hits against the enemy that are intended to quickly and efficiently defeat a foe. Both of his fight styles play into this role and both his Parry-and-Counterattack and Glass Cannon method are built to deliver strong, finalizing attacks. He is often seen entering a battle after his allies instead of charging right in (although he does sometimes do that - especially early on), choosing to be a bit more precise in who he fights, or joining an ally in order to provide that finishing blow if need be. His battleshell gives Donnie an aerial advantage, allowing him to swoop in unexpectedly and strike an enemy, or boost his speed and increase the strength of his attacks. While he is seen, on occasion, fighting outside of this role, he is at his strongest when filling the Striker position.

Support

Donnie also fills the role of the team's Support and assists his brothers, April, and other members in a fight with the use of his tech (ha, get it - he's tech support). This is different than how Mikey supports the team as Mikey directly affects the enemy by disabling them, while Donnie supports the team by directly affecting those he's fighting alongside. Donnie provides numerous helpful gadgets with his tech that has a seemingly infinite number of configurations and uses in battle. His tech-bo had almost every tool under the sun and his goggles can give tactical information in a fight by pointing out weaknesses or additional information about an opponent. He also helps in moving allies around the battlefield using his hammer/tech-bo and battleshell, giving them a stronger advantage in the air and providing aerial assistance if needed. There are times when Donnie supports his allies by inhibiting the enemy, but more often than not his support is provided directly to his team.

Utility:

Donnie's Parry and Counterattack style is, arguably, his best fighting style as he can utilize his tech while fighting without being overly reliant on it. When used properly he can go up against many types of enemies and it allows him to be a bit more adaptable in a fight than he is when he is using just his tech or just traditional fighting techniques.

His Glass Cannon fighting style should not be discredited, however, as it is incredibly strong, but it is more situational than the Parry-and-Counterattack method. There are times when it is useful to have that one powerful attack that can be used to finish off an enemy to deliver an immense amount of damage, but it needs to be done in tandem with his team. When Donnie fights as a Glass Cannon by himself, he becomes incredibly vulnerable and, without anyone to back him up, puts himself at huge risk when his attack fails. Having the others nearby help weaken the enemy, making his attack more effective, or can help defend Donnie should he need it.

Donnie's fighting styles are best suited for short battles against a small number of enemies while he tends to have a hard time in long, drawn-out fights or against a large number of opponents. Donnie's strengths lie in his ability to deliver strong individual attacks, which work best when he is fighting against just a couple of enemies where he can properly focus his energy. However, the longer the fight goes on, the more Donnie begins to struggle - the longer the battle drags on, the more likely Donnie is to get hit. Despite the fact that he does very well on the defensive when using his Parry and Counterattack style, once Donnie gets hit it becomes very hard for him to recover.

Donnie's role as the Striker can conflict with his role as the Support, resulting in him often having to prioritize one over the other. If Donnie plays a more aggressive role in the fight, both his fighting styles don't give much opportunity for him to use his tech for anything but his own attacks. When Donnie needs to fall into his Support role, this means he has to significantly "back off," so to speak, so he can fully deploy and utilize his tech to help his team.

How it plays into his character:

Donnie’s fight style and roles reveal a surprising amount of information about his character, including the complexities of his personality and how his strengths and flaws are demonstrated in the way he fights.

Donnie's Glass Cannon style is the direct result of his arrogance and overconfidence in his tech. Donnie takes pride in his tech and inventions, which isn't inherently a bad thing, however, this tends to feed into Donnie's arrogance, causing him to assume that his inventions could never fail. When he does this in battle, he puts so much emphasis on his tech and his confidence in its success that he doesn't consider the possibility that the attack may not work. However, there are times when the Glass Cannon fighting style is needed, which is when Donnie has to find a balance between relying on his tech for a powerful attack and having the humility to recognize when it may not be the best option.

Donnie's Parry-and-Counterattack fighting style exemplifies how skilled Donnie can be when the best parts of his character come together. This fighting method requires Donnie to be skilled, patient, and tactical; while also demonstrating how Donnie can use his intelligence and engineering in battle without being overly reliant on it. Donnie can be rash and overeager in a fight, especially when it comes to using his tech, but when he uses his Parry-and-Counterattack style he is forced to address that in order to succeed. When Donnie uses his greatest strength, his intelligence, all of these pieces fall into place, making him a very strong fighter.

Donnie's role as a Support may not be very obvious since he tends to fight more offensively, but the way he supports his team in a fight aligns very well with how Donnie expresses his care and affection for his family. Throughout the show, Donnie repeatedly tells us that emotion and affectionate gestures are difficult for him, which could make it seem that he has little care for his family. However, this is far from the case, Rise demonstrates time and time again that Donnie deeply cares about his family, but instead of expressing it outwardly, Donnie's affection comes through in his inventions. We see several instances in the show where Donnie makes upgrades to his tech to cater to his family's needs and interests - and he does the same thing in battle. He has several gadgets specifically designed to keep his family safe, and we see how he modifies his tech to accommodate the needs of others in a fight. The love Donnie has for his family translates into every part of their lives, including battle, even when it isn't immediately obvious to anyone else.

In a Team Fight:

In a combined team effort, Donnie is the best option to go last in a team attack. Given Donnie's role as the Striker and his fighting style that is heavily geared towards singular heavy strikes, it makes sense for him to be the one to deliver that finishing blow. This is where his Glass Cannon style works best as his allies have already worn the enemy down enough to make his final, tech-heavy particularly devastating.

With the mobility and the assistance he can provide with his tech, Donnie can help set up a follow-up attack, but this means he has to take a more passive role in the fight and he doesn't get much of a chance to attack. This can be beneficial when going against weaker opponents, but less so when fighting stronger enemies.

Donnie doesn't work as well as an attacker in the early positions in a team attack as his skills as a fighter are not suited to properly set up a coordinated effort. Even though his Parry-and-Counterattack style can create an opening in the opponent's defense, it also needs a very quick attack to follow up on that, which is difficult to execute without another person nearby. Attacking first or second may also require Donnie to fight his foe for a longer period of time, which increases the chance that Donnie will get hit and won't give him the time needed to recover from it.

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Donnie's analysis was definitely the most difficult one of the bunch. Whereas Leo, Raph, and Mikey all have instantly recognizable roles and fighting styles, Donnie's was much more complex. You know he's the tech guy in and out of a fight, but trying to find where he fits into battle beyond that was challenging. Interestingly enough, it mirrors how his own character is presented, where you know Donnie's general shtick early on, but it can be difficult to understand his character beyond the surface level if you don't pay attention.

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[TL;DR: Donnie has two distinct fighting styles in the show - one that prioritizes close-range Parrying and Counterattack techniques and one where he prioritizes his tech and becomes a Glass Cannon. These both feed into his role as the team's Striker, where he functions best as the final attack in a team battle - while also acting as the team's Support by assisting his allies with less combative tech. His roles and fighting style are all very indicative of Donnie's overall personality and the complexities of his character.]

Oh it’s good to be back doing these again. Sorry again for taking so long, but college be college and college be a bi- well, you know. Next up is our girl April O’Neil. I really will try to get it out tomorrow but I won’t make any guarantees.

#damn this one was hard #but super fun and interesting at the same time #he’s just such a good character and that translates over to his fighting really well #I try to give each character their proper dues and equal treatment in these #but I feel like my bias kind of shows with this one #hopefully it isn’t too obvious #I really do love every one of them #(I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t)#but I’m rather partial to this nerd child #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #rise donnie #rise donatello #there’s surprisingly little to work with when it comes to Donnie fights #there are many points in the show where the others will be fighting #yet we sometimes don’t see Donnie fighting on screen #plus Donnie never really fights alone in Rise #he doesn’t get a proper ‘solo mission’#which makes it kind of hard to analyse how he fights by himself #analysis #character analysis #rottmnt analysis

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