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agostobuwan · 3 months

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forged by fire and crafted with care

firstprince | Henry holds the high expectations of the Crown on his shoulders, and it crushes him to the point of self-doubt and self-sabotage. That is, until he finally chooses a life for himself and chooses to live truthfully. He refuses to hide among the shadows no longer. He is Henry Fox, and no one will take that away from him.

OR The story of Henry's bravery and journey towards happiness as told through different pieces of jewelry.

5.5k words, rwrb-compliant, henry-centric, based on this beautiful piece of artwork by @artofobsession

Also read on AO3

Bea makes him a bracelet of beads and thread when he is six years old. It’s pink and sparkly and fits loosely on his small wrist when she puts it on for him. He can spell his name out just fine—he tells his Papa he’s a big boy almost everyday—so he can see that his sister added beads to spell out his name.

H-E-N-R-Y.

He traces his fingers over the letters and the sparkly pink beads around his wrist. It’s very pretty.

“What’s this for?”

“It’s a friendship bracelet, Henry. All my friends at school were making one, so I thought I could make one for you, too.”

“But you’re my sister.”

“Sisters can be your friend, too, silly.”

“Oh. Well. But I don’t want you to be my friend. I want you to be my best friend, Bea.”

His sister laughs, and it’s the best thing he’s ever heard—well, second best, next to his Papa’s voices when he tells him his bedtime stories.

“Okay, okay, fine! I’ll be your best friend, Hen. As long as you’re mine.”

That night, when he is all tucked in under the covers and in his warm pajamas, he traces the black, blocky letters of his name and smiles, big, unrestrained, and most importantly, happy. He doesn’t have to wonder what his grandmother truly thinks about boys who play with their sister’s dolls and wear pink, sparkly bracelets. That will happen another day.

For now, as he falls asleep with Bea’s friendship bracelet secured around his tiny wrist, he doesn’t have to worry about the entire world’s burdens bearing down on his shoulders just yet.

****

His grandmother gifts him a watch that sits heavy on his wrist. It is a present fit for a man—fit for a king (even though he is only the spare)—and at thirteen years of age, he is already expected to act like one. She tells him that the watch will build character. That it will finally make him focus on playing the part of the dutiful Prince of England.

“A prince’s wardrobe will not be complete without a solid timepiece,” she tells Henry as she passes the box to him on the evening of his thirteenth birthday, and her voice has yet to adopt the tinge of disappointment that always seemed to be reserved for her two youngest grandchildren. That will come at a later time.

While the craftsmanship is objectively beautiful, the watch is rather bulky, interlaced silver brackets for the wristband with a deep blue face, gold accented numbers, and sturdy hands fixed meticulously to its center. It is the kind of accessory a boy his age is expected to wear. If it is quiet enough, he can hear the solid ticks and tocks of the watch’s inner machinations, a foreboding countdown to something further down the line.

But the line doesn’t seem far enough, and he is sent to Eton that following fall. He is terrified.

He is a sensitive soul, or that is what he overhears his family, but mostly his grandmother, says about him. He doesn’t know what it means, but he guesses it has something to do with why he’s so poor at making friends, even if he is a prince. During the first few months at school, he struggles to open up to the other boys in his year, choosing instead to hide away in the library or in his dormitory and bury his nose in a book when he isn’t in his classes.

The extra-curriculars he is expected to accomplish break open his shell, but only just. It isn’t until Percy Okonjo forcibly inserts himself into his life that he starts to feel the armor around his heart begin to crack.

****

Pez is a whirlwind, a summer storm, a rogue wave violently crashing into a wall of stone. He barrels into his life and never leaves, taking him by the hand and showing him a new world beyond the palace walls. He chips away at his armored heart with relative ease, and Henry has no idea how he is able to let his sensitive soul be placated by this boy of ultimate exuberance. He is gregarious where he is not. He is the extrovert that somehow has given one look at Henry and decided to keep an introvert like him forever.

And somewhere along the line, he decides he wants to keep him, too.

Their later years at Eton are spent hopping between dormitories, with the other uppercrust boys in their year and above, who are one day going to run England to the ground. They sneak in liquor from their father’s cabinets, the head boys pointedly looking the other way so they can join in on the merriment. They do ridiculous, stupid things, and drink themselves even stupider.

For the first time in a while, he feels free.

Henry is absolutely sloshed from stolen vodka and sambuca shots when Pez suggests he stick a needle through his earlobes. At least he has the wits about him to ask him why.

“Because! It’s what the cool kids do, Hazza.”

“You are fucking mental. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Just live a little, darling! Look, I’ve done this before, so you just need to hold still, sit pretty, and let Auntie Pezza do all the work. And besides, don’t you just want to absolutely piss off your old Gran?”

He opens his mouth to protest, but the rebellious part of him takes over, and he decides that yes, he does want to piss off the Queen of England . He doesn’t need much convincing, piss drunk and all, and against his better judgment, he takes another huge swig from the vodka bottle right before Pez pushes the needle into the fleshy part of his ear. He chases down another mouthful when Pez has to the other one, and all he’s thinking about is how horrified his Gran will be if she sees the right state he’s in now.

The alcohol does enough to mask the stinging pain, and everything becomes a right blur after that. When he wakes up hours later, head pounding and mouth dry as sandpaper, his ears are throbbing, the skin pink and angry, and there is a silver stud in each of his earlobes.

“Oh, bloody hell.”

****

His father leaves and the only thing left of him is his memories and the signet ring on his little finger, the one he had presented to him when he’d just turned eighteen. He presses his thumb hard against the ‘H’ engraved into the face of it, feeling the grooves etched into the metal and thinking about his father all the while. He can almost feel his warmth embedded in the metal, but he knows it is only his grief blinding him with wishful thinking and a vibrant imagination.

He twists the ring round and round, mimicking the downward spiral he feels himself succumbing to as he watches his father’s coffin being lowered into the ground.

Then, he loses a mother, a brother, and a sister not long after. Mama loses her heart. Pip loses his love. Bea loses herself. And he is all alone with nothing but the memories of his loving father to remind him of what he has lost.

The world is heavy on his shoulders, and he doesn’t know what else to do.

****

It’s his birthday, and he feels a little less like the world’s closing in on itself now that his psychiatrist has re-adjusted his medication. He still doesn’t sleep all that well at night, but it is still a start.

He doesn’t hear from his mother, but he does receive a message via Shaan to “buy himself something special” along with an envelope full of banknotes. He understands why she travels so much, but one can only do so much to distract themselves from the pain of losing a loved one. He tried. Bea tried. Even Philip tried. It’s been years, and his mother is not the same person he used to know.

He asks Bea to accompany him for lunch, their PPOs trailing a few paces behind them. He hopes he can use his birthday to establish some kind of normalcy since it is just the two of them. Twenty-two, after all, is just a number. There isn’t anything significant about the age. No extravagant milestones attached to its connotation. But still, there are only two things worth noting on the day he turns twenty-two years old: Bea is sober, and he is gay.

After lunch, Bea takes him shopping to make use of the money their mother sent to him to spend, but nothing catches his eye. That is, until they’re in an antique shop, and he sees a pearl necklace sitting in the display case.

The string of pearls is delicate, reminiscent of the friendship bracelet Bea made him all those years ago. It looks as if it is glowing, like tiny moons held together by a gossamer of stars, and he wonders, wistfully, how it would feel on his skin.

“Oh, Hen. It’s so beautiful. I think you should get it.”

Bea is the only one who knows who he truly is. She is the first one he tells, after all. She hadn’t judged him then, and she still doesn’t judge him now. In fact, she openly encourages him to explore the part of himself that he keeps hidden away because of the watchful eye of the Crown.

“I- I don’t know. It’s just- It isn’t fitting for a prince, is it.”

Even he can hear how defeated he sounds in his own ears. An echo of his grandmother’s biting tongue, tutting at his behavior like an ever-present devil. A prince like him would have never been allowed to wear, let alone have, a piece of jewelry so…feminine, so insinuating of a life he isn’t meant to lead, a life his own grandmother would never approve of. Heavy is the Crown he wears, and it is suffocating.

He leaves the shop empty-handed and heavy-hearted.

Days later, he finds a box addressed to him sitting on his bed. He lifts the lid and what rests inside it knocks the air right out of his chest.

“I know it’s a few days late, but…do you like it?”

“Bea…you didn’t have to.”

“I know I didn’t. I wanted to. You’re my best friend, Hen. I like seeing you happy.”

He looks down at the pearl necklace, delicate in his hands, and his gaze becomes blurry with tears.

“Can you…can you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Hen.”

They stand in front of the mirror as she helps him close the clasp around his neck, the pearls sitting perfectly, gently, against his collarbone, and the boy staring back at him looks inexplicably…happy.

****

The constant appearances and camera-ready smiles have slowly begun to whittle him down to a shell of himself. The engagements have only seemed to ramp up since his father’s death marked the beginning of the Fox family’s detriment. The Crown has a reputation to uphold, and so under the orders from the Queen herself, Henry is carted off around the world, as the family’s sole representative, to make sure everyone sees how normal and happy the royal family is, when truly, they are anything but.

But it all becomes too much eventually, and he sneaks off needing a moment alone, a moment to be Henry Fox and not Prince Henry of England. To breathe and not have the heavy weight of the Crown looming over him.

He buys the earrings on a whim. He tells the jeweler they are a gift for his mother as he watches her pack them into a small velvet box. She gushes to him about the pearls, telling him how they’re ethically farmed from their supplier in Japan. She explains how the cooler waters in which they’re farmed cause the pearls to grow more slowly, making them more compact and giving them more luster than the average pearl.

He simply smiles and nods, half-listening. He glances over his shoulder and sees the lone PPO he wrangled onto this impromptu journey and his equerry still stationed at the door.

He takes the bag, cream and discreet, and turns to leave immediately.

“Finished, Your Royal Highness?”

He wordlessly nods at Shaan and disappears out the door and into the black car waiting for him at the curb. When they arrive back at Kensington Palace, he goes to his room, feigning exhaustion as an excuse. Shaan fortunately leaves him be, letting him know that he does not have any more engagements for the rest of the day.

Henry sits on the edge of the bed, pulls out the small felt box containing the earrings and sets it down. He then reaches into his bedside table and pulls out the box that holds the necklace Bea had gotten for him on his twenty-second birthday and places it down next to the earrings.

He releases an unsteady breath and waits a beat, before getting up to check that the door is locked. He knows no one will bother him at this time of day—Shaan will make sure of it—but he still goes to check anyway. He takes both boxes to the dresser, the mirror sitting right above it. He takes the necklace out first and caresses the pearls with his fingertips. He doesn’t have Bea’s help this time, so it takes some moments of fumbling before he manages to clasp it around his neck. He runs his fingers along the smooth surface of the pearls once it’s secured, cool against his skin, and lets out another breath.

Then, he opens the second, smaller box. The hinges are smooth as he lifts the lid and reveals the pearl earrings sitting prettily on a bed of felt. He lifts one to examine it. The silver hoop is cool between his fingertips, and a droplet of pearl hangs from it with a chain of delicate filigree.

He takes extra care to put them on. The left ear goes on first, and then, the right. They slip right through the holes that have miraculously not closed up after years of not wearing any earrings.

He stares at himself in the mirror for a long moment and watches as his eyes turn bright with tears. They spark with a newfound confidence that had laid dormant for years, beaten out of him by his grandmother’s incessant rules and expectations. But he sees now, as he stands there adorned in pearlescent jewelry, that she was not successful.

This is Henry Fox. Not the Prince. Not the grandson of Queen Mary. And absolutely no one is allowed to take this away from him.

Continue on AO3

#firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrb #rwrb fic #red white royal blue #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #henry is a pretty pretty princess #my fic

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sunnydayroleplay · 1 year

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How does jack react if his sunshine got murdered by an unknown killer?

Oh yes, angst hour. My favorite time of day where I have all the power in the world to end this story. And to make it worse, it's gonna be your birthday. I don't care if it is or not, it is now. You've picked the wrong headcannon. Suffer the consequences.

This fic includes: Murder, Weapons such as: Guns, Mentions of being tortured, Blood/Gore but it's not heavily described. Viewer/Reader: Desecration is advised, if you do not feel comfortable with any of these topics or as you read, please do not feel compelled to finish, and just click on another post :)

It was all over the news. Specifically in your area. Not that you would know, but what are you gonna do? You've been murdered. You went to work like any other day, Jack didn't go surprisingly but you thought he had something planned so you didn't argue against it. The sky was just brightly blue, the sun slowly crept to flaunt it's rays, the birds sang their song while you were in the one and the only Popov's Big Top Yogurtopiaaa! It was not as fun as you were paid to make it be. You sat around, just waiting for the time to go a little bit faster so you could clock out and head out. But, instead of walking to your car and happily reclining in the drivers seat, your mouth was covered, and you tried everything you could but you didn't make it. The details aren't exactly sunshine's and rainbows. To spare the gruesome aspect of it all, you were taken into a random strangers home, where you were beaten, tortured, grabbed on, cut, and your death sure as hell wasn't swift. You remember your final moments living, as the unknown person pulled your swinging head by your hair, With such precision, the unknown monster grabbed a revolver from their holster, and aimed it in between your seeping eyes. Despite all your screams and begs of mercy, the being cocked the gun, and shot you cold. Your blood and brain matter splattered all over the floor like a Picasso painting. Except there was no signature, and this wasn't a one of the kind artwork. Your lifeless body was dragged out of the chair it sat in, and shoved into a series of bags, soon into the back of a gray car. Your body rolled back and forth in the trunk through every stop, speed-bump until your own designated drop off was made. It wasn't long until your slowly decomposing body was found at the side of a high-way. Police cars swarmed your body, the lights flashing from miles away. A bag being brought out to put you in for further examination. All your family and loved ones were notified, and soon was Jack. Jack found out by turning the TV on accident while vacuuming the living room. He picked up the remote only to drop it again. The words coming out of it making him quake. "There has been a body spotted by a couple near South 123, the body is yet to be confirmed, but Police believe it's the body of [Age] year old [Gender}, [Your name]. More details are yet to be published."

"N-No...s-sunshine..This can't be real, it can't. NO! I WON'T BELIEVE IT!"

Jack was stunned. From what he planned, you were going to come home safely, with a nice birthday cake made just by him and a gift. Instead, your gift was your own demise. He was pissed. Angry. Who took his sunshine's light, and where were they now? Sure, you could just report him to the police, have him arrested, right? Hah! No. Jack wanted revenge. He needed it. The...monster that did this must go. They got to die. They have to suffer just like how they made you. There's no if's, and's about it. He won't rest until they were found. "You..I'm gonna get you..!! You're going to get it! I-I'l find you! You'll pay for what you've done!" At least you got what you wanted. For time to pass by faster. It's been years since your death. Your ghost hasn't yet developed enough to say hello to your beautiful love, Jack. But enough with that. Your beautiful love still didn't stop for nothing. The cunt who took your life was still there living theirs. And after all those years, he finally figured out who. He figured out who took the life of his darling, and he was more ecstatic than he was with you. Smiling innocently, he took a knife he kept with him ever since your death arose on the news. He kept an array of items from you or of yours ever since your death to have something to keep him going. The knife he bit it horizontally within his teeth, he went over to the nearest T.V, crawling from the outside and into it, walking around a mass explosion of darkness and entrances. Walking around the darkness he spotted your killer. His laugh was frivolous when he saw him. Without hesitation he made his way into his entrance and slowly but surely made his way out of the killers screen. The person backed away in a hurry, yet that's the only thing going to be hurried in this case. "So, we finally meet. Such a shame it'll be only time we will." "P-Please! I'm sorry, I-I didn't mea-" "You didn't mean too?! Hah! You're a funny guy, you didn't mean to brutally torture them, you didn't mean to shoot them, you didn't mean to dump their body! It was all an accident I'm sure!" "I..Wh-Wait! We can talk about this, ahah...!" "You've had enough time to talk." Jack had enough time waiting, he wanted to finish what he came for and that was it. No time for small talk that was going to be pointless in the end. He pulled them so close that he could just hear the blood pumping inside their body. As the blood gushed out the moment he jammed the knife into their body, he repeatedly stabbed them, he gouged their eyes out, he cut down their limbs one by one in front of a mirror so that that could see the body horror that was happening to them. And the best part? "Man found dead in his home. His own insides found hanging from wall to wall. Police have no leads."

#jacktor #sdj jack #sdj jacktor #sdj joseph #sunny day jack #swwsdj #somethings wrong with sunny day jack #sunny day jack roleplay #sunny day jack joseph

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shytastemakerthing · 5 months

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Hi! I was wondering if I could please get an Ikemen matchup, I'm torn between Sengoku, Prince and Vampire so whichever is great!

I'm an INFP Gemini, 5'4, I'm covered in burns scars but I'm not self conscious about them. I'm the dad friend of my group so naturally I come with terrible dad jokes and puns! I can be quite annoying (in a lovable way?) and have been known to wake friends up at crazy hours to talk to them. I'm also awkward and I'm terrible at introductions if you couldn't already tell 😂

I tend to hide my emotions but I crave someone who can understand and accepts me for who I am. I daydream and zone out a lot but I'm also observate and am a good listener! On top of all this I'm also sassy, sarcastic and stubborn...I can also be a bit lazy and somewhat lack ambition.

My hobbies include: Gaming, painting, drawing, art history, knitting, crochet, reading, learning languages, watching anime, watching the same shows on repeat, baking watching my favourite sport and learning new things!

My love language (receiving) is acts of service and quality time. I love giving/making gifts and Christmas is my favourite time of the year (I go absolutely bonkers for Christmas!) And I'm secretly a romantic at heart.

My big three anime kins are:

Kaido (Saikki K)

Chifuyu (Tokyo Revengers)

Yamaguchi (Haikyuu)

I hope this information is enough,- I'm so bad at talking about myself but I wanted to try cause I've wanted a matchup for so long!

Hello and thank you so much for the request! Thank you for being so patient with me on this so I really do hope that you like your match-up! Since there were several options to choose from (and I would love to be able to do all 3 but I'm trying to conserve the time to try and get all the remaining requests out, I may come back for the others), I went with Ikemen Vampire as I haven't done one of those just yet!

Tw: None

I match you with............

Vincent Van Gogh

Who better for someone who enjoys painting and drawing such as yourself than a world wide known artist who is responsible for creating some of the most memorable pieces of artwork in history?

Now, it took some time to get into the relationship. The issue wasn't with Vincent, as he really was a nice person who grew rather fond of you. It was getting past his brother, Theo, before things finally took off. Theo is just protective of Vincent but seeing that you really do care for his brother and mean no harm, he starts to warm up to you, most of the time, at least.

I can see both of you having a lot of painting dates. They're honestly really fun and entertaining. Both of you meet up really just anywhere, he'll even bring some food and drinks over (try not to mistake the drinking water for the paint water.... I've done that too many times), while everything is being set up. And a lot of the time, he does end up painting you.

He will certainly feed into your love languages. Sometimes quality time is all that is needed when you are with someone you love. Just the presence of them is enough to make one happy. Acts of service, Vincent is a gentleman. Service is something he will certainly show to you, whether it be elaborate or just something calming and simple such as just bringing you your favorite drink after a long day.

If you were to ever give him something as a gift, it is now his most cherished possession and he now has a stand/shelf in his room dedicated just for the things that you have gifted him. They are his prized treasures.

Overall, his love for you is as endless as the stars that he paints. You are his beautiful and amazing muse, the one that he cares for so deeply that it makes his chest hurt. And he wears it all with a smile on his face.

#matchups #romantic #ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire vincent #ikemen vincent van gogh #ikemen vincent x reader #ikemen vampire vincent van gogh x reader #shy answers #shy writes

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ao3feed-bnha-rarepair · 2 years

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Coriolis

Coriolis by LunaLucrea

“What?” Izuku has gone stock still in his hold, breath held on his inhale as he seems to consider what Rody has suggested.

“Let's face it, Hero, history suggests a pattern when it comes to the two of us. When cops tell us to stand down and surrender, what do we do instead?”

Izuku seems to come to life again in his arms, as he pulls back long enough to stare at him with those big, beautiful, hopeful green eyes, mouth gaping for a moment before he whispers, “We run.”

Rody can feel the sharp, vicious smile tugging at the corner of his lips as Pino crows from her new perch atop Izuku's curls. “We run.”

Or, Alternatively, Izuku Midoriya will do anything to find his mom.

Words: 15880, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of This is war! (2022 Fic fight fics!)

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Rody Soul, Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Inko, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Bakugou Katsuki, Shinsou Hitoshi

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Rody Soul, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Shinsou Hitoshi & Rody Soul, Shinsou Hitoshi/Todoroki Shouto, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku & Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Rody Soul, Midoriya Inko & Midoriya Izuku

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Quirk Accident, Cults, Kidnapping, Minor domestic fluff, They're In Love Your Honor, supportive Rody Soul, Midoriya Izuku is a Mess, Discord: No Writing Academia Fic Fight 2022, Future Fic, My Hero Academia: World Heroes' Mission Spoilers, Minor, Pro Hero Class 1-A, Attempted domestic terrorism, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Feels, Rody Soul is a Little Shit, Rody Soul is Whipped, Sorry but it's true, Poor Izuku, She's his mom, Prompt Fic, Gift Fic, Digital Art, artwork included, love you cat, Minor Dadzawa, Minor Dadmight, POV Rody Soul, POV Midoriya Izuku, trigger, But not on who you think, rody and aizawa sass each other, and make semi-inappropriate jokes at each other, because they're both little shits

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39992376

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Rodydeku #♥#Rodydeku #Erasermic·#🐤#🐰#⚣#R:T #A:Luna #Dadzawa #Dad Might #Future Fic

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chiptrillino · 2 years

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Hi Chip,

I wanted to let you know that I love your artwork. Everything you produce is stunning. Our world as it is makes pursuing our passions very hard. By the end of the day we are often too tired to do them. But. Our passions inspire others to chase after their own. Art in any form is self-nourishing, not only for the artist, but for art itself. I never would have started writing "1000 Ballads Between Summer and Fall" if not for you.

Many beautiful things exist because creating is an act of love, and love always pays in dividends. Love inspires. It creates. It rebels. And sometimes, you don't have to finish. Unfinished works are still works that are worthy. Think of how many shattered statues we look upon in awe. Or how many half-drawn sketches live in golden frames. Or how many stories are half-written, abandoned, but are still so moving. Now, pretend we are in the middle of the desert. You do not have to finish. You only need to feel joy in what you do.

I would be thrilled to see any incomplete drawing of yours. Imagine what any of those drawings could inspire in me or others? Perhaps we might finish that drawing as a sculpture, a poem, a meal, a story. You might never see these creations, but you caused that ripple. It is capitalism that demands completion and perfection, because only finished projects sell. But we are not on this earth to sell things. We are here to live life to the fullest.

If only the wealthy have the privilege of creating things, by virtue of being able to afford time, then we will only ever see the same things over and over again. And you, Chip, are very talented. Don't let the soulless machine of survival take away your gifts.

hello!

first of all, thank you. I can't truly express how good it felt to read this. and I know you wrote this for me but I hope anyone else that gets to read this ask can find some calm, a breath of fresh air or comfort in this constant tormenting rush surrounding us. time is something that is never enough. even though it's endless. it sifts through our fingers, and we get too distracted counting it instead of experiencing it. so thank you. for reminding me of all the beauty and creativity there is in life. created by accident or with intent. It's truly miraculous how a thought, a dream or a gesture can grow into something bigger connecting with others and living shared between us. and I am glad that I can share my works and create an impact. even if I am absent for some time a few people during this time will find my creation in this big world and hopefully feel some joy, in seeing it. and this is truly a big value I can call myself lucky to experience.

and you are right. there is no shame for any of us to post just a sketch, a wip or just an idea. It's the first step and it can be more.

I am amazed how my silly dream could inspire "1000 Ballads Between Summer and Fall". i love it! caught up to the last chapter yesterday. and I am sorry I am slow in commenting. but experiencing, influencing and connecting another indeed. you can describe and tell the life of a character so well. and you have a beautiful view to look at our world.

thank you, for sharing

#heads up i am gona print this out and stick it right next to my screen!#you write so sonderfully!#and this is defentiley something that is a struggle to keep in mind #exspecially when you are occupied to just function #with only problems over problems surounding you #projects can wait #and even if they are never compleated or brought to paper they existed and lived for the short time they were there #and smal distraction and joy thay gave are truly something priceless #that is btw also why i love fandoms #sure they can be awful but this whole... sharing what you created #doing projects toghetehr or for others #thats the fun then you are an artist #really... thank you!#there was a lot on my mind recently #i was sick #covered in work #then sickly again #and then there was family drama #lives is full of ups and downs #and sometimes you need a smal help leading your view back to what matters #its raining against my window now #i am truly lucky!

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alllinesarebeautiful · 10 months

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Day 335 art meditation, 7.15.23. Ocean Heart-Art. 🩵💚💜

This is some of the ‘last’ Ocean Abalone Heart-Art. ‘Last’ in quotes because Heart-Art never ends, and, with all the courage in the world, neither do our heart spaces. I didn’t have that courage in the last two weeks - a familiar kind of quitting on myself - but I do have courage today.

I turned 55 on July 5th, and I was struck with how easy it is to create the lives we don’t want. Conversely, it’s just as easy to create the lives we do want, if I drop the resistance. This birthday came and went and I saw clearly what choices I have not been making, but also how I am getting closer to what I do want, the big one being I have time and freedom and silence to listen to my heart all day …

But there is something I have been doing the last 6 months - sharpening my inner space, and staying there more than 5 minutes a day. The third eye space that produces ideas, but isn’t something I can put on my resume. Every resume year I learn how to feel that heart space, MORE. (Someday I’m going to write my real resume, the one that comes from my heart, not the one we write for our Egos.)

I do know that if I manage to get to this inner space for 5 minutes a day, the whole day feels better. This must be what the concept of Alignment feels like.

One of those ethereal moments - which feel crazy to speak about - I realized that I will step into my power now. Even now as I write, the sense is not as strong as it was the day I felt it, but I do remember realizing that I have a lot of gifts and I’m going to use them all. There is no one way to do this, and yet there is so much advice out there …

That was my biggest birthday gift. The spiritual lesson is to feel things from the inside out, I’ve known that intellectually, but I finally felt it. My big tiny opening.

🩵

I love this idea of showing up in the world as a way to send out signals. Rumi said, “What you seek, is seeking you.” I have to use my words and art as smoke signals. You won’t know that you are in search of me until you find me, and I won’t know I am in search of you until we meet. Whatever the thing, whoever the people, it hasn’t been formed yet.

💜

So here is another Paper Dress I’m preparing.

💚

Cutting out paper dresses and wall art is a slow meditative and feels so old-fashioned. Illustrator and Photograph are my paint brushes, tools and canvas … I do enough work in Adobe, so I want to take as much of my art into making with my hands ... Digital art doesn’t have scissors or tape! It takes all day to print and cut and tape, totally inefficient, which is the way our hearts work. It’s that slow-is-faster idea …

🩵

I like my artistic method now, but it’s taken me a decade to make peace with it - to completely destroy the first beautiful piece of art and build it back up again, into something else, a new stage … And most important, see how I feel about it, no thinking.

💚

And finally, as I rebuild my 12 year old self up, I LOVE that this scarf that I knitted happens to match this artwork. The only purpose is JOY …

(Randomly adding a string of paper hearts which I’m hanging in our hallway that was a birthday present! 😍😍😍)

I want the way the colors of my art, the dress, the scarf unify and blend to somehow help us understand that we all love each other … If we could only stop the inner resistance.

🩵💚💜🩵💚💜🩵💚💜

Love Anne

#day335 #printstore #nft #prints #paperprints #art #heart #heartart #alllinesarebeautiful #artsoulfully #brandmessage #feel #open #vulnerability #love #abalone #ocean #gratitude #grateful

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blue-eyed-bloodstains · 2 years

Text

Christmas is coming. Who are you buying gifts for? I never have money so Zach buys the gifts and I have no fuckin clue for this year yet... When somebody intimidates you, how do you usually act around them? awkward as fuck and caught off guard Is your favorite singer in a band or does he or she ride solo? both actually...so Alexz Johnson and JoJo are my favorite female solo singers, and band wise? Chester in Linkin Park but he’s dead so...David from Disturbed is a big one I guess for band Did your parents ever hang your old artwork up on the walls? not that I remember but I know my mom kept all my projects and drawings and stuff throughout kindergarten and elementary school in boxes before a hurricane destroyed them in a flood Should guys always kiss the girl on a first date? depends...I usually was that girl and figures, when I decided to not do that anymore happened to be when I had my first date with my now fiance cause sparks were flying like a motherfucker and I just couldn’t stop myself from going for it and neither could he lol Which band has the corniest music videos? Corniest lyrics? I’d have to say Tenacious D but they’re also so creative and unique that I think “corny” isn’t the word for them cause they’re so clever Have any songs ever inspired you to play an instrument? umm I’m not sure I mean I’ve always wanted to learn the guitar, piano, and drums regardless...but as far as songs? more like I’m inspired to wanna be able to play covers of a bunch of my fave songs instrumentally once I learn how to play them, let alone make tunes for my own songs I’ve written over the years too What is the weirdest animal you’ve ever seen as a pet? our landlord owns the biggest raccoon I’ve ever seen in my life...his name is Ziggy and yeah they have him in a giant ass cage but 1) I’ve never seen anyone own a raccoon as a pet, or known if that’s even legal and 2) THE SIZE OF THIS FUCKER! SERIOUSLY! I didn’t know they got that big! What was your favorite computer game as a kid? computer? ohhh The Sims, hands down lol I rarely ever even played it the right way with a person/family...I mostly just made the houses and decorated and stuff :P Have you ever tried on your mom’s wedding ring? she never had one so no... What is your opinion on fruitcake? I don’t think I’ve ever tried one so idk, depending on the cake and how it’s made I’m sure I’d like it Do you know anyone who has a pet bunny? my dad and stepmom have two actually lol one’s a male called Franklin, he’s gray and HUUUUUGE, and the other is white and a girl named Maka (pronounced MUH-KYE) and she’s itty bitty tiny and they’re both soooo cute How do you feel about wolves? they’re beautiful and I always think of Balto lol “I’d be lost without you...” Does the song you’re listening to/last heard evoke any emotion for you? yeah I recently discovered a slower and higher pitched vocal of it on TikTok, the song is Only Love Can Hurt Like This by Paloma Faith Do you use Pinterest? no Do you have a favorite poem? there’s a few, plus I’ve written a few myself so... What is your OTP? Your NoTP? Harry/Hermione, Draco/Hermione from Harry Potter...Jude/Tommy from Instant Star...Klaus/Dave from The Umbrella Academy Do you like beef jerky? hell yes eat it all the time! Do you prefer ruffly or regular potato chips? both Favorite fictional world? Hogwarts If applicable, who was the first person you “came out” to? I’m not bi or gay so no one What’s one thing you’d like to do more? drink.... Do you own a camera tripod? no Have you ever picked out a song to listen to on a juke box? in an old school diner as a kid probably, yeah Has a Jehovah’s Witness ever showed up on your doorstep? yep several times, never listened just politely declined and closed the door Can you make yourself cry on purpose? yeah cause I got enough trauma to make it happen.... Do you have a retainer glued to the back of your teeth? no Please, tell me, you’ve played any kind of Mario game. of course! 90′s baby! Do you like Nickelback? hell fucking yes! always have since day one, always will and fuck all the haters! What would you do if your first love asked you back out? ......I know better now so I’d say no, especially since I’m engaged to my real true love right now Which parent do you respect the most? next subject... Who do you want with you when you’re scared? definitely Zach (fiance), that is if he’s even home long enough for it... Have you ever seen someone struggle with an addiction? yes, many including myself...it’s fucking hell on both sides, outside looking in and inside struggling yourself and having no control to stop it.. Do you play any zombie-killing video games? no but I’m a gamer, I’d love to just never had the money and never happened to own one that’s all lol Do you have a pet fish? no but as a kid I did try and own a goldfish, didn’t last long :P Have you tried the Beyond or Impossible Burger? Thoughts? I’ve had the Impossible Whopper several times and omfg was it so delicious like you literally couldn’t taste the difference! if anything it tasted way better than the “meat” patty! Have you ever had an aquarium in your house? no but I mean..wouldn’t mind having one except having to clean it lol Are you missing any teeth? yep was literally just talking about this with mom so get out of my head! What was/will be your first tattoo? my first and only tatt (SO FAR!!! NEEEEEEED MORE!) is on my wrist and it’s Harry Potter related. it’s a fan drawn version of the Deathly Hallows symbol, the word ‘always’ (Snape’s answer about Lily for you fans who know ;) ) in cursive underneath the triangle, and above the triangle three stars which are at the top corners in all the books Do you have any tattoos dedicated to someone special? not really look above, only have one so far and it’s nerdy not sentimental to this extent What is the next piercing you want to get? ooooh, umm I guess more for my ears since I have the generic first/one piercing in each ear so I’d like to punch in a few more going up my ears for more earring options Do you like ghost stories? hell yeah I love all of them! some may scare the shit outta me and traumarize the fuck out of me but still worth it Do you like to give people jump-scares? I hate them myself so even if I wanted to I’d never be able to think of one to do tot someone else lol Have you ever been in a toxic relationship? ha...yeah I grew up experiencing them so history repeats itself and I’ve followed the pattern sometimes... What website could you not live without? hmm years ago I’d say this but now I’d have to say Youtube Have you ever slept nude? I never did growing up but once I met Zach, he got me to try it...I don’t it regularly but every now and then I will and he made me feel confident enough to do it so it’s nice once in awhile but normally I have at least something on Do you have any distinctive birthmarks? I was born with one but it was a basal cell (cancerous tumor) on my forehead that I got removed at around 10 years old and got the huge scar across my forehead to show for it but regular birthmark? no Who is a famous person you could see yourself reading an autobiography about? Eminem for sure, and Alexz Johnson for reasons... What is the best horror movie, in your opinion? oh lord I’m a horror movie freak so it’s impossible to narrow down the list of faves Describe yourself with 3 fictional characters. Hermione Granger, Jude Harrison, and Grace from the show Saving Grace (Holly Hunter plays Grace) When was the last time you saw a photo of your ex? oh lord ummm idk...I guess just me going back through pics on FB of him What colour is your front door? off white Have you ever had a white hot chocolate? What did you think? yeah way too sweet and very filling Do you enjoy corn on the cob? hell yes! I fuckin love it! Have you ever bought alcohol or cigarettes for someone underage? no and I would never do that If you use Snapchat, have you ever had a screenshot taken of you? yep... Do you own an Xbox? no but I wish I did Has anyone done anything nice for you today? it’s 9:21pm and not really....I mean phone calls I guess from mom and texting Zach, my fiance who I live with but other than that nope

The last time you hung out with your sibling(s), what did you do? step sis and Christmas, she kept raving about how good I looked and was being sober for the first time in years for a holiday and kept hugging me...I loved it :D Have you ever been so lonely, you cried? all the time... If you were to have sex right now, would you use a condom? of course we can’t handle a baby right now for multiple reasons it wouldn’t be fair to the baby.... What would you do if you found out your last ex is engaged? I already have...and I surprisingly was finally okay with it.years ago I wouldn’t be Do you get along with your significant other’s family? omg of course! I love his folks so much and vise versa! they’re so supportive and so amazing I love them to dearh man! . How would you feel if a girl asked your boyfriend out for a drink? fiance and hell no...given my past experience/history of being cheated on, no way in hell. I trust him to death, don’t get me wrong so I know he’d never do this in my heart, but at the same time I know everyone has their limits so I still worry regardless... Who’s the last person you talked to about sex? wtf lol umm I guess mom? over the phone it was brought up with a joke so How long did it take you to get over your last ex? ....let’s not go here right now...

Who is the best female rocker? Why? musically? oh god so many lol Amy Lee from Evanescence, Hayley from Paramore, Taylor from The Pretty Reckless, etc Can you even taste a difference between Cheez-Its and Cheez Nips? actually yeah you can lol What color of roses do you find the prettiest? my personal fave are white roses so..white is a color even in crayons Have you ever seen an unwrapped mummy in person? no thank god

#survey #about me #bored

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: no fic-related news but i did get my first dose of the covid vaccine today so that’s exciting! GET VAXXED, PEOPLE! SPENCER WOULD WANT YOU TO!!

Masterlist

Chapter 20

“Hey Hotch,” Spencer knocked on his boss’s door.

Spencer got in extra early today to have his meeting with Hotch and hopefully tie up all the loose ends in his paperwork.

“Reid, come in,” Hotch gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and talking with Y/N and I think my time at the BAU is coming to an end,” Spencer said.

“I see,” Hotch leaned back in his chair, “Well, I think it goes without saying that you would certainly be missed. But, I’m not going to try to convince you to stay because I feel like this is a good decision for you...one I probably should have made myself if we’re being completely honest.”

“You made it work though, Jack loves his superhero dad,” Spencer reassured him, “I just can’t keep missing stuff after already missing six years. It’s too much and I certainly can’t focus on cases when I’m desperately wishing I was somewhere else.”

“How about this? We put you on temporary unpaid leave for a year. Then, you can either choose to come back or quit for good. This will give you plenty of family time and then you’ll see if you’re ever ready to return or not. It’s up to you. Also, if I just put you on leave, it can start as early as tomorrow. Instead of you just quitting and then having to put your two weeks in and be called away on more cases.”

“That sounds great, Hotch. Thank you so much for your understanding. If I don’t come back, it was a pleasure working with you. But I’m sure I will see you around at Rossi’s dinner parties,” Spencer grinned.

Hotch and Spencer hugged before pulling away to see the rest of the team filing into the bullpen.

“I guess I have to tell them,” Spencer sighed, knowing they would be a little disappointed at the sudden news.

“Hey guys, I have an announcement,” Spencer walked out of Hotch’s office.

“You have another secret daughter?” Derek joked.

“Y/N is pregnant?” Penelope guessed.

“You’re engaged?” Emily asked.

“Um no to all, I know this is a bit sudden and I apologize for that but effective tomorrow, I will be taking a year long leave from the BAU which may turn permanent,” Spencer spoke softly.

Silence filled the room.

“It’s not that I don’t love this job or you guys. You all know you are my best friends but I just really need to be home with my family right now,” Spencer explained.

Derek was the first to walk up to Spencer, “We’re gonna miss you around here, kid.”

He pulled Spencer in for a hug, ruffling up his hair.

Penelope was next in line to hug Spencer with a tissue already dabbing at her eyes.

“I hate to see you go, Boy Wonder, but I know it’s what’s best for you,” she said.

“I think Jo may be an even stricter boss than Hotch,” Rossi teased.

“She does have a tendency to get grumpy when she isn’t allowed to have ice cream for dinner,” Spencer laughed lightly, wiping the tears that were forming from his eyes.

“Please don’t ever stop talking. I know we tease you but I truly am going to miss your rambles,” Emily whispered.

“I’m just a phone call away,” he promised.

“You deserve this. Do not feel bad,” JJ reminded him.

He nodded in acknowledgement, his voice getting caught in the lump in his throat.

“We need a cake!” Penelope exclaimed, “I will not have the Good Doctor’s last day be cakeless especially with that sweet tooth of his.”

“On it,” Derek said, grabbing his keys.

“Decorations too! See if Party City has a Happy Retirement section!” she shouted after him.

“You’ve got it, baby girl,” Derek replied.

Spencer returned home in the evening with a cardboard box full of his belongings that once resided on his desk. 7 years of his career packed into one box. It seemed sad to him that such a big chapter of his life was closing.

But then, he walked inside. You and Jo had karaoke up on the TV screen. You both were currently in the middle of Wannabe by the Spice Girls. Jo even had her baseball cap on backwards to complete the look.

“If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends. Make it last forever, friendship never ends. If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give. Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is,” Jo sang.

Then you jumped in, “So, here's a story from A to Z. You wanna get with me, you gotta listen carefully. We got Em in the place who likes it in your face. You got G like MC who likes it on a

Easy V doesn't come for free, she's a real lady. And as for me, ha you'll see.”

“Slam your bodies down and wind it all around,” you both sang.

You turned around to see Spencer standing there and you let out a yelp.

“Oh no, please continue. Don’t stop on my account,” he grinned.

“Daddy!” Jo jumped up into his arms.

He moved Jo to his hip as you approached.

“Hi, love,” you greeted him with a kiss.

He was no longer sad. This was the right choice. This is where he belonged.

“Shhh” is the first thing you heard as you awoke followed by the quiet rattling of dishes.

“Jo, no!” you heard Spencer whisper-shout, “I said not until Mommy wakes up.”

“I’m up,” you muttered into your pillow.

You turned to the side of your bed to see Jo standing there with a tray of food and Spencer behind her with a bouquet of flowers.

You smiled softly.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” they both cheered.

“Thank you, my loves,” you gave them both kisses, accepting the tray from Jo as Spencer set the flower vase down on your bedside table.

The food on the tray consisted of a mug of coffee, a cup of orange juice, bacon, a bowl of blueberries, and a big chocolate chip pancake with sliced strawberries for the eyes and nose and a whipped cream smile.

“Very artistic,” you grinned.

Spencer returned next to you in bed, getting under the covers. He was wearing a plain gray fitted t-shirt, flannel PJ pants, and his glasses.

“Jo, you can go get your present for Mommy while she eats,” he suggested.

Once Jo left the room to go retrieve her gift, you planted a much messier kiss on Spencer’s lips.

“Not that I’m complaining but what was that for?” he smirked.

“You know how sexy I told you those glasses make you look,” you stated, taking a bite of a strip of bacon.

“I’ll keep them on all day then as part of your gift,” he smiled.

Jo crawled on to the bed with a wrapped box and an envelope taped to it. The card was clearly homemade by Jo and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Look at this beautiful artwork!” you exclaimed, opening the card.

Inside was a gift card for a spa downtown surrounded by Jo’s doodles.

“JJ said that place was really nice. There’s enough on there for you and a friend to get a full day of pampering,” Spencer said.

“Well, that’s good that she likes it because I will probably bring her along as my fellow mom. Thank you both,” you smiled.

Jo pushed the wrapped box towards you. You opened it to find a multi-colored beaded necklace.

“I made it for you, Mommy,” Jo beamed as you put it on over your head.

“That is so very thoughtful of you,” you kissed her forehead, “It fits me perfectly and you even included my favorite color.”

“I planned a picnic for today but if you would rather stay home and relax all day, I totally get it. Jo and I can go to the park and you can have some peace and quiet,” Spencer offered.

“Are you kidding me? It’s called Mother’s Day, I want to spend some time with the little girl who made me the luckiest one in the entire world,” you smiled.

“Picnic, it is then. I’ll get Jo all dressed and the bag packed. Here, let me take that,” Spencer left the room, balancing Jo on one hip and your tray of dirty dishes on the other.

You were really going to have to bring your all for Father’s Day next month.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader #cm fanfic #criminal minds

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seeyalaterinnovator · 3 years

Text

The Grandmaster and the Queen - Vasily Borgov x reader

Title: The Grandmaster and the Queen

Word count: 1.9K

Attention: Lastachka - meaning little swallow, a term of endearment

pozhaluysta - please in russian

lyubimaya- beloved

...

Contently, you sat across from Vasily, who was carefully analyzing the chess board that was laid out in front of him. He always liked to piece out his games after a match, trying to find weaknesses in his plays, though there never were any. You noted when his head would shake slightly as he hesitantly moved around a piece or two, likely trying to figure out what his opponent was thinking when they made a specific move. You also loved the way he would grab his jaw, and his eyes would squint when he was really thinking about something, especially when it was a move that was unexpected. He had the gift of anticipating moves and understanding the chain effect it would cause on the board.

You, on the other hand, had your fingers firmly around a hoop that contained a beautiful array of embroidered flowers that you had stitched on yourself, without a pattern at that. The two of them often shared quiet moments like this, enjoying the close company without much thought to the matter. It was the norm for you guys, and you both loved it.

However, there had been something looming in the back of your mind, egged on by your watching today’s match that was adjourned against Miss Harmon. You couldn’t help but think about their game, and how invigorating it must have felt. Even the reporters noticed how relaxed Vasily seemed, making moves that were unusual and risky, even for himself - the reigning world champion.

Unbeknownst to you, your leg had been bouncing agitatedly out of habit, ruffling the skirt of your plaid dress over and over again. The sound caused him to break his gaze from his game, intent on trying to figure out what exactly was on your mind.

“What is the matter, Lastachka?” He asked, peering over at you from behind the little pieces he was dancing around. His deep, honeyed tone was almost enough to coax out what was troubling you, but you would rather bite your tongue than bother him the night before a big match. So instead you turned your gaze back to the needlepoint that you had been working on. Endlessly, you weaved in and out the purple and pink threads through the canvas in an intricate pattern - the vibrant colors a stark contrast between the precise, crisp black and white that was in front of them on the chess board.

“Nothing is the matter, my love.” You stated, your gaze unwavering from your artwork.

Vasily pondered his next move prudently, as if he were pondering a move that could win a match. Sitting back in his chair, he watched you intently for a moment, searching for any sign as to what was on your mind. Your usual, expressive features were rather stoic, but he knew you well enough to see that your features were the key to understanding your mood. He noted a small downward tug at your lacquered lip that was out of place. “Y/n, I know you well enough to know that something is the matter.” He stated, matter of factly, a soft lilt in his voice.

You couldn’t bring herself to say it quite yet, so instead you readjusted your canvas and once again began to weave and plot out where your thread was to be placed. The room felt stuffy at the time, causing you to shift uncomfortably against the leather chair which you were perched on. You wished you could have opened the window that was just adjacent to you, perhaps it would have given him something to focus on other than this conversation. It took a few moments for you to compose your thoughts carefully, to make sure that you weren’t bitter or jealous in your words.

“Wouldn’t you be happier with someone more intelligent?” You asked, though your tone sounded more like you were implying. You dare not take your gaze away from your work, too nervous to hear the answer. Your hands were practically trembling with nerves, but you would show no sign of it to the man opposite of you. The room quieted, except for the repeated sounds of the thread being drawn through the canvas.

Mr. Borgov was known for being a man of few words, and of even fewer expressions but at this moment he was dumbfounded. His thick brows knitted together, concerned that he had given you any inclination that he was unhappy - of course he wasn’t. He stared at you impassively, trying to decipher where this was coming from. Carefully, he stretched out an arm, fingers curling around the hoop you were intently working on, and pushed it down so that it was laying in your lap.“Lastachka, look at me.” He paused, waiting for you to comply with his simple request.

Once you were able to muster up enough courage to look him directly into his eyes-despite the growing pit in your stomach, he finally proceeded. “Where is this coming from?” There was a slight waiver in his voice.

“I see how you light up when you play against Miss Harmon, how she is intellectually your equal, and can even keep you on your toes. Don’t you think you would be better suited with someone like her?” As much as it hurt you to say those words, it hurt him even more to know that you thought that low of yourself.

Vasily’s lips pursed into a thin line before he stood up and rounded the table, knocking a few of the pawns over in the process. He knelt before her, outstretching his large hands so that they were caressing the curve of her flushed cheeks. “ I am happy with things just the way they are.”

You let out a dissatisfied sigh, “Vasya, I’m serious! Look at me. I work on needlepoint, my hobbies are domestic at best, you deserve someone who is your equal, someone you can strategize with and push you to be your best.”

For the first time that night, Mr. Borgov frowned and dropped one hand to her thigh, patting it comfortingly through her dress. “I reiterate, I am happy just the way things are. Nor do you give yourself enough credit.”

Vasily’s blue eyes were the most expressive part of him, no doubt. Anya could feel the sorrow he deeply felt, and the tenderness he wished to show her. They were both warm and inviting, and yet so sad all at the same time, and for that she felt guilty. The weight of his hand resting on her thigh felt like a ton, a gentle reminder that she had hurt him with her words.

Carefully, he stood up shaking his head, and silently waited next to you for a moment. You returned to your needlepoint, weaving the thread back into an intricate pattern. He admired your work, how each stitch was perfectly placed, something that not everyone could do with such precision and grace. It took careful planning and consideration in order to do what you did, he certainly wasn’t that skilled in his mind. His arm snaked around your shoulders, pulling you toward him so that your cheek was pressed into the dark wool of his suit coat.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to revel in the compassionate gesture. Vasily radiated a mild demeanor as he stood there, just taking in the small connection between the two of you.

Once again he leaned down, only this time to press a tender kiss to the top of your head before smoothing back some hair that had fallen in front of your face. “You are smarter than you think. Play a game of chess with me, pozhaluysta.” He gestured toward the chess board in front of you.

“You know I don’t play chess, not like you.” You looked over at him from behind your hoop, a slight smile tugging at the corner of your lip. While you weren’t a complete stranger to the game given your surroundings most of the time, you were a novice at best. Still, you hated to tell him no - loving when he invited you into his world that he was so wrapped up in.

“Will you just try? I think you will find you know more than you think.” His expression was warm and sure, he had every confidence you could at least start a game.

“Very well then.” You nodded, carefully folding up your needlework and putting it in the bag on the floor.

Before departing from your side, he ran his warm fingers comfortingly over the back of your shoulders, then took his place back at the seat across from you. You eyed the pieces, making sure they were all lined up just so, each one in it’s own spot. As always, the grandmaster played the white, though he would let you play that color in a heartbeat if you asked. With a half smile, you started the clock and looked to Vasily for his move.

He half chuckled and moved his pawn to E4, tapping the clock to tag you into the game. With nimble fingers, you moved your own pawn to C5 without much thought, instinctive. As he picked up his next piece he glanced over at you, this time his smile erupting from his lips. “And that is?” He questioned, the noise of his other pawn hitting the wooden board echoed through the room.

“A sicilian defense.” You replied, your neatly manicured fingers tucked neatly under your chin as you pondered your next move.

“Very good, Lastachka.” Vasily commended, giving you a proud nod.

“Everyone knows the Sicilian defense Vasya.” You teased, allowing your pawn to take his own, and setting it off to the side.

“On the contrary. You knew it was a favorable approach for you playing as the black pieces.”

A peaceful silence fell between the two of you as you got into a comfortable rhythm of moving pieces around the board. Admittedly, you loved the soft click of the pieces atop the wooden board, as well as punching the little time clock with the piece if you were able to take one. He smiled affectionately over at you each time you pondered your move, adoring the little tug of your lips to the side while you strategized.

Vasily began his next move, and you happily looked him over, noting just how tranquil he looked, at ease in front of a chess board. This was like his home, everything he found comfortable in life, and you were grateful that he was willing to have you be a part of it. He looked so gentle, tucked back into the chair, his square jaw relaxed.

“Vasya?” You voice was incredibly soft, almost imperceptible, except for his ever attentive ears.

“Yes, Lastachka?” He paused, setting his rook down so that he could give you his full attention.

“May I sit with you? I want to be close.”

Without hesitation, he nodded and pushed his chair back, patted his lap, signaling for you to take a seat. Your stature compared to his broad shoulders was petite once you settled yourself atop his lap. You fit easily into him, able to tuck yourself sideways so that you were resting securely against his chest.

Vasily’s heart beat resolutely, which you could feel through the fabric of his shirt. With your head tucked against his shoulder, your nimble fingers reached out to tinker with the fabric of his yellow necktie, loosening it just a bit. He was always so proper it seemed.

“Oh, lyubimaya.” He sighed contentedly, fingertips beginning to draw circles into the exposed skin of your thigh. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably the same thing, winning match after match, traveling around the world. Doing what you love.” You remark, pausing briefly, only to take one of your hands around his cheek, pressing it to your lips for a kiss, “But I’m glad you allow me to tag along.”

Note: I just binge watched the queens gambit and I am completely obsessed. I high key fell in love with Borgov, even though we didn’t get to see all THAT much of him outside of the matches. So please enjoy my own little slice of what I think he would be like.

If anyone would like to request anything reader x borgov please send it my way!

#tqg #tqg fan fiction #fan fiction #Vasily Borgov #Borgov #the queens gambit #fandom #Vasily borgov x reader #Borgov x reader #age gap implied #60s #chess #imagine #assurance #comfort fic

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

NMJ is the only one that knows bc he’s the only one that NHS truly trusts, he’s the only one who knows why NHS focuses so much in painting and art, NHS doesn’t know why or how but with a little bit of spiritual energy he’s able to bring what he paints in paper to the real world and with that the Nie sect has the beasts of legends under their command

on ao3

“How about you draw a flower?” Nie Mingjue said without much conviction. It was hard to have conviction when you knew it was pointless.

“No!” Nie Huaisang shouted, unsurprisingly, because toddlers always shouted. They seemed to have a great deal of feelings and sound for such small frames. “Taotie!”

Nie Mingjue grimaced. “No, no, not Taotie,” he said quickly. Never Taotie, not again. “How about the Baihu? Nice fuzzy tiger?”

“No!”

“Fenghuang? You like birds.”

Nie Huaisang considered it. “I like birds,” he agreed.

Nie Mingjue heaved a sigh of relief. “Me, too,” he said enthusiastically. “I love birds.”

He had never had especially strong feelings about birds, but he was willing to develop some.

“Okay,” Nie Huaisang said, and patted his thigh comfortingly. “I’ll draw you a bird, da-ge.”

“…thanks,” Nie Mingjue said.

When Nie Huaisang was done, he proudly presented Nie Mingjue with the results of his work.

Nie Mingjue put the baby phoenix in the new aviary he’d secretly had constructed behind his father’s back, thinking to himself that the high-grade construction materials he’d insisted on were totally worth losing his allowance for the next year.

The phoenix chick - it looked like a plucked chicken with maybe three feathers total - weakly coughed smoke.

Because of course it did.

Sometimes Nie Mingjue wished that he could just tell someone about Nie Huaisang’s unusual gift – it was a pretty big burden to bear, and he really wasn’t sure he was old enough for this type of responsibility – but no one else deserved to know. If they didn’t have the good taste to like Nie Huaisang when he was no one and nobody, pointless and useless, they didn’t deserve the benefits of knowing him now that he could do stuff.

Even if it was weird stuff.

Stuff like his ability to summoning the things he drew into existence.

Even things that might not really exist.

Besides, the thought of Nie Huaisang getting wrapped up into war and politics when he was still so young –

No, better to just store away what he made and hope he grew out of it.

And no more Taoties.

“Lan Zhan said his uncle shows people his artwork,” Nie Huaisang said, sitting on Nie Mingjue’s table in the family study. “Why don’t you ever show my artwork?”

“You do art?” their father asked absently, most of his attention on the report he was reading.

“Huaisang does great calligraphy,” Nie Mingjue interjected very quickly. “You’ve seen it – it’s beautiful. And his poems are very well crafted, too.”

“But Lan Zhan said –”

Nie Mingjue mentally resigned himself to not being friends with Lan Xichen any longer, no matter how well they’d gotten along, on the basis that the other boy would probably take it personally when Nie Mingjue murdered his brother.

“He also said stuff about rules,” he said. “Hundreds and hundreds of rules. Do you want to listen to all of those, too?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said sulkily, five years old and bitter with it. “But…”

“How about we show Lan Wangji your aviary?” Nie Mingjue coaxed. “Go ask him if he’d like to see it. I bet he’s never seen anything like that – and you can ask him what type of animal he likes best, too!”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes went wide at the thought and he dashed off.

“You spoil him far too much,” their father commented. “An aviary – you talk about it more than he does, and you’re always getting birds to fill it up for him, too. Why are you so devoted to him learning to like birds?”

“Better than him liking fierce beasts,” Nie Mingjue said, omitting to mention exactly where he obtained the birds that filled the aviary. “Or corpses.”

“If he liked fierce beasts, perhaps he’d be more martially inclined.”

No, we would be, Nie Mingjue thought. He’d gotten a lot of spare practice with Baxia trying to fight corpses that had no business being there during the period in which Nie Huaisang had gotten temporarily interested in the things in his father’s stories – and that was before Nie Huaisang had learned about yao.

“I don’t want him growing up morbid, that’s all,” he said.

“You’re his brother, not his nursemaid,” their father said, a little exasperated. “Nor are you his mother. Why are you fussing over him so?”

Nie Mingjue huffed and shook his head. “How goes recruitment for the border?” he asked instead, and listened to his father tell him about how people barely a year or two older than him were being sent to risk death in the name of sect honor.

Not Nie Huaisang, he promised himself. Not yet.

He’d tell his father when Nie Huaisang was old enough to handle the consequences.

“Huaisang, didi,” Nie Mingjue said, and tried to smile, even though it pained him. “Can you do me a favor? A really, really big favor?”

Nie Huaisang sniffed, clutching at his arms and shaking. “What, da-ge?”

“You remember Jiwei? A-die’s saber? Can you draw that for me, please?”

It only made it worse.

“Da-ge?”

“Yes, Huaisang?” Nie Mingjue asked, scowling at the map. It didn’t get any better the longer he looked at it, but maybe if he kept glaring he could cow it into submission.

“Don’t you want me to help?”

Nie Mingjue looked up at where Nie Huaisang was wringing his hands by the door. “Help? With what?”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes at him, like it was Nie Mingjue being dense instead of him having started a conversation in the middle. “Uh, with border defense?”

“Why would I ask you to help with that?” Nie Mingjue asked blankly, then realized how his words could be misconstrued. “Not that I wouldn’t ask you to help, of course, but you’ve never really liked battlefield strategy, and anyway you are only twelve –”

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang whined. “I meant drawing!”

“…as in maps?”

Nie Huaisang’s glare could light fires.

Nie Mingjue coughed and put aside his work to focus on his brother. “Huaisang, why do you think I would use your drawings in planning out a possible battle?”

“Because they’re useful?” Nie Huaisang said, crossing his arms. “I can make things appear, da-ge, just by drawing them. Not sure if you’ve noticed, but that’s not something that normal people can do.”

“I know,” Nie Mingjue said. “It’s not. But just because it’s not normal doesn’t mean it’s not a wonderful ability, Huaisang.”

Nie Huaisang looked a little bit appeased.

“But just because it’s wonderful doesn’t mean I’m going to abuse your ability,” Nie Mingjue continued. “You should be playing, not working, and if anyone tells you otherwise, you tell me and I’ll straighten them out.”

Nie Huaisang came up and hugged him. “So it’s not that you’re not ashamed of me being weird and useless?”

“I think we’ve already established that an ability like yours is far from useless. And I don’t care how weird you are, principles are principles: you’re too young to be used for battle. Sorry, Huaisang; my hands are tied.”

Nie Huaisang laughed at him and left, looking much happier.

“So what would you like?” Nie Huaisang asked, eyes sparkling. “Me and my brush are at the ready, here to help!”

Nie Mingjue rubbed his forehead. “If you’re sure…”

“Da-ge! I’m seventeen – you were already sect leader for two years by my age. And it’s not like I’m going out there on the front lines or anything; I’m just going to draw some stuff for you.”

“You say ‘just’,” he grumbled. “It does drain your qi, you know. That’s why you took such a long time to form a golden core…”

“Yes, but I did get there eventually, didn’t I? And anyway, it’s fine, I’ll do it instead of my usual landscapes. What would you like? A dragon to devour our enemies? The white tiger, nipping at their heels? A taotie –”

“No Taotie.”

“You’re so weird about that,” Nie Huaisang complained, rolling his eyes again. “Fine. Then what?”

“Sabers,” Nie Mingjue said, giving in. “Standard steel, not spiritual. Horses, feed, saddles. Say, how are you at drawing arrows?”

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said. “I can draw you the beasts of legend, and you want me to draw you arrows?”

“Yes. As many as you can bring yourself to create, really; everyone’s always short on arrows. More rice would be good, too –”

“This wasn’t exactly what I was expecting when I volunteered to help,” Nie Huaisang grumbled.

“Are you going to do it for me or not?” Nie Mingjue asked, unimpressed. “You asked me to use you, not to give you an art project.”

His brother heaved a sigh. “Yes, yes, I will. Can you explain to me why this is your choice, at least?”

Nie Mingjue ruffled his brother’s hair. “Huaisang, when you draw something, it comes to life. Fully to life, as a separate and independent creature of its own – if you draw a dragon, who’s to say that the dragon will choose to fight the Wen sect, instead of turning on us? It wouldn’t be much help if we had to run out, sabers drawn, to deal with whatever it was, only to be exhausted before the Wen sect even arrived.”

“…oh.”

“When we’ve made some progress in the field, I promise to let you help build fortifications,” Nie Mingjue said. “You can start thinking of really nasty traps –”

“Da-ge?”

“Yes?”

“…is that why you hate the idea of me drawing Taotie so much?”

Nie Mingjue coughed.

“Da-ge!”

“Don’t worry about it. It was always really good saber practice…”

“And if anyone tries anything against you at the camp, you draw something really mean, okay?” Nie Mingjue said, pressing paper and a brush into his brother’s hand in addition to the ones he’d hidden away in his luggage - there was a chance that might be confiscated upon his arrival. “I don’t care what it is.”

“I know, I know –”

“Promise me!”

“I will!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “I promise already!”

“Not just if they’re aggressive. Even if things just look suspicious –”

“Suspicious? Like what?”

“If they take you somewhere secluded,” Nie Mingjue said, face drawn with worry. “Somewhere where it’d take us a long time to find your bodies. I don’t care if you put other people in danger from your creation, okay? Don’t make me have to find your corpse.”

Nie Huaisang was silent for a moment. “I understand,” he finally said. “I promise.”

“I’m never drawing anything legendary ever again,” Nie Huaisang sniffed into Nie Mingjue’s collar. “That Xuanwu was awful. It tried to eat all of us!”

“Do you want me to help with the logistics, Sect Leader Nie?” Meng Yao asked.

“You already help with the logistics,” Nie Mingjue said, not really paying attention. If it was serious, Meng Yao would bring it to his attention – he was a truly remarkable aide-de-camp. “You already help with everything.”

“I appreciate Sect Leader Nie’s confidence in me,” Meng Yao said, smiling a little. “But no, I meant – with the imports.”

“Imports?”

“Every week we receive new shipments of goods – food, weapons, defenses – from Qinghe, and we don’t send any money back. Surely such expenditures are putting a strain on the Nie treasury..?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Nie Mingjue said. “Huaisang is handling it. It’s good for him to have responsibility.”

Meng Yao looked a little skeptical, but in his defense, he’d met Nie Huaisang.

“Really,” Nie Mingjue assured him. “He’s not going to hurt our budget – it’ll be fine. They’ve come steadily every week so far, haven’t they?”

“If Sect Leader Nie is content, then so am I,” Meng Yao said, but he was pouting a little, perhaps at the perceived lack of trust. He did so love to be helpful.

“You know I trust you with my life,” Nie Mingjue told him. “But this is something that Huaisang is, for once, best placed to handle. Don’t worry about it.”

It wasn’t really his secret to share, after all. Maybe when the war was done.

Nie Mingjue was on his back in the throne room of the Fire Palace, staring up at the man who murdered his father and who was about to murder him, too, when he heard the sound.

A high-pitched squeal, unlike anything else he’d ever heard – a little like a pig, a little like a wolf, a little like the long slow grate of metal against metal. It burned on the ear, a vile sound on the verge of being physically painful.

“What is that?” Wen Ruohan asked, frowning. He was standing above Nie Mingjue, his foot crushing down on his chest; Baxia was out of reach, knocked away, but at least no longer in the traitor Meng Yao’s hands. “Meng Yao…?”

“I - I’m not sure, Sect Leader Wen,” Meng Yao said, looking equally confused.

Nie Mingjue laughed.

They both looked at him.

He grinned up at them, blood in his teeth.

“What?” he said. “Never heard a Taotie before?”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #my fic #my fics #purple crayon #timetomakeanewwish

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cornacopicimagines · 4 years

Text

A Rose Blooms │t.h

pairing: prince!tom holland x princess!reader

words: 8.4k (WHOOPS)

warnings: arranged marriage, SMUT (we been knew), slight praise kink and 10000% breeding kink, therefore unprotected sex, swearing, slight cockwarming & good lord there is so much

summary: Perhaps God does have a sick sense of humour. To allow such misguided souls to one another. Souls that shouldn't be allowed to feel the sense of happiness he can provide, that should accept their dire situations. The Prince of Wales and his new bride can attest to the quite well.

a/n: what do y'all mean a historical prince au!tom holland with major smut and breeding kink is not a thing. i know the sluts want it, even if they never ask for it. i must provide it.

masterlist

━━★✼☆｡

y/n of Burgundy was a splendid piece of artwork. A sweet and humble French Princess with a huge dowry and a bright future. It was as if DaVinci had casted the girl from Venus's shadow and gifted the baby to displeased parents. Parents who so wished for a boy, that the arrival of a healthy girl is so overlooked that the girl is better off dead. The sadness is heard across not only France but the entirety of Europe. Poor y/n of Burgundy! The Unlucky Princess of Burgundy! It's all she hears; she is deemed a tragedy before her life is even written. Perhaps that is her greatest misdeed in this life, that because she is born the wrong sex to what is expected she is casted to the side as a woman destined for slight and anguish for her entire life. Even if this is the case, y/n wished to think of herself as unwritten for the moment being. A woman waiting for a calling no matter how big or small. A woman who's only current wish to sit atop this windowsill, letting the cool September French breeze kiss her flushed cheeks. Alas, even this is stripped from her.

"Get off the window, y/n!" her mother's shrill voice shrieks as The Duchess yanks y/n to the floor. It's harsh and frantic, as if an arrow is to fly through and hit her. Her tightly coiled chest hit's the wooden floor hard. It knocks the only wind y/n really has left, a wasteful shame.

"I am sorry mama," y/n responds quietly, her hands desperately pat to find a piece of wood that will not cut up into her as she attempts to regain her balance. Though her room is filled with four maids not a single one offers their own hand to help her. She knows it is because of her mother's cowl. If they dare so move in a direction towards her, The Duchess will become a Fury of Hell himself.

"The breeze is so sweet at this time of afternoon." Finally, y/n does place her feet back on the floor with a small clack of her heels. She takes a moment to take in the state of her gown. While she has countless others, something about the pure white of the satin being destroyed by the inevitable dust that has collected is disheartening even to her. The pattern of bright red roses now looks more of a dull blood grey than a true flower.

"The breeze is something so frivolous my dear," The Duchess is suddenly content with her surroundings. "Busy yourself with something more intelligent, it makes for a much better bride."

"Thank you for the wise advice mother," y/n snaps, her fingers gripping the ruined material of her gown. "I'll be sure to not engage myself in something that gives me the slightest bit of freedom in the lifeless castle," it was no louder than a whisper. Her braided hair still muffling the sounds.

As if her words seemed to not even reach her, The Duchess mumbles in agreement before taking her leave. The door shutting loudly behind her, the air was finally safe to breathe. The maids immediately begin to swarm her. Like flies to honey; they grapple her, prod at her and pinch her. It was too much. It was as if a million ants had swarmed her body, nipping at any piece of flesh they could just because it was what they were meant to do. An instinctive need to draw more blood than necessary, it was overwhelming. They inspected her perfectly capable hands, wondering if their incompetence has cost them their heads because y/n of Brittany split her blood and The Duchess refused to let them help. She was suffocating.

She didn't mean for it to slip, it just did. Her voice raised, "Get out." It was softer at first. "Get out," they still didn't move, still abusing her. "I said get out!" Everything stopped for a moment, the air her mother had ensued had now come back. The maids all took a single step away from her. y/n felt the tears threaten her, warning by dancing across her lower lashes. "Do none of you listen, get out for Christ’s sake!" That's all it took, in a matter of seconds y/n was finally alone. She could hear the faint song of the trees whispering to her, it was calm, but she couldn't appreciate it. She dropped to her knees and began to softly weep into her palms. The groans muffled by the skin of her hands and the tears halted from falling by her fingers. In this moment and forever ahead of her, she was desolate.

But like all things, even this bleak minute of sorrow was cut to an end by the deafening sound of her father's boots storming down the hallways towards her room.

━━★✼☆｡

Tom spectated as the pole shattered into a thousand pieces. The splinters hitting ever edge of the arena. He watched as the knight fell limp and as his horse rode on through the chaos. The young prince roared out of his seat, his knees hitting the harsh wood of the royal box. His name echoed on the young knight's medallion above his breast. He had picked the winning side and rightfully so, Sir Harrison had never been defeated. For a moment, Tom turned around to face his beaming mother. A woman who loved the games, Tom always relied on his mother to accompany him to these festivities but his father. The Prince would always ask graciously but was refused every time. Constantly belittled for the consul of old men with a working cock between them, it was a joke. The King had many failed efforts to rile the English people to cause, Tom had offered a large gathering to help inspire the people. The King told his son this would cause nothing but useless panic and many painful deaths. Scoffing, Tom waltzed back to his seat. It was uncomfortable, it felt as if ants hand made their nets below the seat's support. He wished to ride alongside them.

"You cannot and you will not," The Queen smiled at him, waving to squires as they led the horses away. Tom's head swivelled around to meet his mother's. "I refuse it my son."

"I had said nothing mother," Tom replied quietly, he too doing his duty to the lower noble men who had come out today. Each one sweatier than the last. "Perhaps you are hearing things, 10 childbirths can change a woman's mind," Tom stifled a laugh, too which he received a slap on the arm for.

"Don't play smart with me son," The Queen spoke coolly, her countless rings clanged as she rose from her seat. Tom followed suit, allowing a hand for his now middle-aged mother for gracious help down the impossibly large stairs. "I almost lost your father to one of these silly little cock shows, I will not go through it with you my boy."

Tom raised an eyebrow, watching his mother's golden trim become bleaker by the stain of the grass. "I had half a mind to believe you enjoyed these silly little cock shows," Tom played. The Queen peered up at his through hooded lids. It was dangerous waters even for him, a man who has seen the blood of war. He allowed his mother and her ladies to return to Windsor, watching as if to wait for the shark to disappear.

"Your Royal Highness, if I may have a word," a soft voice called out from below the podium. Tom paced to the edge and stared down. Constance, he thought to himself as he smiled wickedly. She was a short and mildly plump woman, with wild unruly hair that had to be constantly shoved out of her face. He remembers her name because of how sweet his name sounded dripping from her tongue. Countless nights spent in the throes of passion, wearing moonlight as cloth. Tom knew he had dishonoured her just by bedding her, but he couldn't help himself. She was the first woman who really took an interest in him. Still, he had to come to her aid on multiple occasions. While he likes the way, she grips at his biceps, he however, doesn't like when her father comes storming into court demanding his daughter's honour back because Tom had prayed on her. Perhaps, it was the odd lack of ladies that would flock to his side or maybe it was simply because he wanted a little bit of fun before the inevitable.

"You may, my Lady," Tom smiled widely making his way to her side. He could tell the mud was ruining the polished leather of his boots, he completely forgot about his favourite riding boots he had put on in hopes that he may indulge himself in the sports. Still, he pushed the though deep down at met her eyes. He not an unusually tall man but the way he almost dwarfed her was delectable. As he watched her squirm, he wondered as to why she would speak with him where anyone could see. There was no danger for him, but the world's eyes were on her.

She played with the small ring on her pinkie finger, riding it up and down the skin. "Why did you not tell me," she whispered, refusing to look up at him. Tears began to well.

"What on earth do you mean?" He queered, genuinely curious as to what had got her all worked up. His hands went to stroke her cheek gently, but she abruptly pulled away from him. This time her eyes did meet his, the salty liquid glossed over her eyes.

"It is bad enough that I am called the Prince's Whore but now they are cursing my name because I have ruined the royal couple!" she cried out, her deep green dress swallowing the mud below. "That a stupid maid slut has stolen you away from the beautiful French Princess!"

Tom saw nothing but red. Not because of Constance but because of what she said to him. He had begged his parents to let him choose his own wife. If he was to rule England after his father's passing, he wished to at least have a woman whom he truly loved by his side. He said nothing to her as he stormed away. The small drizzle of rain hitting his skin as he picked up his speed. He knew that his father was in a council meeting alongside his mother. Perfect opportunity to unleash his rage. He faintly heard her calling after him, that was muffled by the buzzing in his ears.

He had been told who he was meant to be and what he was meant to be from the moment he was born. Hardly ever seeing his mother or younger brothers because he was eldest, never knowing true companionship because he would be constantly cooped up listening to his advisors and tutors as they taught him the art of war and foreign policies. This was his one chance to spend his life with a woman who understood him and would grow a loving family much in contrast to what he had.

His hands pushed the heavy wooden doors, they hit the walls with a large smack. The entire council stood for the Prince, with the exception of his mother and sickly father. He walked past them with ease and took his seat at the opposite end of table. His eyes focused solely on his father as he absently noted the appearance of his son.

"Wonderful of you to finally join us," The Duke of Essex smiled weakly, in any attempt to deflect the tension elsewhere.

"When were you going to tell me?" Tom spoke, his voice barely above a whisper and laced with venom. His elbows digging into the cool wood of granite of the table. He watched his father finally face him; the man was a wreck. His greying hair stuck to his hair with copious amounts of sweat, his brown eyes had sunk deadly back into the sockets and his skin was pale and filled with wrinkles. "When were you going to tell me father?"

"You were spending too much time with that scullery maid," The King respond calmly, still flipping through royal documents. Tom was on the verge of an explosion. If the Prince was known for something, it was his anger. Much like Mount Vesuvius, he didn't get angry often, he hated how it affect those around him. The times he is pushed to the breaking point however, he was destroy everything in his path. "We had to put an end to it."

"We?" Tom pushed.

"Your mother made the arrangements; she is being brought here as we speak." Once more, the King had no interest with the devastated look on the Prince's face. Too caught up in an attempt to stile a cough.

"You promised me my own choice of bride," Tom seethed. He faced his mother, if the King wouldn't listen perhaps the Queen would.

His mother sighed; the silk of her sleeves draped over the arms of the chair. "That was before you had instinctively made the choice, we hoped that perhaps you would have fallen for the daughter of a Duke or at worst an Earl. You were going to marry that girl, after everything her family has done against the court. We couldn't allow it."

Tom jaw clicked. "Who is she?" He was done arguing, done protesting.

"You'll marry the granddaughter of the French King; y/n of Burgundy," his father spoke up before his mother could sugar coat it. "The family sent a portrait of the girl as the first payment of her dowry; it has already been placed in your room. Hopefully, you can find the slightest bit of attraction for your new bride before the wedding."

"Will I get to meet her beforehand?" He at least hoped to see the girl with his own eyes before calling her his wife. Finally, the King met his eyes. He dropped the quill on the desk as locked his eyes, leaning towards him.

"Did you really think you'd get that luxury?"

━━★✼☆｡

The sea breeze prickled at y/n skin as she sat atop the deck. She could tell they were getting closer. The wind went from a soft tone to a howling scream, something her great aunt had told her all about. English weather could go from a perfect sunny day to god's worst mood. In all honesty, she preferred it to French. It was wild and unpredictable, something she so desperately needed.

She remembered how she got into this predicament as she lay down a 9 ace on the table. Waiting for the ship to land.

"You'll leave tomorrow, it will take you a good couple of days to get there." Her father exclaimed, picking a raspberry from the plate and eating the sweet fruit. y/n stood in silence, still reeling her tears back into her eyes. She refused to weep in front of the Duke. She moved around the large room, in order to hear his words. "You'll make a fine queen," he smiled, placing his hands atop her cheeks. y/n smiled warmly before raising a concern.

"How do you know this will be different than the last?" she asked quietly, staring down at her shoes. Her father sighs before picked his coat up from the chair.

y/n placed her bets, her hand is exquisite. Three queen and a pair of Kings. If she doesn't win, it's as if God is going against her. The men that sit beside her raise their brows in confusion. She's not backing down.

"Because, you know their language and their culture from Great Aunt Mary. You were her favourite after all," her father tells her, the memory of the old lady teaching her English brings a curve to her lips. That was not the answer she was looking for, however. Her father knows it as well, he knows the answer she wants but he cannot give it to her. "Trust me pumpkin," the endearment is wonderful. Unlike her mother, y/n's father has always been kind to her. She doesn't know if it because she is his eldest daughter or because her brother is a lousy boy and she is the only child with a head still attached to her shoulder blades.

She releases her tension; she knows whatever comes out of this she must go along with it. She must accept whatever situation is handed to her and accept her duty as a future queen and mother to the English Throne.

y/n squeals, her hand's won. The rest of the chips are placed in her corner, she is asking if they want to go another round but instead, they all huff and walk away from her. y/n feels her heart sink into her stomach. Perhaps the English wind has turned their moods sour. Soon enough her worries are washed away as the boat docks into Brighton and y/n hears the cheers for her. She can't exactly make out what they are saying. Sadly, she doesn't get a chance to even greet her new subjects as her new English ladies are gently pushing her towards the carriage. The only thing she can do is wave and smile at them, hoping to instil a fraction of hope for the new royal couple. As she steps into the carriage, a huge white dress follows her. The abundance of ladies and herself are stuck in the cramped space for a little over an hour before they start agreeing to change her dress into the one being coddled.

"Why? This is dress is perfect as it is," y/n laughed gently, her fingers playing with the pearls that lace the neckline.

"Forgive me, my lady, but His Majesty; The King has requested that you wear a white gown." One of the younger girls pipes up. Sighing, y/n nods her head to agree and goes to stop the carriage.

While they don't completely undress her, she knows that the smock under her dress is shear and leave nothing to the imagination. Quickly they strip her of the current dress, even unlacing the corset before adding another one. As they place the soft silk of her veil over her head, she can hear the ringing bells at Westminster. It hasn't completely dawned on her what she is exactly going through. Marrying a man she has never met. Marrying a man for all she knows could be a tyrant. She's heard quite a few English Monarchs fall under that said category. Her heart started to jump now; she could fell the beat thump against her vocal box.

The people began to line the city. Countless bodies waved at her as she strolled through the city of London. The abbey somehow seemed ten times bigger in person. White rose petals fell through the air as the coachman opened the door for her. The walkway was paved with red velvet. Her heels felt as though she was ruining the beautiful material as she walked.

Tom can physically hear her pounding heartbeat from where he stands. He can't exactly make out her face, but he can see the white gown strutting towards him. It's the same patterns as the dress his mother wore more than 20 years ago. He's seen it in countless paintings, his mother scowling as she attempts to salvage any positive thing out of such tremendous pain. Harrison lays a hand on his shoulder; the contact makes him jump.

"I heard she looks like a siren," he joked, dusting a small particle of fluff off Tom's shoulder. "Perhaps she'll sound like one too," the comment was enough to grant the knight a hard whack on his arm from the Prince. He truly did wonder if she would as beautiful as the painting which depicted her. A small red rose for his house in her fingertips as she grinned softly. It was as if she was staring into his soul.

Tom reached out to allow her aid in getting up the stairs. She graciously accepted muttering a small thank you as her other hand lifted the countless layers of fabric to mend her steps. Her touch was soft, something he wasn't used to. The gentle touch of a noble woman, even if it was only upon his fingers. The entirety of Westminster Abbey went silent as the faced each other.

y/n could barely hear anything over her rampant anxiety. Though she was eased slightly as she blindly grasped at his fingers, she was afraid she gripped a little too tightly. Finally, she stood in front of him. The gown dipping down the stairs to end in her ladies' hands. She wondered what she looked like to him. Wondering if it was a glorious sight to witness a new bride waltzing towards him. Or if it was one of dread, to be in holy matrimony with someone you've just met for the first time. She's still trying to decide between the two.

The ceremony was beautiful. A simply yet elegant affair, as two young royals wed. She knows that she is marrying the Prince of Wales, a worthy husband for any noble woman. Yet she can't help the dread that builds as the Archbishop drones on. The hymns falling deaf ears. She tries to pay attention, but she can’t, all she can hear is the drumming of her heartbeat. It pounds against her ribs, creating echoes in her head. Before she knows it, his hands reach for hers. There was no strength in his grip unlike beforehand, it was soft and gentle. As if she was a beautiful yet delicate doll, that she would completely shatter if he pressed just that bit too hard. Their fingertips locked; her skin fell into the ridges of his knuckles.

“I proclaim thee, y/n of Burgundy to be my lawfully wedded wife from now until the end of my days,” he hesitated. She could hear it in his voice. “She shall sit beside me as I rule the kingdom.” The ring passes down her skin, the metal biting at her finger.

She repeats him. “I proclaim thee, Thomas – Prince of Wales to be my lawfully wedded husband from now until the end of my days. I shall sit beside him as he rules this beautiful country.” She smiles at the end, though she never intends to. y/n thanks her ladies that they cover her grinning face behind the thick white lace of her veil.

The entirety of Westminster Abbey is silent, no one dares even breathe as Prince Thomas coils his fingers around the tipping of the lace. He lifts it over his now wife’s face. He taken aback slightly. The painter wasn’t paid enough, clearly. She was even more beautiful standing in front of him. The same clear complexion now glistening in the soft sunlight of England. He doesn’t pry of course; it would be rude of him. Just to stare at his bride, as if they were the only people in the hall. Good lord, does he wish it was.

His hands reach her cheeks. Tender once more, he brings her forward. She shifts on her feet as they meet. A quaint and soft kiss, unlike anything either of them has felt ever. He can’t remember the last time, it was this – well, gentle. Thomas doubts he has ever kissed a woman of such luxury in his entire life up to this point. y/n is the first to pull away, her fingers resting lightly on his raised wrists. Their eyes meet for a moment, a short moment.

Westminster Abbey erupts into celebration. Red rose petals fall from the ceiling and music begins to flood the area.

As she stared around, y/n began to think to herself. I do not know what will come out of this, but I already can see that joy my presence brings to these people. I shall not let them down.

Prince Thomas of England, Heir to The English Throne and y/n of Burgundy, Granddaughter of The French King had been wed. They were now locked in holy matrimony, a feeling unlike any other. Both horrendous and hospitable.

━━★✼☆｡

The Hall is a grand party. Laughing and singing is heard from every corner, mugs of beer and wine are flung across tables and scraps of food are being thrown to the dogs. y/n has never seen such a scene unfold. Too contained by the prudish French court. The most scandalous thing she has seen is a risqué dance meant to be for a married lover.

That is what she always despised about the French Nobility. Their secrets. Whispers and Rumours spread faster than fire. If you had committed some heinous act, the entirety of France will hear about it by the end of the week. Perhaps that is another reason why she felt so trapped in Burgundy. y/n could never do a single task on her own before her ladies’ loose tongue would find their way back to her mother. A delicate little flower, such a waste of potential.

Tom noticed her prodding, her fork twirling the few peas left on her plate. He hadn’t said a word to her all night and yet he looks at her if she’s unwillingly to speak. Does she know any basic English? Perhaps not.

“How are you liking the food,” Tom asked her, leaning into her. She smiled up at him, he spoke to her in French. It made her heart swell for a second. y/n turns to face him, smiling warmly. Tom wishes he could keep that smile forever.

“It’s is very well Your Grace,” y/n replies to him. Her flawless English rolling off her tongue with a petite French accent. It’s like heaven to his ears and he’s taken aback. “My Great Aunt was an English Countess, I loved her very much. I was fluent in English before I was 8.” She explained, almost as if she had read his mind.

“You need not call me Your Grace,” he teased, it was somewhat natural for him.

“Then what shall I call you?” y/n queered.

“I am your husband now, whatever pleases you pleases me,” Tom replied, turning back to his empty plate in an effort to hide the rising red flush on his face. y/n knew she should leave it at that, so she turned her attention elsewhere.

“Are royal weddings usually this,” she paused, “loud?”

Tom laughed quietly, he too turned to face the ruckus crowd. Men laying in the laps of maids, dogs feasting over food that had been flung across the floor. Loud chants to the beat of the music filled the hall. He would have been completely embarrassed by the state of his people in front of his new bride, if he hadn’t seen the amused look on her face. “Not usually, I have only been to one other wedding and that was extremely sombre.”

“How so?” she asked, sipping from the freshly poured wine.

“I went to my uncle’s wedding a few months ago. He had also married a noble woman like yourself, but the poor thing was only 11. My uncle was 35 and counting.” He wishes it was different but like all things in this world, he is powerless to the wills of those who think they are higher than others.

He peered at her; y/n was already looking at him. An eyebrow and a lip raised in disgust. It was quaint.

“I wish I could be more repulsed by that,” Tom wondered if she was joking or if she was serious. He couldn’t tell just by the use of her tone. He did however note her wit. Something he so longed for. They talked for hours, sitting by one another and discussing anything that arrived at the conversation. Tom can’t decide whether it’s her honey-like voice or her banter but it’s making him feel things no one should for someone they are being forced to wed.

Just while they are comparing the contrasting jousting techniques, the joyful music suddenly stops. It’s a quick snap and the entire hall is now dead quiet. The Earl of Salisbury mounts himself on one of the tables. His cheeks red with drunkenness.

The Earl points directly at y/n and Tom as they sit in confusion. “The final tradition, an honour for any noble man. The Great Bedding!”

y/n turns to Tom, clinging slightly to his sleeve. He takes immediate notice. “Thomas, what is The Great Bedding?” There was great concern in her voice as she watched all of the men rush towards them. He didn’t get to answer as the women abruptly hauled him out of his seat and down the hall, away from her.

y/n didn’t fear too well either. At least a dozen grimy hands placed themselves all over her body, pulling harshly as they brought her into the air. Dancing her down the halls. She constantly whacked their hands, to no avail of course. They only dropped her once they got to a dimly lit room.

It was already buzzing with people. Hustling around a single bed, covered by finely woven silk. The men dropped her gently, placing her feet against the ground. y/n tried to turn around to give them a piece of her mind but was stopped as her corset began to become loose around her waist. Incredibly uncomfortable, y/n looked up to distract herself in any regard and found Tom at the other side. The maid’s hands undoing every buckle of his coat, tiny fingers unthreading the lavish ropes across his body. y/n blushed at the sight.

Tom was trying his hardest not to look at her, not to stare as countless men of the court undressing her. He could hear the bulky wedding dress hit the floor of the room, he could feel her eyes on him, and he could see the variety of unknown nobles swarming them in any hopes to achieve the right to gossip tomorrow morning. It was despicable.

He climbed in first, the cotton of the blankets itching his skin as he settled. The only comfort he found was in the softness in his unkempt hair. Not restricted by the gel he was forced to wear.

y/n slowly followed his lead, it was dead silent. No one dared breathed as the new Princess of Wales found her spot next to The Prince. All the while, the exact same priest Archbishop chanted away, and priests flung holy water at the bed. Some of the liquid found itself on her skin. Finally, the crowd bowed to the couple and began to take their leave.

Tom watched in peace; he would be alone. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh, perhaps he would be able to get some well needed sleep. That seemed achievable until he felt a cold grasp around his wrist. His eyes shot open to find his father’s glare directly at him. “Don’t let the spring pass, I hope to see a grandson in the next few months,” The King spat.

It had been hours since the quarry of guests had left the room but the the monarch’s words etched themselves into his mind. Echoing nonstop, getting wilder as Tom felt y/n settle herself next to him. The mere presence of her alongside the duty he had to fulfil was too much for him. Tom shot up and quickly gathered his things, hauling his boots and clothes. He couldn’t be near her for another moment, too afraid of what he might do if she was subject to this sort of cruel punishment. Tom quickly decided he was sleep next door, just far away to have the thoughts no longer plague his mind but not too far that he would impose the wrong meaning on her. He reached for the door when she chimed in.

“Where are you going?”

He halted instantly. He wished that they could have gotten along like most royal couples should. A cold and initially distant meeting, then hopefully something would blossom over the years. Instead they had gotten along quite well, too well in fact. He was used to going slowly, taking his time in bedding a girl. A constant glaze over the court every few days, then promiscuous banter and in the span of months he would have her melt in his hand with a simple word. Now, he was feeling flustered and out of control and all of it was happening over a single night. Tom pressed his forehead against the wood, taking a deep breath. He turned to look at her, just like a painting coming to life. Her hair was down, unlike anything he had ever seen. Not grimed with sweat and dirt nor was it pinned underneath a headdress or away from her face. This time, the soft curls framed it. The nightgown clung to her shoulders; the fabric dangerously close to falling off. It made his life that much more difficult.

“I am sorry. You are a beautiful woman, but I just cannot fulfil the expectations that are placed upon me tonight. I will be sleeping in the room next door if you need me,” Tom blurted out. He waited for a response before he could speed out. She sat there, like a perfectly sculpted statue. It was torture.

y/n sighed, “nothing has to happen tonight.”

“But they will ask, they will pry like they always will,” he countered.

“Who says we have to tell the truth?” y/n giggled. God, it was a symphony to him. Tom watched her leave the bed, waltzing around to meet with him at the door. He wanted the tell her to stay exactly where she is, not to move even an inch closer but with ever step she took, his breath hitched higher in his throat. “I would prefer to spend the first night of my marriage with my husband, whether something happens or not.”

He swallowed thickly, “you are incredibly calm.” He now met her, his full attention on y/n as she chuckled in delight.

“I am filled to the brim with anxiety, just not that same fear that you are feeling,” she told him as she sat down the small longue in the middle of the room. She took the wine from the table and poured each of them a glass. Tom was hesitant at first, still wishing to flee the room and into the safety of his own solitary. Still, he found himself pacing towards her. Taking soft and flinching steps until he sat beside her.

“Then what is the fear?” He took the other glass, quickly chugging the alcohol. y/n said nothing but just stared at him in confusion. “The fear you feel, why?”

It was now her turn to become flustered. He looked genuinely curious as to why she was feeling doubtful, but she was unsure if he truly wanted to know the answer. Her father made her promise never to speak of it to anyone, a shameful secret that would ruin her future if it was released. But Tom was now her husband. They were bonded by law, a thought she really didn’t wish to dwell on. Surely, whatever she told him wouldn’t cause them any stress? Still, it would be rude of her not to tell him the reason after he had just clearly demonstrated his own fears in the commitment. “You must promise not to become angry.”

Tom nodded his head gently, even more intrigued then he was before.

y/n quietly exhaled, avoiding looking at Tom. “I was married once before, he passed from the sickness 3 months into our matrimony. Perhaps it was God way of guiding me to a better future, but it ruined almost everything. His death caused create strain for my family as they attempt to rebuild myself as if I was not capable of it myself. I am terrified that I am cursed, that I shall find myself falling in love with you only to be weeping over your coffin months later.” She had poured her soul out, shared such a personal section of her life. She was ashamed to see his face. Too afraid that pure anger and disgust would paint his face.

“Who was he? The man whom you had married?” Tom asked her again. His voice calling out as she stared directly at the purple velvet beneath her dress.

“The Prince of Spain,” y/n squeaked.

“That inbred!” Tom joked, suddenly becoming relaxed by the mere mention of the Spanish Royal Family. “I am surprised you got three months and not three days, that kid was on death doors for his entire life,” Tom was now in a fit of laughter. It wasn’t directed to her but more that they allowed such a beautiful woman to be the wife of such a dull man. y/n peered up, thoroughly embarrassed as she gave him a light whack. Tom finally came down from his laughing fit, staring directly at her. “You are cursed Princess; you are just coddled. Forced into a life clearly not meant for someone like yourself.”

The mere mention of the cradling of her life got y/n riled up, “that’s another thing! The Spanish constantly treated me as if I was some porcelain doll ready to shatter if they dared even look at me! I felt like a child trapped in a woman’s body and he touched me like that as well. God, I was finally ready to truly live my life and then he just was too soft, I wanted something much mor-” Oh. Oh God. She had run her mouth too far, dug her own grave with her rambling. Her hands clamped against her mouth as a heat rushed to her face. She could see the French ships arriving for her next month, giving her passage because she was not in pristine condition. Hopefully Tom didn’t pick up on what she was inferring.

“You aren’t a virgin?” his voice was quiet, almost dark. She felt her entire world shatter. Tom scooted towards her slowly, it was completely unnoticed. She was too deep in panic to recognise the growing flirt rising in the Prince of Wales. y/n shook her head feverously. “That little tick took you?” When he put it like that, it made her stomach tingle. She had never heard such a sentence used in that tone. She was drowning in thoughts.

“I didn’t know what I was doing, that’s why I was so unsatisfied,” she tried to explain, her hands now bunched up the fabric against her knees. “He was just so soft, too soft and I wished he would have-”

“Would have what?” he toyed. Tom doesn’t quite know why he was acting like this. So intent on prying her little secrets out of her. Usually, he would have just simply got straight to the point but now, seeing her become red with frustration was a view causing him great pleasure. Any abstinence he hoped to place upon himself earlier in the night had been thrown out the window. He finally felt back in control, something he longed for. Something she was serving to him on a silver platter.

“I..” she began but the words got caught in her throat. Her tongue stopped completely, almost refusing to finish the damning sentence. She wanted him to be rougher with her, she wanted him to treat her like a woman and not a girl. “What happen to you wishing to keep your hands to yourself?” She attempted to change the topic, trying to flee but to no avail as he quickly caught her wrist in his palms. Their skins igniting on sight.

“Don’t try to change the subject Princess,” he purred, standing up to meet with her at the side of the bed. Her title now held a completely different meaning, it wasn’t being used to describe her. It was being used to utterly destroy her; a nickname only meant to be whispered in the dim light of a dozen candles. “I can see right through you,” Tom’s calloused fingers met the loose fabric on her shoulders, dancing over her collarbone. It was soft but held meaning. “I can see that you wished he touched you differently. Touched you like a real woman, rougher and passionate.”

His words were damned. She should feel ashamed that she was feeling light-headed just by the grazing touch of his fingers above her perked breasts. “Yes,” it was the only thing she could get out. The only single three lettered word that allowed itself out of her mouth. Tom pressed his lips to her neck, underneath her jaw.

“Perhaps, he too was inexperienced.” He spoke through small pecks. “Allow me to show you something different, something better,” it was barely above a whisper, but y/n heard every word. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair as he peered at her.

“I would enjoy that very much,” y/n responded just as quiet, all the gentle touches he currently had placed upon her turned darker. He pulled her into his embrace quickly before tripping her feet from under her and ending atop her on the messily made bed. His hand instantly found the inside of her thigh, his finger bruising her skin. It was delightfully, the slight pain sending shivers down her spine.

Their lips met, gentle at first. Her hands moulding themselves against his jaw, moaning into his mouth as he pushed her deeper into the mattress. She wished she could stay like this forever, wrapping in Tom’s embrace as they mended together. Alas, he pulled away from her. Lips separating with a small pop and a soft whine from y/n underneath him. Tom took a distinct look at her; she was sprawled out and whimpering for something more. Did she give this look to him as well? Did she use the melody that was her voice to beg him to do anything? Tom didn’t particularly wish to replay the thought in his head but yet, he couldn’t help himself.

Her nightgown quickly found itself discarded; her nipples perked in the cold. His lips immediately latched on, massaging the soft tissue. He never knew something could feel this smooth, without any flaws or imperfections. Even though he knew he could spend an entire night between the valley of her tits, he too longed for something more.

In a matter of moments, he found himself staring directly at her sex. A glorious sight to behold, glistening with her arousal in the pale moonlight. She was practically dripping onto the sheets below her. He placed a soft kiss to her pelvis, she jumped at the contact. “If you feel uncomfortable, you need to tell me,” he told her all the while his fingers toyed at her hot hole. Dipping even so slightly into her heat. She was already in euphoria just from the slightest bit of pleasure. y/n nodded her head before locking eyes with him.

He didn’t waste another second, quickly licking a fat stripe through her folds. The taste was pure heaven, he didn’t give her a moment to register the feeling before diving right back into her juices. Sucking and pulling at her, wasting the night away feeling her thighs clamp around his head every time he flicked her clit coupled with a singular finger prancing in and out of her.

y/n wasn’t quite sure how loud she could truly be. She knew that even though they were in the far south-east of the castle, there could be a dozen scullery maids listening right outside the door. Or if someone was trying to achieve some sleep right beside them. At this very moment though, with Tom’s head in between her thighs devouring every inch of her throbbing cunt, she couldn’t give a single fuck. y/n allowed the string of curses and praised to tumble from her lips as she clasped onto the bed sheets for dear life.

“Such a dirty mouth,” Tom remarked, releasing her for a few seconds, “for such a pretty and delicious pussy.” He chuckled darkly. y/n wanted to bite back at him, but she was cut short but the addition of another of his digits sliding into her tight entrance. y/n clasped down hard on her hand. A foreign feeling began to drive itself into her stomach. While unusual, it was not at all exotic to her. It was thrilling, feeling her walls contract around his fingers as y/n began to instinctively rock her hips against his digits.

“God,” he purred, “that’s it, make yourself cum on my fingers Princess. Let me see that gorgeous face while you do it.” Tom had now retracted his mouth from her, completely mesmerised by the way her eyes screwed shut as she reached her peak. A cacophony of beautiful and dazzling sounds stumbling out of her mouth as he felt her climax all over his hand. Such a tantalising sight for any man.

y/n was too deep in her own return that she didn’t notice the retraction of his presences from the middle of her legs. So, when he felt his hands roughly pull her to the edge of the bed, she almost choked. The exhilarating feeling of his strained cock rubbing against her drenched folds made her forget her place. Made her speak before her mind could catch up. “I want you to fulfil the expectation.” She told him, her eyes never wavering from him.

Tom halted all his movements. It was painful but he needed absolute clarity before he did anything without her reassurance. “You need to elaborate Princess,” he told her darkly. He knew exactly what she was asking of him, he knew exactly what she desired.

“I want you to come inside of me,” she spoke as if she was a different person. y/n doesn’t quite know whether it’s the shift of mood or her own personal feelings but either way, she wanted to feel their juices mix and then leak out of her. Wanted him to fill her right up to the brim until the possibility was certain.

“You want me to fuck my seed right into you?” his words were dirtier than she expected but so was he as he slid in and into her. His naval hitting hers with a loud smack. He refused to move until he had played with her just that tad bit more. y/n’s head thrashed into the sheets behind her. She was so full, never has she felt this complete in her entire life. He wasn’t even moving but she could feel every inch of him deep inside of her.

“God yes,” she whimpered. “I need it so bad,” she was going to drive Tom insane. Just by a simple sentence, he was going to lose his mind and cum right now without even doing anything.

“Want to carry my child, our own Prince or Princess,” he pulled back out of her and slammed right back in, knocking the wind out of her y/n. It was so profoundly dirty, just discussing it. It thrilled her to the very core, child-bearing was meant for women not girls. Perhaps that is why she is so drawn to the talk, the talk of something so primally feminine set her entire body on fire. She couldn’t speak a coherent sentence instead she just let out a continuous plea.

He began slow, hips rocking to find that perfect beat. He revelled in the only sounds in the room, the sound of his cock hitting the divine spot inside of her over and over again and her delirious moaning. It was a symphony he was lucky enough to hear. He wanted to hear more, listen to the pure sounds of him railing into her. So, he picked up the pace. His thrust became not only deep and harsh but fast.

God, if he could immortalise this feeling he would. The feeling of her walls constricting around him as he pounds right into her, the feeling of her legs wrapping around his constantly thrusting hips and the feeling of her sweating skin underneath his fingers as he grips for support. It’s like the Lord himself made her tight little cunt just for him.

“You’re so big,” y/n praised mindlessly. He’s never had someone say that to him without it sounding forced. It’s so raw that he can’t help but go even harder into with each praise that falls off her lips. “Fill me up, I want to feel you all inside of me.” It’s a dangerous game, she’s tapped on something so feral inside of him it hurts.

y/n wants to prop herself up and explore his body while he pounds into her, but she simply can’t. Her limbs give out with every thrust. Her entire body spasms each time he hits the perfect spot inside of her. She a moaning mess, trying to maintain any sense of normality but failing miserably. It’s a constant state of pleasure, she’s afraid that she’s lost track of time. That is until the faint, but all the desirable fit finds itself lit in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m almost there,” she whispers, it’s the only thing she can get out. His thrusts, that once had gained a steady and harsh rhythm are now falling. He’s losing focus with each grip he receives. With her words though, he gives her the final stretch. No longer does he has some form of structure but instead he’s just railing her like a wild animal.

It’s an explosion and neither knows why but it’s addictive. y/n climaxes around him, her toes curling as her final orgasm hits her long and violent. Shaking underneath, him as she unknowingly milks his own finish out of him. Tom’s fucking his cum right into her, he doesn’t stop for a second. Too focused on the goal ahead of him. Placing it where it counts. It’s a feeling he wants to never forget, better yet it’s a sight he wants permanently etched into his memories. As he pulls out of her, their climaxes tumble out of her. Dripping down her leg.

“Hold your legs up Princess,” he teases as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I heard it works wonders.”

The rose blooms only for those who care properly for her.

━━★✼☆｡

a/n: please don’t flop, omg this is so long and no one asked for this shit. please don’t flop chile 🤡

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ohmyasmodeus · 4 years

Text

𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘮 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ❖

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘳 ; 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘵

✧ Sure, Lucifer is looking forward to appreciating art and the history behind each piece, but he finds himself much more excited to spend more time alone with you. History can be preserved, but every moment spent with you is simply irreplaceable; he ends up surprisingly spending more time gazing at you than admiring the artwork.

✧ You make him feel young again. In between displays, he sneaks kisses, mischievously pulling you away from the crowds just to hold you in his arms for a stolen moment. Lucifer adores the way you fall into his arms with soft laughter, and it makes him cradle your face between his gloved hands while he whispers about the way everyone looks at you like you’re a work of art.

“But do you?” You ask softly.

“I always do, ______.” Silhouetted by the gallery lights, he pulls you into a tender kiss full of emotion; a moment that no doubt belongs among the displays of beauty and immortality that surround you.

✧ Lucifer is the kind of person to actually read the little plaques beside the pieces that go into detail about the artist and the intentions behind their art. It takes a while for him to take it all in, but you don’t mind— it’s very cute to see him have to bend down and squint to read them.

✧ Your day hardly ends there. Even as he takes you home, he very much enjoys discussing your opinions on the works included in the gallery and the artists behind them. It’s Lucifer’s way of getting closer, trying to decipher how your mind works, how you view art pieces that are open to multiple interpretations. It’s his favourite part. He loves you and your brilliant mind.

♡ 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯 ; 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 / 𝘢𝘳𝘵

✧ Your demon is the definition of a kinaesthetic learner. Mammon fits right in with the kids that run around the place, tugging on your hand as he begs you to come play these games with him! He never wants to do anything without you and you end up being basically dragged around the museum. But it’s okay because he’s cute!

✧ While surrounded by so many people, it’s even easier for him to get flustered about affection. His cheeks flush red whenever he thinks too hard about holding your hand, whether it’s to bring you somewhere, or just to hold your hand for the sake of it. The back of his fingers brush against yours, making you smile.

“Hm? What do you want to show me?” you ask as you take his hand to intertwine your fingers with his.

Mammon fidgets with his free hand before shoving it into his jacket pocket, looking away with a brilliant blush. His voice is quiet as he mumbles, “N-nothing, I just… wanted to hold your hand. Or whatever.”

✧ He’s much smarter than people like to give him credit for at times, and surprises you with bits of information he picks up that you couldn’t understand. At the same time, it’s hard to stop him from gushing about how cool it was to see that chunk of sodium explode when dropped in water and how he wants to watch that over and over again.

✧ Mammon runs wild in the gift shop, especially at those little archaeology or mining kits that let you dig through hunks of sand that claim to contain a piece of gold. Of course, there are a million things the both of you want to buy for yourselves, but so little money to do so with. He settles for something small in the end, because he wants to be able to buy something small for his brothers too.

♡ 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 ; 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦

✧ From the beginning, Leviathan is absolutely fascinated. The calming atmosphere of the museum and being completely surrounded by his element makes Levi relax, even if he’d normally panic and try to hide from the people that walk along the exhibitions with you. But even then, you make sure to hold his hand just to reassure him a little more.

✧ Just like he rants about pretty much anything he has an interest in, Levi rants about the equipment on display and compares weapons or ships from different eras to each other, as if he’s talking about mere video game stats. It’s actually kind of hot to see him act like the Grand Admiral of hell’s navy is supposed to.

✧ Treat him like a Grand Admiral, actually. His brain totally short circuits when you lean into him and put a hand on his chest and gasp about how knowledgeable and strong he is.

“Oh captain, my captain!” you sing as you pepper his face in kisses, making him squirm in your arms. His face is beet red as he attempts to cover it with his hands.

“People are- they’re going to see us!” Levi whines.

You laugh and kiss him properly, arms wrapped around him tight. “That’s the point, baby! I like it when people know I’m yours.”

✧ He actually gets a little sad when he sees the bones of massive whales or the various preserved remains of sea life on display. They all feel like a part of him. At times, he feels like sea animals understand him much better than people do, and he has to give your hand a squeeze as the two of you through the section. At least he brightens up when you tell him that most of these specimens die a natural death or were cared for during their life.

♡ 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘯 ; 𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺

✧ His choice of museum goes without explanation. Humans are frail creatures that are essentially doomed to make the same mistakes again and again, despite a new era or millennia, but Satan still finds their history remarkable. He’s fascinated with seeing the butterfly effect ripple through time, sparking wars and conflicts. It makes him wonder about the universe’s decisions— especially the ones that brought you to him.

✧ Satan has always been more fond of reading the ancient texts on display or translating archaic inscriptions on bronze age charms, but when he’s with you, he finds himself more drawn to the elegant gowns and elaborately crafted jewellery on display. You always find his emerald eyes lingering on you, imagining what you would look like in something so grand. Your beauty stuns him in every way, especially with the way you smile at him while framed by the display’s lights.

✧ “I thought you wanted to learn,” you mumble with a quiet laugh into the kiss that Satan pulls you into. The two of you are wrapped in each other’s arms in the back of a crowded amphitheatre, making an attempt to watch a historical film.

In the darkness, Satan’s blush goes unseen, but you feel it in the heat of his face as you kiss him back eagerly. “I’ve learned enough about humans, ______. I want to focus on my favourite one now.”

You close your eyes, and so does he. History couldn’t matter less, not when it feels like the two of you are the only beings to exist, the only people that matter.

✧ Despite wanting to learn, Satan finds himself getting dragged into shenanigans with you as you voice historical figures with the goofiest accents and clown around with some of the interactive props. He laughs along and snaps a million pictures of you to keep, and he supposes that humans aren’t the only ones that make recurring mistakes. After all, he lets you loosen him up and lets you force your way into his heart time and time again, but he still can’t force himself to complain about it.

♡ 𝘢𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘶𝘴 ; 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘰𝘯

✧ Beauty in its different forms has always mesmerised Asmodeus. Museums have never been his thing, but with a fashion museum, you might just be able to change his mind. He goes between gushing about the textures and layering of different pieces to gushing about you and how amazing you look today!

✧ Asmo is always on top of the latest trends, but there’s something that always brings him back to the ostentatious allure of baroque and rococo dresses. He loves reading about the rise of these styles, but he would rather pull you along into a waltz as the quiet ambient music plays around you, the both of you giggling and referring to each other as ‘lord’ and ‘lady’.

✧ Or ‘your majesty’ and ‘my consort’...

✧ You, as always, expect him to pull you away somewhere quiet to make out and be general public nuisances, but Asmodeus surprises you this time. He’s far too busy taking pictures of you together and of just you alone, his amber gaze so soft as he contemplates your beauty. He ends up leaning in serenely as the two of you find yourselves alone together in a gallery.

“You’re gorgeous,” Asmo mumbles with a smile, delicately tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “There’s just something so magnetic about you, I can’t look away…”

“I don’t have to say it back because you know you’re handsome and your ego is big enough... but there’s nothing that can compare to how lovely your soul is.” You chuckle softly, resting a hand affectionately on the side of his face. Asmo rests his forehead against yours, wrapping his arms around the back of his neck with a delighted giggle, delighted in knowing that you see him beyond his superficialities and flaws.

✧ He buys you a set of jewellery from the gift shop, and not one of the cheap ones either. He splurges on one of the most expensive professionally made vintage sets because he really wants to daydream about you dancing with him in those rococo dresses, the most gorgeous royal couple in the world…

♡ 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘻𝘦𝘣𝘶𝘣 ; 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘵

✧ Delighted by the more colourful and almost bizarre applications of mixed-media art (think Yayoi Kusama), Beelzebub enjoys contemporary art the most. He’s easily fascinated with the elaborately abstract displays, and quietly wraps his arm around your waist as the two of you gawk at stunning larger-than-life works that probably get him a little hungry.

✧ He’s a respectful visitor and likes to stay silent so he doesn’t disturb the quiet atmosphere for everyone else appreciating the art. It ends up in him having to lean down and murmur softly in your ear when he has something to tell you, his warm arms pulling you into an embrace that you never want to leave.

✧ Workshops! Please bring Beel to the workshops because they’re his favourite part of museums. No matter how hungry he gets while putting in so much effort, he’ll sit still and work hard to make you something you can treasure.

“Do you like it?” he asks with a smile as he presents you with a little figurine version of one of the sculptures featured in the exhibition, hand painted by him. It’s easy to notice how the colours he picked out match your features. “It’s yours.”

“I love it, Beel! Oh, it’s wearing my coat and everything!” you gasp. The elated smile he gives you is absolutely priceless, and you can’t help but tiptoe to kiss him in thanks for his hard work.

Beel lets out a soft laugh and nuzzles his cheek into yours. “I really liked the art, but it felt like something was missing… Maybe the exhibition would’ve been a lot more beautiful if you were an art piece on display too.”

✧ Bringing him to a museum like that just might inspire him to create art by himself. After creating something for you, he feels hooked on it! You find him doodling a lot more on his homework and giving you the most endearing drawings of things you like, or his own hilarious renditions of what Lucifer looks like when he’s about to burst a blood vessel. Beel definitely has a hidden talent for caricatures.

♡ 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘳 ; 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺

✧ Humans? Belphegor has had enough of them for a lifetime and can’t be bothered with learning more about them, but natural history is something that captivates him. There’s a kind of innocent wonder in his eye as you lead him around the exhibitions, marvelling at the displayed remains of the massive creatures that came before, wondering how they evolved into the tiny little animals of today. (But it’s probably also morbid curiosity with the way he looks at preserved carcasses and skeletons.)

✧ But you’re an exception to him. He's tired of humans but never of you, even if he jokes about it at times. Even if he knows about most of the things on display, Belphie is still asking you to tell him about them because he just loves hearing your voice. Coupled with the soothing silence of the museum, it almost puts him to sleep.

✧ “Don’t fall asleep! You paid to watch this!” you whisper when Belphie rests his head on your shoulder. You want to pay attention to the dinosaurs beating the shit out of each other in the surprisingly well-rendered 3D documentary, but you can’t help but gaze at your boyfriend instead, and the way he looks in those dumb 3D glasses.

“I won’t,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes. “You’re warm.”

“You’re a little leech, you know that?” Despite your snarky tone, you lift up the partition between the theatre’s seats to let Belphie snuggle into you. Just like a leech, he’s immediately all over you with his arms wrapped tight around your waist, chuckling as he buries his face in your neck.

✧ You wouldn’t expect it, but he’s also the kind to go wild in the gift shop, albeit in more subtle ways— like staring really hard at something or carrying something only to put it down for you to get the hint. He ends up getting the both of you a big plushy to cuddle and name on the way home.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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7-wonders · 3 years

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For a little over a month now, you had been dating Duncan Shepherd, and it was...surprisingly low-key considering how high-profile he was. That's not to say that this is a bad thing. In fact, it's been really nice. Dinner dates at the backs of restaurants, movie nights at your place, even just driving aimlessly and talking with each other. Over the past month, you've gotten to really know the man that many magazines refer to as "untouchable," finding out that those assumptions are all lies. In fact, you've never been so comfortable in the beginning stages of a relationship with someone before.

Which is why you're waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You're not used to things going so good for you. Work, personal life, relationships--all manage to end up going in the opposite direction of where you wanted them to go. This is probably the reason that it took three weeks of Duncan chasing after you after meeting at a work conference (you'll never forget watching this 30-something man who had been covered in Forbes walk up to a group of late Millenials/early Gen Zs and look entirely out of his element) before you agreed to go out with him. You're just naturally guarded, and there's nothing wrong with that. But, you'll admit, it is nice to be vulnerable sometimes. Especially when that results in an extremely beautiful man taking out out and showering you with attention.

Said beautiful man is who makes your phone buzz on your desk. It's 3:30 on a Friday, and you're really not doing much work anyways.

"It's a beautiful day out, are you up for ditching work and going for a walk through the park?"

You feel yourself flush, as you always do whenever Duncan texts you. Before you can respond, another text comes in.

"Too late, I'm already outside your office."

Sure enough, you look up and see him chatting to your coworker. His eyes flick towards you, and he grins when he sees that you're shrugging your coat on. "Hi," you say shyly, a little flustered that he's here in your office right now.

"Hi. Hope I didn't interrupt any work."

"You did. I was very busy staring at my blank computer screen."

Duncan chuckles, wrapping his arm around you and leading you out of the office. you turn to wave goodbye to your coworker, who is currently fanning herself with her hand and mouthing "oh my god!"

"So what are you doing out of your office on a Friday afternoon?"

"Ah, they didn't have much use for me anyways." You laugh, knowing that's an obvious lie. His uncle would make him live at the office if he had the chance. "No, I figured I could take off a couple of hours early. Lord knows I've worked enough lately."

"You sure the world won't stop spinning because you're gone?"

Duncan grabs your hand, swinging it lightly as you cross a crosswalk. "If it does, at least I'm with you." You look up at him in pleased surprise, and he steals a kiss. "There is something I've been wanting to discuss with you, though. Figured this would be a good time to do it."

Oh god. The other shoe. "You're not married or something, are you?"

"No, I'm not married."

"Thank god," you breathe a literal sigh of relief.

"Was that really what you were worried about? That you were an unknowing mistress?"

"That, and that you might be a serial killer." You side-eye him. "Verdict's still out on that one."

He laughs. "I can promise you that neither of those are true."

"So what did you want to tell me? If you're not a married serial killer."

You come to a stop when Duncan does, staring at him as he nervously rubs the back of his neck. "Um, I...I have a child."

"A child?" He nods. "Like, a tiny human that shares your DNA?" Another nod.

"I understand that this might be a shock to you."

"No! No, it's not a shock. I'm just surprised, is all."

"I've never told any of the previous women I've dated about her, because typically the fling ends as just a fling, and her safety is something that I'm very protective of."

"Your daughter?"

"Yes, Elizabeth. She's three."

You smile, the mental image of Duncan as a dad something intensely heartwarming.

"As I was saying, I don't typically tell my dates about her, but you and I are getting fairly serious and I don't want to hide such an important part of my life from you."

"We're getting serious, huh?" Duncan laughs lightly. "Can I call you my boyfriend?"

"As long as I can call you my girlfriend."

"Is your daughter's mother...around?"

"No. She stuck around for two months after Elizabeth was born, and then she left. We weren't dating for very long before she got pregnant. I told her that I wanted the baby, even if she didn't." Duncan shrugs. "I guess she didn't."

"I'm so sorry that you had to deal with that, Duncan."

"I'd rather raise my daughter to know she has one parent that loves her so much instead of one parent that loves her and one parent that doesn't care." Though he hasn't revealed much about his past, you do know that he has a complicated relationship with his family, which is probably where those feelings come from.

"Thank you for telling me. I'm glad that you trust me enough to talk about someone so precious to you."

"I want you in my life, (Y/N), hopefully for a long time, but I need you to know that she'll always come first."

Well, if you didn't think you were head over heels for him before, this solidifies it.

"If you're okay with it, I want you to meet her."

You look up in surprise. "You do?"

"Of course. I'm not going to tell you all of this just for you to not meet her."

"I'd love to!" you say quickly, not wanting him to think you're hesitant. "Would she be okay with it?"

Duncan nods. "I'll talk to her about it, but I don't see why not. Do you want to come over tonight? I can cook dinner, and you can actually see where I live."

You try not to show it, but your eyes widen. Not only would you be meeting his daughter, but now you'd be visiting his place for the first time. "Um, sure!"

"I'll text you, but does five work? That gives me some time after the nanny leaves."

"Five is great."

"You sure?" He smirks. "You look a little nervous."

"I'm sure." Duncan kisses you once more before bidding you farewell, leaving you to walk home and try not to internally freak out.

///

After spending way too much time figuring out what to wear before realizing you're meeting your boyfriend's three-year-old and not the Queen of England, you're at the address Duncan had texted you at approximately 5:05 (not too late, but also not punctual or, even worse, early). You shift from foot to foot nervously after knocking on the door of the townhouse, not quite sure if you should let yourself in.

Before you can make that decision, it's made for you when the door is opened by Duncan. He's grinning, barefoot and casual, with a tiny pair of arms wrapped around his neck and big blue eyes shyly gazing up at you from where a head is hidden against his shoulder. Instantly, your nerves melt away when you see that she's truly Duncan's carbon copy, from the eyes to the brown curls to the way she looks at you as if she's trying to figure you out.

"Hi, come in." Duncan ushers you in, kissing you on the cheek as he takes your coat. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Wine?" you ask before wondering if you can even drink wine when there's a small child around.

"Perfect, I already opened a bottle." Duncan looks at his daughter, brushing her curls back before whispering something in her ear. "(Y/N), this is my daughter, Elizabeth. Lizzie, this is Daddy's special friend, (Y/N), remember?"

"Hi Elizabeth, it's very nice to meet you," you say with a smile.

She looks up at you. "Hi," she says before burying her face in Duncan's shoulder again, making both you and him chuckle.

"The, uh, food's probably almost ready. It's chicken and rice, if you're okay with that."

"Definitely!"

"I wanted chicken nuggets, but Daddy said that's not 'date food,'" Elizabeth pipes up. You laugh as Duncan blushes.

"That's where your dad and I disagree, because I would eat chicken nuggets every night if I could."

She grins, and you feel like you just won the lottery. "Me too."

"Can I set you down, sweetie? I have to check the stove," Duncan explains. He speaks to her so softly, which is such a change from the demanding man you see when he's on work calls, or the romantic who loves to make you flustered. Once she agrees, he puts her on the floor and she immediately runs off, presumably to the living room or her bedroom.

"She's so cute," you gush once she's out of earshot.

"Yeah, she is," he says fondly, moving something off of the stove before kissing you properly. "I think she likes you."

"You can tell?"

He shrugs. "Father's intuition."

"I wasn't sure if I should have brought her a gift, like a toy or something?"

"I'm glad you didn't. My mom spoils her rotten with toys, she has way more than she needs."

"Can I help you with anything?"

"Would you mind setting the table, actually?" He points to a cupboard. "Dishes are up there."

Everywhere you look, there's signs of the little girl that lives here, whether it be crayon artwork on the fridge or the kid plastic plates in the cupboard. You smile at a picture of Duncan pushing Elizabeth on a swing as you set down the plates and cutlery, Duncan putting dishes of food on the middle of the table.

"Elizabeth!" he calls. "Dinner's ready!" You can hear the pattering of her little feet before you see her sprinting into the dining room like she's racing Usain Bolt.

"Daddy, can I sit with (Y/N)?" she asks, making your heart almost explode.

"I don't know, you'd have to ask (Y/N)," he says, hiding a grin as he looks at you.

"(Y/N), can I sit with you?"

"Yeah." Your voice comes out as little more than a whisper due to how choked up you are, so you clear your throat and try again. "Yeah," you say, louder.

You sit down on the chair closest to Duncan, and Elizabeth clambers up onto your lap. Once she's comfy, she makes grabby hands at the plate that Duncan is making for her. Your hands hover awkwardly at your sides, not sure what to do. What if you move too fast and scare her off? No, that's with wild animals, not toddlers. Yet again, the decision of what to do is made for you when she gets her plate and begins to talk to you.

Throughout dinner, Duncan can hardly eat, so wrapped up in watching you interact with his daughter as you listen to every word she says and chat with her about whatever she's deemed more important than her food. He's not sure of the last time that he was ever this happy; maybe the day Elizabeth was born? Listening to you laugh at one of the jokes she learned at nursery school and has told at least a hundred times by now, he's sure that he made the right choice in saying that he wants you around for a while.

IDK who even would want to read this so I'm just tagging a couple of people @sojournmichael @michaellangdon @xavierplympton @blakescoven @mrslangdonn @michaellangdonstanaccount

#duncan shepherd #house of cards #duncan shepherd imagine #duncan shepherd imagines #duncan shepherd x reader

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baeklooming-day · 3 years

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Carousel of daisies | Baekhyun

🪄 Summary: A ghost who’s prison has been a magical carousel loved by kids for long decades, a ghost who will be set free only if he meets his soulmate, his daisy.

🪄 Genre: Ghost!AU, Soulmate!AU, Magic!AU, fluff

🪄 Word Count: 6.8k

🪄 A/N: Thank you Baekhyun for inspiring me. I love you.

🪄 Listen to Amusement Park 🎠

Masterlist.

1904

Amusement parks were without a bigger question a beautiful and colorful place to be, full of bedazzling joy and kids’ laughter.

Some of them were the wandering type of an amusement park, appearing and disappearing again in a particular spot, just to offer their candies and lights to everyone in town to enjoy with their loved ones.

Some people liked to call these parks „the pop-up amusement parks”, and even though usually they would announce a similar visit to make all the parents in town aware in advance of the soon to be frolics of their kids in a complete awe of the many jolly attractions which they were always so eager to try for themselves, the so awaited and cherished amusement parks used to simply move in a week or even a few days later without even caring to leave a notice to let it be known that they would be soon taking all the fun away again, leaving it a mystery if they would come back, or if another wandering amusement park was about to visit in their place anytime soon.

Apparently a lot of families thought of it to appear to be an even greater issue for the amusement parks to disappear so suddenly and quickly as if under a magical spell than to visit in the first place, so with the passing of time lots of different complaints had been filled and submitted to the mayor’s office, demanding to simply do something about it, to find a good enough solution to prevent all the kids in town from throwing big tantrums as soon as they learned that the park left, and at the same time to give them something equally as merry and bright to enjoy themselves in their leisure time.

To gift all the kids something to give them joy whenever, everyday, something what would stay and never go away, something what would always be bound to just be there no matter what.

An own amusement park was unfortunately, but unquestionably out of the question. The reason was not because the town could not allow themselves an expense of a similar level, but because there wasn’t really anyone who was actually willing to dedicate their hours during the day to look after the place and all the possible guests and screaming kids.

A simple, traditional playground had been crossed out of the suggestions list as well, alone for the fact that there already was a plenty of new colorful playgrounds around the town, and an additional one would obviously not be the most desirable thing in place of the amusement parks which the kids loved so much.

So everyone continued thinking carefully, everyone was contemplating and asking themselves what thing could possibly be the best choice out of all ideas named previously. Or perhaps the most entertaining idea had not been listed just yet?

Some well founded features had been kept in mind throughout the whole process of weekly brainstorming between the citizens, and those were that the new entertainment for kids in town should be, before anything else, something very particular and timeless.

And just as they thought that there was not such thing when nobody seemed to be able to come up with a suitable idea, someone simply threw the totally random, yet immediately enthralling suggestion.

„Let’s build a carousel.”

Almost all pairs of eyes present by the discussion snapped into the direction of the owner of the voice at the same time.

„A carousel?” Asked someone at the other side of the long table where everyone else was sitting.

„Yes, indeed.” Answered the same smooth voice. „We have a lot of playgrounds around our town, and some of them do have carousels but these are not really what I have in mind.”

„Enlighten us.”

„Let’s make it a carousel worthy of those standing in the biggest amusement parks as of now. In that way, the kids would have a piece of an amusement park everyday, but it wouldn’t be that big of a struggle to keep it together than a whole park, you know what I wanna say?” The owner of the voice slowly leaned back in his seat, waiting for a response from his fellow citizens.

„Well...” Someone started. „I know what you mean. But is it even possible to pull this off? Those large carousels are almost an artwork themselves with how they look, in all these precise tiny details and colorings, let alone the mechanism inside them to make them move. Are you sure-”

„Yes.” Responded the smooth voice. „I want to do it. I need to do it.” A small pause. „For my son.”

„For your son?”

„Yes. For Baekhyun.”

„Awe, the little Baekhyun, always all over every carousel at playgrounds, right? Alright. I think your idea is good.” Said someone else, agreeing with the idea.

The young man smiled contentedly in his seat.

What wouldn’t a parent do for their own child in order to make them happy?

When the meeting ended, everyone who became enthralled with the idea rushed to prepare plans of realization of it almost right away.

The common excitement reached its peak, when many long months later after thoroughly planning and working on the project, it finally appeared, standing in the middle of the square in all its glory.

The carousel.

All the kids in town became immediately bewitched with the news, and as soon as they came to a view of the large, strikingly colorful and joyful merry-go-round displayed right before their big eyes, the cheering couldn’t find an end.

As good as every child fell in love with the newest attraction, but one particular little someone was markedly left in awe way more than all the other children.

A very little boy, with the softest locks of hair colored like pearls, was walking around the carousel with his little mouth agape, looking at it from every angle, kneeling on the ground in his lilac trousers to take a look at that joy from down below.

„Do you like it, Baekhyun?”

„Oh, yes!” The little boy exclaimed. „I love it, dad!” He quickly pulled himself up and approached his smiling father in jumping steps. „I loooooove it! I love it so much I wanna stay in that carousel forever!”

The young man let out a soft laugh. „Be careful what you wish for, my dear Baekhyun. It might really come true, sometimes differently than you originally wanted.”

Baekhyun looked up, with his brown eyes seemingly confused.

„But talking is not what we are here for today, is it?” The man said briefly, putting his hand on Baekhyun’s little head, gently caressing his pearly hair. „Do you want to make the honors of the first official ride on the carousel?” He asked, a wide smile making its way back on his lips as soon as he noticed the unduly frolic expression on his son’s face.

„Yes! Yes, I do want to!”

2004

The weather was outstandingly cold that afternoon, significantly much more colder than you were able to recall remembering the whole past week.

It was very, very early but awaited spring which has finally fallen on the quiet town, and if one was observant enough, tiny and green leaf blossoms which were just about to start blooming sometime soon, as if still too timid to break through their delicate shell and spread all over the branches of the trees soaking them in green, could be seen from a distance.

The afternoon, just like the whole day, has been cold, but as if to make up for the not so particularly pleasant temperature the sun was gently throwing its reassuring and comforting gold gleams and twinkles everywhere you could look, making a soothing, almost idyllic atmosphere at the square which merely appeared before your big curious eyes.

It was the first day when the sky was not all covered with weighing dark clouds, so you were continuously emanating with clear joy knowing that even if it took you the longest time ever, you had convinced your mom to take you to the square to play in the afternoon.

And now you were finally out there, letting out a sudden squeak of joy as soon as you came to a view of what you have been longing for ever since the first time as you heard your grandmother mentioning it at their home.

The beautiful, sparkling carousel full with colors, lights, and children’s happy giggles as it moved around spinning their world on that jolly merry-go-round ride.

“Mom!” You called out to your mom with as much volume as a four-year-old little girl could master, noticing how she was left far behind you because of how slowly she proceeded to walk. “Mom, mom, mommy! Look! Walk faster, mommy!” You continued to yell.

“Heavens, Y/N.” She exhaled, shivering a little as the cold breeze blew in her smooth face. “I am not used to these temperatures, not used at all.” She added under her breath, but not loud enough for you to hear.

You gave her a questioning look with your dazzly eyes. “Are you cold, mommy?” You asked, scooting a little closer to her and wrapping your small arms around her left leg.

“Yes honey, mommy is cold. Look-” She bent down to match your level, taking your little hands in hers. “Do you feel it? Cold as ice!” She said with a smile audible in her soft voice as she watched your eyes sparkling even more.

“But I am immune to coldness!” You exclaimed proudly.

“You are my little ice queen, yeah?” She soothed the wild silky locks on your small head, messy from the wind and from running. “But I feel like I will freeze if I stay like this any while longer.” She looked to the side, her eyes becoming instantly as big and sparkling as yours when she noticed a lovely coffee and tea house with people lining up to the entrance.

Your mom said something to you then, but as much as all your focus has usually always been on your mom, you did not hear a thing whilst your attention was brought somewhere else, your eyes being glued to something what seemed like only visible to you.

People were walking past him, not giving even one look, as if he was invisible for them, whilst in the background right behind him there was the colorful object of your awe, the carousel, spinning around with other laughing kids.

He looked as if he was frozen in a motion scene, just standing there calmly and holding a flower. He was wearing a sweater in a dark shade of teal, with two visible white stripes and blue and orange flowers at the front. His hair was of a color equivalent to a real pearl, his loose light locks looking as if they radiated some mysterious kind of gleam from within, just as if made of stardust.

The boy looked at you, blinking slowly, and you looked back, deciding to send him a candy smile as you felt some weird sort of warmth filling your young heart the longer your bright eyes stayed locked with his dark ones.

You were being pulled to the carousel and to the mystical boy with pearl colored hair, or at least that was how you felt when you suddenly let go of your mom’s hand, feeling a peculiar need to run in his direction.

But before you could do so, you felt your mom’s still very cold hand clasping around your own. “Y/N, did you hear what I just said? I said that I will go really, really quickly to buy a hot steaming coffee to warm myself up, alright? You will be a good little girl and will stay by the carousel until mommy comes back, will you?” She said. “You can already get on, I will be back before the ride ends, alright?”

You only nodded eagerly, earning a comforting smile from your mom as she dashed to the coffee place which was just two steps away from where you two were standing.

You quickly turned your little head to look at the boy again, but the moment your eyes landed where you saw him just seconds ago, you immediately noticed that he was gone, nowhere to be seen, as if disappeared in thin air. Nonetheless, you decided to walk up to the carousel, not wanting to believe that this mystical person wouldn’t appear before you in a minute again.

Baekhyun immediately felt this too, in the moment you came into his vision. He would lie if he claimed that he was not taken by a complete surprise as the unforeseen wave of peculiar warmth rushed to fill his ghostly heart. There was a time when he longed for this particular feeling to find him, there was a time when he would stay alert every minute of the day and look for you himself as much as the unbreakable bond which held him close to the carousel allowed him to.

It has been one hundred years since the carousel was built.

And it has already been eighty two years since he died.

Nobody would even ever suspect that the beloved and only son of the man who gave the town that marvelous, magical carousel, would leave at the young age of just twenty two, one windy day in 1922.

Baekhyun himself wasn’t too content to recall the events which took place in that memorable for his loved ones year. The mere thought which flashed through his mind the moment everything went dull, was his careless childish wish from when he was just four years old and went to see the newly acquired carousel with his father.

When he said that he wanted to stay in that carousel forever.

His wish has been granted to him, what he learned as he woke up in the carousel, being almost violently pulled back to it every time he tried to leave, as if some angry, invisible, formless force was clasping its claws around his limbs to send him flying back to the twinkling merry-go-round which became his mocking prison.

There was one way to break this unusual link and to set himself free.

In order to be able to perform that, he needed to meet his soulmate.

He didn’t know how he even knew that, but right after his awakening in the carousel, this thought was one of the first things which appeared between his returning memories of his life which he left behind way too soon for the looks of it.

Baekhyun was full of hope at the beginning, but as the following years flew by and his soulmate didn’t appear, he started to lose the last sprinkles of hope that he had left.

That was the reason why he was feeling so dazed and confused, so flabbergasted and refusing to believe what was occurring around him the moment you looked at him with your sparkling eyes and smiled at him warmly.

He knew it was you.

His soulmate.

The happiness was unfortunately soon replaced by a bittersweet feeling of disappointment as soon as he realized that standing there and smiling at him just a few steps away was a little girl, around four years old.

Even if you found him now, you were much too young to fulfill his floating dream of love and freedom, and he was perfectly aware of that.

He knew that he would have to wait for you even longer, until you became older and could love him properly.

But that didn’t necessarily mean that he couldn’t talk to you now already, did it?

Baekhyun swirled the little daisy flower in his fingers, taking a decisive step next to you, the little girl with sparkling eyes.

You made a jumping beeline to the colorful carousel, your mouth forming a little “o” at the view of shining figures of white horses which were spinning around happily.

You scrunched your little nose unamused, as you noticed all the horses being occupied, the ride not looking like it was about to end too soon as well.

“Why is everything taken?” You asked grumpily, throwing longing glimpses at the carousel.

“Do you want to ride on the merry-go-round too?” Asked an unfamiliar, velvet like voice coming from beside you.

Your little head instantly snapped to the direction of the sound, your eyes looking up to meet those of the owner of that melodic voice speaking to you.

“Oh!” You exclaimed. “Oh! You are the starry mister!” You said in awe, pointing your little finger at Baekhyun, examining his face.

He let out a soft chuckle, kneeling beside you to be on your eye level. “Starry?” He asked.

“Your hair looks like stars! So pretty!” You said, reaching out your small hand to sloppily caress his pearl locks in a childish manner.

Baekhyun felt another wave of warmth flowing through his foggy ghost heart, feeling a loving smile spreading on his lips. Seeing your natural childish curiosity and amazement, he was happy that he could witness it when you were still a little innocent child, yet to learn lots about life.

“What is your name?” He asked.

“My name is Y/N!” You replied joyfully. “And you?”

“Baekhyun.”

“So you are the magical Baekhyun.” You stated.

“Magical? Do you like magic?” Baekhyun asked.

“Yes, I do! And I like flowers too!” You answered.

“Flowers? Which flowers do you like?” He asked you another question, before looking at the white daisy which he has been holding in his hand all that time. “Do you like daisies, Y/N?

“I like daisies!” You replied. “And I like you, Baekhyun! You are nice and you have pretty hair!” You added, giving him a candy grin.

“Is that so?” Baekhyun couldn’t help it but mirror your genuine smile. “Will you be my daisy?” He asked, holding up the flower for you to see.

Your sparkling eyes fell on the little daisy immediately. “Yes, I will be your daisy!” You reached out your arm, squealing in joy when Baekhyun placed the small flower in your open hand.

“This is a promise, okay?” He said.

“Of course!” You nodded in agreement, even though you couldn’t understand it just yet.

The little magical moment was interrupted though, when suddenly the familiar voice of your mother filled the air, reaching your ears.

“Y/N! There you are!”

“Mommy, are you warm now?”

“Yes, I bought a coffee. Look!” Your mom happily held up a steaming cup of coffee, the steam visible as a faint white cloud in the chilly air. “Have you been standing here the whole time? Didn’t you want to get on the carousel?” She asked a little bewildered.

“I was talking to Baekhyun!” You said smiling.

If your mom looked bewildered before, now she must have looked totally puzzled. “Baekhyun? Who’s Baekhyun?” She asked.

“My new friend with hair that looks like stars!” You said, but then you knitted your eyebrows. “Mommy, he is standing right next to me!”

Your mom’s eyes looked at you, then at the air beside you, before she let out a deep breath and gently took your hand.

“They told me that having imaginary friends is normal at that age, yeah, they definitely told me that.” She mumbled to herself whilst sipping on her hot coffee, leading you away from the carousel.

You quickly turned around to have one last look at Baekhyun, still standing by the spinning carousel with his hands in his pockets, his eyes following your small figure. “Bye, Baekhyun! I will come back!” You yelled, waving him goodbye with your right hand.

“Y/N, stop it! There is none there! And let’s hurry, the wind is becoming worse, ugh!” Said your mom.

Baekhyun did not move, he stood like that as long as you were still visible in the distance.

He smiled.

Of course your mother could not see him. You were usually starting to lose the ability to see beyond living beings as you were becoming older, and little kids couldn’t tell the difference between a living person and a ghost.

Baekhyun put his hand on his head where your small fingers touched his hair, smiling softly.

“Until we meet again, my daisy.”

2021

“Woah!” Said your friend, Lorena, whilst whirling around and taking in the blooming sight of lovely cherry trees being planted everywhere you could lay your eyes. “You weren’t lying, Y/N, this town legitimately looks like out of a Disney film.” She added, stopping right next to you and your other friend, Lily.

“I told you multiple times.” You said with an elfin sneer.

“You did, but when was the last time you actually visited this place?” Asked Lorena. “When you were a toddler?”

You gave her a little judging look, only for the three of you to burst out in genuine laughter not even two seconds later.

You were nearing your 21st birthday with every following day, and because this year was of a particular meaning to you for many different reasons, you decided to spend it with your two closest friends in the charming small town where your grandparents lived, and recall the memories of when you were playing there as a little child one day in early spring.

But it was not the only reason why you were walking through the old climatic streets with buildings covered in green ivy just now.

As of lately, you have been having peculiar dreams.

You never linked any meaningful value to your dreams, merely because you just didn’t believe that there was anything extraordinary to that, a dream was after all just what your brain went through to “filter” itself at night, right?

But this time was quite different. You kept having weird blurry dreams where the only thing you could really make out of it was a colorful merry-go-round full of warm lights on the background of blurred delicate shades of gold and yellow. Sometimes it was the only object visible, but sometimes you could also see something else.

In the first dream in which you witnessed it, you couldn’t really tell what it was. The figure was standing before the spinning merry-go-round, looking as if painted with delicate, but messy brush strokes on a flawless canvas, forming a mix of dark and light colors. Knowing you, you just decided to completely ignore it, not thinking too much about it the next morning when you woke up. But as the days passed, you kept seeing that mysterious figure by the merry-go-round, with the difference that with every following dream it was becoming more clear.

More clear, but not clear enough to tell every little detail. All you could really tell was that it was clearly a person, just standing there, holding something in their hand, whilst their hair seemed to be glowing under the lights of the slowly spinning carousel behind them.

When these dreams have not left you alone for a whole month, you finally decided to visit the small town you knew from your early childhood, for it was the only place you knew which you could connect with the mystical merry-go-round you saw in your dreams every night as soon as you closed your eyes.

“Ey Lily, do you think there is a Starbucks somewhere?” Asked Lorena.

“I don’t know, but I saw a really pretty coffee place somewhere as we walked here.” Answered Lily, brushing her a little too long lilac dyed bangs away from her forehead. “It looked really old school, if you ask me. Oh, look, it’s there!” She pointed to a small building between the pink cherry trees, its walls seeming to be shimmering in a beautiful rose gold color.

“Oh my, it’s even cooler than Starbucks! Let’s go in there. Y/N?” Lorena turned around to look at you, but you couldn’t hear a word she just said.

Your sparkling eyes were glued to the one and only thing standing majestically in the middle of the square you knew so well from your memories and dreams.

The carousel.

It has not changed, it has not changed even a little from what you could tell, still being as colorful and merry as the last time when you saw it all those long years ago.

There were kids spinning around and laughing, other people just walking by, the scene awakening some kind of nostalgia inside you, knowing that this view was indeed very, very familiar to you, bringing back the events of the idyllic year 2004.

You were left there in awe, admiring the happy sight, when out of nowhere you felt a little wave of a warm feeling, as if comforting warmth flowing through your heart.

You felt your eyes widening a little, when in the moving crowd of other people you noticed a person, standing still and looking straight at you, with locks of very light, glistening hair.

Subconsciously, your feet took one, two steps ahead in the direction of that mystical person, feeling the peculiar need to just run to them.

But just as you took another step closer and wanted to look more closely who it was, the person disappeared, as if instantly brushed away with a magical spell.

You stopped, confused, looking around to see if there was anyone with such a light hair color, really resembling a pearl.

But there was none, no matter how carefully you looked.

“Y/N! Where are you going? Did you hear what we just said?” Asked Lorena, placing her hand on your shoulder, looking a little bewildered. “Left unattended you just start wandering off, just like when we were in school!” She paused, before talking again. “So listen, apparently there is a newly built game arcade just around the corner, how cool is that? And apparently, they have the old school Super Mario there! So Lily suggested that we go get a coffee at that pretty store there, and then we go to the arcade seeing that the night is falling already-” She took out her phone, checking the time. “Is it a good plan or is it a super good plan?” She asked joyously, looking at you.

But you were only half listening, your eyes still looking for the person with pearly hair between the people. “Y/N?” Lorena started again, her soft voice sounding a little concerned once she noticed your dazed expression. “What are you looking at?”

You brought your attention back to your friend, looking at her with two big question marks visible in your sparkling eyes. “I just saw someone. Someone familiar.” You replied, letting out an audible gasp when once again, before the merry-go-round, you saw him.

Now you could see clearly what the mystifying person looked like.

It was a boy. More or less around your own age. He was wearing a dark teal sweater with a floral pattern on it, and his hair was resembling a shining pearl. The soft looking locks of light hair were sliding gently on his forehead as he ever so lightly tilted his head to the left, his mystical eyes not leaving yours for even a split second.

“He’s standing right there, by the merry-go-round.” You said quietly, pointing your finger to the said direction.

Lily and Lorena both followed the direction where you pointed, but soon ended up giving each other, and yourself, puzzling looks.

“Um, Y/N, boo, there is none standing by the merry-go-round.” Said Lily. “Everyone is walking, besides the kids playing there are also going home already.”

You looked at Lily in disbelief. “But Lily, he IS there, the boy with-” You paused, feeling the already familiar warmth spilling on your heart the moment the boy smiled at you. “The boy with hair like pearls.” You said, just a little above a whisper.

“I really don’t see anyone like that, Y/N.” Said Lorena, now gently taking your hand and pulling you away from the carousel. “Let’s go and have a drink, okay?”

You nodded faintly, letting your friends take you away to the coffee place mentioned earlier.

There was no way that none else beside you could see the boy with pearly hair, whilst he was clearly just standing there in one point, not moving even an inch and instead just his eyes being fixated on one point in front of him.

On you.

He had this undeniably peculiar aura to him, he didn’t seem like just any regular person you could meet around on a daily basis, not even addressing the obvious until now fact, that everybody else genuinely seemed to not be able to see him standing there.

You watched the sky through the large glass window inside the lovely coffee place, as it became always darker and darker as the night was falling above the town.

You were holding your half empty, but still steaming, dark mocha in your small hands, contemplating whether your eyes started playing tricks on you or if you indeed saw what you saw just moments ago.

“So, girls.” Started Lorena, as soon as she finished her own cup of coffee, wiping away the cream from her nude lip. “Seriously, let’s go to that game arcade. It has been so long since we all played something old school like that.”

“I told you, my ideas are always the best.” Said Lily. “Y/N?”

You were just about to give your friend an answer, when briefly you caught a glimpse of a pearly head outside by the merry-go-round.

You flinched immediately, taking the last sip of your mocha and quickly standing up from the table. “Listen, you two can go ahead to the arcade, I really need to check something first. I will join you there later, okay?” You said, not even waiting for your friends’ reply and running out of the building.

“I’m a little worried about our Y/N, to be honest.” Said Lorena. “She literally looked as if she saw a ghost.” She added.

“Me too, if I’m being honest.” Said Lily. “But something tells me it isn’t anything bad. Let’s just go to the arcade and wait for Y/N like she told us to do. If she doesn’t show up within twenty minutes we will call her or just come back here.” She added, finishing her own drink.

By the time your friends left the coffee place and directed themselves to the game arcade, you were already circling the still illuminated, but completely quiet by now, merry-go-round. You were more than totally sure that you saw him standing just here again, but by the time you got out of the store and reached the middle of the square, he was nowhere to be seen.

You sighed in disbelief, running your fingers through your long silky locks.

The otherwise full of beans big square, was now completely quiet and empty under the dark blue night sky, all covered in twinkling stars creating a real magical atmosphere.

The majestic carousel, the object of your complete acclaim when you were just four years old, was still wholly illuminated and bright presenting itself before your eyes.

“Why is everything so quiet.” You said quietly to yourself.

“Last time everything was way too crowded, wasn’t it?” Said a velvet like voice, right next to you.

You flinched, startled a little by the sudden unfamiliar voice.

Or was it really unfamiliar?

Your head instantly snapped to the direction of the sound, making your jaw drop in awe, disbelief, and total surprise all at the same time.

Right before your eyes, there was the mystical boy with shining pearly hair and chocolate brown eyes which looked at you in a longing way.

“You are-” You started, still flabbergasted. “You are the boy with hair like pearls.”

“Pearls?” Asked the boy. “But I clearly remember you used to call it hair like stars.” He said softly.

Your eyes widened a little. “What? Wait.” You paused. “Do I know you?” You asked.

“You might know my name but you do not remember the owner.” He replied.

What on earth?

You were left a little, and by a little you wanted to say a lot, dazed and confused by his words, so as silly as it might have sounded you decided to change the subject by asking him a random question. “Um-” You started. “I saw the number 1922 engraved in the carousel, was it the year it was built?” You asked, looking at him with your sparkling eyes.

Her eyes are still as sparkling as I remember.

“No.” The boy replied, his voice smoother than anything else you have ever heard. “It was built in 1904.” He added.

“Woah.” You said in a genuine amazement. “Respect to those who take care of it, it looks as if it was newly built. But why is there 1922 then? Shouldn’t it be 1904 if it was the year it was built?” You asked, tracing the fine lines of detailed colorful engravings on the carousel.

“Do you know the story of this carousel?” The boy asked.

You looked at him, shaking your head, a sign for him to continue speaking.

“One of the noblemen of this town built this carousel for his only child in 1904.” He started. “1922 was the year when his son passed away.” He said in a quiet tone.

A little frown fell on your scarlet lips. “How old was he?” You asked.

“Twenty two.”

“Just one year older than me.” You muttered to yourself. “What a waste. He had his whole life ahead of him. What was his name?” You said.

“His name was Baekhyun.” The boy replied softly.

You paused for a brief moment, frozen.

Baekhyun?

You were sure you have already heard this name somewhere.

When you didn’t reply, the boy continued talking. “This carousel was of a great meaning to him.” He said. “And during spring time, he liked to collect daisies on the hill over there when he was little.” He added, looking at you warmly.

“Daisies?” You asked, feeling as if some old, forgotten memories were coming back to you the moment he said the name of these little flowers.

“Yes, daisies.” He said, a small smile falling on his soft lips. “Do you like daisies?”

“Um, yes, I do like daisies.” You replied slowly, not knowing what was the peculiar feeling which has flown over you just now.

The boy took a decisive step closer to you, soon you felt his cold hand very gently taking yours, not breaking eye contact. “Will you be my daisy?”

And then you felt it, everything coming back as if in a flash. The cold early spring day in 2004, you with your silky locks disheveled by the wind, the beautiful carousel, and the ghostly, mystical boy holding a single daisy, invisible to all the people around, but to you.

And then you also remembered it.

You remembered it when that boy with hair like pearls told you his name.

His name was Baekhyun.

“But, but-” You started, looking at him with big eyes. “No, this is impossible. You look-” You paused, breathing in and out. “You look just the same as then.” You were still feeling the cold coming from his soft hand, you gently squeezed it as if to prove to yourself that it was not a dream. “Could you really be the same Baekhyun who I have met here all those years back?” You asked in disbelief, your sparkling eyes twinkling in the moonlight as you looked at the mystical boy before you. “Could you be the same son of the nobleman who built this carousel? The same Baekhyun who died in 1922?” You asked in a quieter tone, not believing the sight before your eyes. “Is this really not a dream?”

She remembers.

“I have waited seventeen years for you to find me again, my daisy.” Baekhyun’s chocolate eyes were now just as sparkling as yours, little happy twinkles dancing in them as he reached his other hand to very gently cup your cheek, bringing your face closer to his.

You just looked at him in awe, the familiar feeling of warmth filling your heart spilling all over you again as he tenderly placed his lips on yours.

The moment your lips touched, you immediately noticed that his equally cold hands and lips started becoming warm, living, losing the ghostly cold they held before.

Without even being aware of this, your own free hand circled around Baekhyun’s neck, letting him kiss you in the sweetest way possible and letting yourself kiss him back.

The moment his lips left yours, you suddenly heard a loud sound similar to that of a breaking glass somewhere near the carousel.

With your arm still around him, you watched as Baekhyun’s eyes fell on the carousel, or more like on the ground next to it. You looked at the ground flabbergasted yourself, when laying there, completely broken, were immense chains made of the thickest glass.

The wave of warmth flew over you one more time when Baekhyun turned his head to look at you again, a light scarlet shade starting to color his once milky and bloodless cheeks.

Your fingers lingered a brief while before gently placing themselves on his cheek, the previous cold being completely gone, instead you felt the warmth coming from within his skin.

Just as if he was wholly alive again.

He appeared to become aware of this too, when he placed his own hand over your small one, feeling his lightly flushed cheek. “Am I-” He started in disbelief, his chocolate eyes widening. “Am I alive?”

You yourself were left in a complete awe even more than before, being able to do just as much as to look him in those brown eyes and nod eagerly, repeatedly.

It was crazy, the whole day in this small town full of magic, and you were more than sure that the most people would never believe it or simply give you stupid looks.

You were more than sure that none would be in the position to actually understand the unusual events which took place by the old merry-go-round, but you wouldn’t be too surprised, because you couldn’t really understand them yourself.

All you knew was the warmth which filled your heart always more and more, the longer your sparkling eyes stayed locked with Baekhyun’s brown ones, and the longer you stayed locked in his warm embrace.

Your eyes traveled over every little detail of his handsome face, until your fingers gently brushed away his pearly bangs which fell on his eyes.

He was perfect.

“So” You started softly. “I will be happy to be your daisy.” You said.

And you could swear, that this particular smile which appeared on his lips was the most enthralling thing in the whole universe.

“You will?” He asked, smile audible in his velvet like voice.

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

You stood there, softly smiling at each other, living in the moment of a magical marvel.

All you could see in that beautiful while was all the life which was coming back to Baekhyun’s eyes, the eyes which were lifeless and foggy just moments ago.

What you failed to see were your two best friends, Lorena and Lily, standing just some feet away, observing the lovely scene in awe.

“Do you see that, Lily?” Asked Lorena. “I would suggest you and me both make an appointment by the eye doctor, that boy with hair like pearls or whatever is REAL. Y/N really saw him there, but we did not?” She said, rubbing her eyes as if to make sure that she was seeing right. “And damn, he is handsome. Holy freak, they are both beautiful. My eyes start to hurt from all this beauty.”

Lily let out a genuine laugh. “You know what, Lori, let’s just go. Something tells me that those two have a lot of stuff to catch up on.” She said, taking Lorena’s hand to gently pull her away.

“Buuuut-” Said Lorena. “I really wanna know who he is.”

“An old friend?” Said Lily, whilst leading the still talking Lorena away.

Meanwhile, you and Baekhyun were still standing in the same position next to the colorful merry-go-round.

“You know, I actually never got to get on the merry-go-round.” You said.

“Well then-” Said Baekhyun, throwing a quick look at all the empty white horses reflecting the magical lights of the carousel before looking back at you. “Do you want to go on a merry-go-round ride with me?” He asked, a little pending audible in his velvet voice.

“Yes. Yes, I do.” You replied.

If you thought that looking at the carousel alone was a magical sight, then you surely felt as if you were in another magical dimension whilst you were spinning around on one of those snow white horses with Baekhyun right next to you.

The moment was even more magical, when a very soft and pretty melody reached your ears, sounding as if it was coming from inside of the spinning carousel.

Merry-go, merry-go, merry-go-round...

Beautiful you on the merry-go-round.

The lights of the merry-go-round have indeed always been beautiful and bedazzling, but right in that moment, that warm night, nothing could be more brighter than the twinkles in your sparkling eyes, and Baekhyun’s chocolate brown ones as you spun around for the tenth time.

It was perfect.

Author’s End Note: Thank you for reading! Don’t forget to REBLOG if you liked it and leave me your opinions! It helps to improve lots! I know that the ending might not be what everyone likes, but it seemed right to me to end the story in that and not another way. I really hope you enjoyed this, and seeing that this is the first story in 2021, I wish you all the luck and wonders in this year, and I genuinely hope it will be full of magic!!

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jisungsmochi · 3 years

Text

valentine’s day with the dreamies ❤️

hella belated valentine’s day scenarios / dates with ot7 dream hehe <3

mark lee:

took a while for him to decide on a plan for the day

didn’t want to disappoint you )):

settled with a nice trip to the beach, waiting to watch the sunset as you both had a nice dinner together

he wanted to take you away from the chaos of both your busy lives and just have time to relax with each other

he knows how tired you’ve been lately and just wants to give you some healing time

and he also wanted to profess his love for you on the beach

listening to the waves crash on the sand, the calling of seagulls, the laughter of other couples and families around you

as the sun started setting, you were leaning into mark’s side, his arm draped around your shoulders

he wrapped the both of you in a blanket as you reminisced about your relationship

“remember how you were scared shitless to ask me out? i thought you were going to faint”

“i was not scared! i just ate a bad sandwich that day” mark grumbled, hiding his face in your shoulder

you gently stroked his hair as you continued the trip down memory lane

the sky was now a mix of purple and pink hues

you immediately jumped up, pulling out your phone, to snap a picture of the gorgeous scenery

mark slowly met you, pulling your phone down, holding his hands in yours

he leant down to place a soft kiss on your lips, causing you to smile in between the pecks

“i love you” he mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear

“i love you too”

he ended up pulling out his own fancy camera, taking quick snaps of you being silly infront of the sunset

he eventually asked a nice lady to take some photos for the both of you in which she couldn’t help but coo

“you two make a beautiful couple”

heat rose to both your cheeks, too flustered by the compliment of a stranger

you spent to the rest of night chatting, too caught up endless conversations

huang renjun:

“hey, if your cute ass isn’t here in 10 minutes i’m packing up all the paints and sulking in my room for the rest of the day”

renjun texted you the morning of valentine’s day

you were already on your way to surprise him with your own small gift, having him rush you was adding to your nerves

this would be be first official valentine’s day you’d be spending together so you wanted everything to be perfect

you enthusiastically knock on his door, in which he opened instantly

he pulled you inside, dragging you to the backyard where he set up a nice picnic blanket with paints and canvases on a small table

you couldn’t help but admire all the effort he put in

you gave him a quick hug, your hold lingering on him for longer than he thought

you handed him your gift bag, filled with snacks he loved and a panda plushie with a heart attached to it

he pouted at how adorable your gift was, pulling you down to sit with him

“thank you for the gifts, babe! i hope you also like out little painting date!”

he queued up a tutorial video as you both started recreating the beautiful landscape shown

although you weren’t the best artist he had ever met

renjun couldn’t stop giggling at how concentrated you were with every stroke

“something funny?”

“nah you’re just the cutest”

subtle compliments like that was his specialty

you continued to paint as you snacked on various fruits and biscuits as well as caught up on current events in your lives

it was now time for the big reveal of your artworks...

renjun obviously outshone you but he still insisted you hang both paintings in his room for the memories

he’d take lots of polaroids to put into his photo album of your memories

huang renjun didn’t see the big deal in grand gestures for valentine’s day, as he saw every day, as a day to treat you well

lee jeno:

this boy would wake you up at the crack of dawn, practically jumping on you to go biking with him

you had flashbacks to the previous night where you agreed to go with him but immediately regretted staying up to watch new episodes of your favourite drama

jeno dragged you around your shared apartment like a rag doll, helping you change and stay awake

you knew how excited he was to take you biking for the first time, you didn’t want to crush his spirit

so you started slapping your cheeks and jumping up and down to remain awake, which jeno found amusing

you followed closely behind him as he led you through the trail

his initial idea was to get to the top before sunrise so you both could watch it together

but once he reached half way, jeno had an inkling that you were way behind

he was right

he stopped completely to wait for you, more concerned about how you were holding up rather than getting to the top

you were huffing and puffing

“why’d you stop? we have to get to the top!”

“have a sip first, babe” he pats your back as he hands you his water bottle

you felt bad for holding him back, but his concerned expression eased your mind

“we don’t have to get to the top, the sun will rise either way! who says we can’t just watch it from here?” he smiles widely at you

what did you do to deserve him?

you both stood with each other, his arm draped around your waist

the sun slowly started rising, your tired eyes glimmering in admiration

jeno’s eyes were fixed on you tho,, so proud that you attempted to bike with him

he was usually the one who always wanted to do things you liked

but when you agreed to go on this date with him, it just about made him pass out

he felt on top of the world with you by his side

this was a date he will never forget

lee donghyuck:

“really? a couple’s cooking class?” your boyfriend whined (he really loved doing that)

“yes! renjun suggested it to me, it will be fun, i promise!” you plead

as much as he loved to bicker with you, he saw how excited you were to participate in this class for valentine’s day

“do you know what we’re cooking at least?”

“i think we’re baking a cake, actually”

shouldn’t be too bad...he thought to himself

but boy was he WRONG

you both came to realise that you were not the best cooking duo in your friend group

but it didn’t mean you were gonna give up, after all, having donghyuck as your boyfriend made you as competitive as him (if that’s even possible)

he read the instructions as you grabbed the ingredients and threw them in a bowl

he would hype you up from the side like

“that’s my baby, you beat those eggs!” “our cake is gonna look so freaking good”

you would get flustered, earning a smile from the chef teaching the class

once the decoration stage came along, donghyuck insisted he do it on his own

he refused to let you watch him as he did the finishing touches

the chef revealed each cake one by one, when he got to yours, he gave you both a soft smile

“you two make such a sweet couple”

you looked down at the cake, the words

“i love you always and forever” were written on the surface

you were about to burst into tears at how sweet your boyfriend was

when you got home, after taking hundreds of photos with the beautifully decorated cake

you both devoured it like animals while watching tv together

a simple, yet memorable valentine’s day date — you couldn’t wait to tell your friends all about it

na jaemin:

as some of y’all know, jaemin used to be a short speed track racer

so naturally he was down for your idea of going ice skating for valentine’s day

you weren’t aware of how skilled he was at skating — as you yourself were merely a beginner

so when you saw how knowledgeable jaemin was when you entered the ice skating rink, you started feeling nervous

jaemin helped strap your skates on, carefully guiding you to the rink

you were still under the impression he was just as bad as you, but once you both stepped on the ice, he was immediately stable

god, he could even skate backwards

this must be so embarrassing for him to see

you started pouting,

“what’s wrong, baby?”

“i didn’t know you could skate so well! i’m so embarrassed, i can barely skate two metres!”

“i can teach you, don’t worry so much” he smiled softly at you, hands gripping yourself tightly

you couldn’t stay mad at him, immediately following his instructions

thirty minutes later, one really bruised butt cheek and some elbow bruises from falling down so much, you started getting the hang of it

jaemin let go of your hands and let you skate towards him, once you reached him, he wrapped you in his arms tightly, still gliding on the ice

your faces were so close, you could feel his breath fan your cheeks

you gave him a quick peck, mumbling a quiet ‘i love you’

jaemin couldn’t contain how adorable you were, giving you another quick kiss before telling you he loved you more than life itself

you both skated for a while, listening to throwback love songs playing over the speakers

he rarely let go of your hand, even when you insisted you were getting the hang of skating alone

he treated you to some french fries and ice cream after you finished skating

you laughed and chatted the day away, without a care in the world

being inlove with jaemin was something you would never trade for anything else in the world

zhong chenle:

a homemade dinner was always something you raved about to chenle

so once valentine’s day approached,, he made sure to give you the best dinner you could have ever imagined

he was on a call with his mum, following her instructions for the most perfect creamy pasta

you on the other hand, decided to make chocolate covered strawberries to have after dinner

you asked jaemin for help but then he just screamed he hates strawberries and left

you were placing the finishing touches on the desserts when your phone dings that chenle was ready for you to come over

you dropped everything, rushing to find the outfit you had picked earlier that day

you carefully wrapped the box of strawberries before making your way to his place

he practically swung the door open for you, pulling you to the dining table

he was hella dramatic and had those fancy covers for the food,, so he could surprise you

you just chuckled at his antics, placing a soft kiss to his cheek which made him heat up

he slowly revealed the meal he worked hard on the entire afternoon

your eyes glimmered at the sight, your mouth beginning to water

“how’d you know i love creamy pasta?”

“i listen to you when you talk, ya know”

you both enjoyed a pleasant dinner, chatting all about recent events in your life

the meal was delicious,, but it was now time for dessert

chenle practically ripped open the box, devouring one strawberry before you could even show off your creations

“you animal” you softly shove him, taking one for yourself

the rest of the night was filled with commentating cheesy romance movies and snacking on the desserts

once you finished eating, chenle handed you a small box

you opened it slowly, your jaw dropping at the gorgeous ring he had bought for you

he bought you both promise rings oop

you squealed before tackling him in a warm embrace

nothing felt better than being wrapped in his arms

park jisung:

sungie: meet me on the rooftop at 8:30

you: uhhh you’re not gonna fight me, are you?

sungie: shut up and get ready

you giggled at his response, giddy about seeing your boyfriend on valentine’s day

you weren’t sure what he had planned, but you were sure he put a lot of thought into it

even tho jisung doesn’t voice his thoughts, something is always going on with that boy

you made your way to the said rooftop he referred to, cautiously walking over to him

he set up two beach chairs with a small table filled with both of your favourite snacks

you also noticed two telescopes placed in front of the chairs, smiling widely to yourself

“is this what i think it is?”

“yes! we’re stargazing tonight! i know how much you’ve been wanting to do so”

you sat down next to him, taking your own telescope in your hands

you couldn’t believe he organised this date, from the fairy lights around the railing of the rooftop to the soft r&b playlist playing in the background

it was perfect

jisung couldn’t take his eyes off you, too eager to determine if you truly liked the idea

when your eyes met, you couldn’t help but lean closer to him

jisung didn’t pull away, smirking to himself before suddenly pecking your lips

jisung also wasn’t usually the one to initiate affection, so this was just another surprise you could never get over

you both giggled, pointing out the different constellations you could make out

you chatted about random things, from video games to school, to when jaemin yelled at chenle’s s/o for making chocolate covered strawberries

everything felt at ease when you were with jisung

he knew you didn’t want such a big fuss for valentine’s day, but you could have never suspected he’d do this all for you

“thankyou for all of this”

“anything for my baby”

and in that moment, you knew, you were falling inlove with park jisung.

#nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #nct dream scenarios #nct imagines #nct writing #nct fic #nct dream reactions #jisungsmochiimagines #jisungsmochi masterlist

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