#she only wants to dress pretty and see the fairies only why must the world be so cruel to her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

laurasimonsdaughter · 3 years

Text

The Counterfeit Marquise

A literary fairy tale published in 1697, presumably by Charles Perrault and François-Timoléon De Choisy (who spent a considerable amount of his life in drag, just like the protagonists of this story).

Translated by Ranjit Bolt, featured in Warner’s Wonder tales: six stories of enchantment (1996).

Cw: gender disphoria.

The Marquis de Banneville had been married barely six months to a beautiful and highly intelligent young heiress when he was killed in battle at Saint-Denis. His widow was profoundly affected. They had still been very much in love and no domestic quarrels had disturbed their happiness. She did not allow herself an excess of grief. With none of the usual lamentations, she withdrew to one of her country houses to weep at her leisure, without constraint or ostentation. But no sooner had she arrived than it was pointed out to her, on the basis of irrefutable evidence, that she was carrying a child. At first she rejoiced at the prospect of seeing a little replica of the man she had loved so much. She was careful to preserve her husband’s precious remains, and took every possible step to keep his memory alive. Her pregnancy was very easy, but as her time drew near she was tormented by a host of anxieties. She pictured a soldier’s gruesome death in its full horror. She imagined the same fate for the child she was expecting and, unable to reconcile herself to such a distressing idea, prayed a thousand times to heaven to send her a daughter who, by virtue of her sex, would be spared so cruel a fate. She did more: she made up her mind that, if nature did not answer her wishes, she would correct her. She took all the necessary precautions and made the midwife promise to announce to the world the birth of a girl, even if it was a boy.

Thanks to these measures the business was effected smoothly. Money settles everything. The marquise was absolute mistress in her château and word soon spread that she had given birth to a girl, though the child was actually a boy. It was taken to the curé who, in good faith, christened it Marianne. The wet nurse was also won over. She brought little Marianne up and subsequently became her governess. She was taught everything a girl of noble birth should know: dancing; music; the harpsichord. She grasped everything with such precocity her mother had no choice but to have her taught languages, history, even modern philosophy. There was no danger of so many subjects becoming confused in a mind where everything was arranged with such remarkable orderliness. And what was extraordinary, not to say delightful, was that so fine a mind should be found in the body of an angel. At twelve her figure was already formed. True, she had been a little constricted from infancy with an iron corset, to widen her hips and lift her bosom. But this had been a complete success and (though I shall not describe her until her first journey to Paris) she was already a very beautiful girl. She lived in blissful ignorance, quite unaware that she was not a girl. She was known in the province as la belle Marianne. All the minor gentry roundabout came to pay court to her, believing she was a rich heiress. She listened to them all and answered their gallantries with great wit and frankness. My heart, she said to her mother one day, isn’t made for provincials. If I receive them kindly it’s because I want to please people.

Be careful, my child, said the marquise: you’re talking like a coquette.

Ah, maman, she answered, let them come. Let them love me as much as they like. Why should you worry as long as I don’t love them?

The marquise was delighted to hear this, and gave her complete licence with these young men who, in any case, never strayed beyond the bounds of decorum. She knew the truth and so feared no consequences. La belle Marianne would study till noon and spend the rest of the day at her toilette.

After devoting the whole morning to my mind, she would say gaily, It’s only right to give the afternoon to my eyes, my mouth, all this little body of mine.

Indeed, she did not begin dressing till four. Her suitors would usually have gathered by then, and would take pleasure in watching her toilette. Her chambermaids would do her hair, but she would always add some new embellishment herself. Her blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders in great curls. The fire in her eyes and the freshness of her complexion were quite dazzling, and all this beauty was animated and enhanced by the thousand charming remarks that poured continually from the prettiest mouth in the world. All the young men around her adored her, nor did she miss any opportunity to increase that adoration. She would herself, with exquisite grace, put pendants in her ears – either of pearls, rubies or diamonds – all of which suited her to perfection. She wore beauty spots, preferably so tiny that one could barely see them with the naked eye and, if her complexion had not been so delicate and fine, could not have seen them at all. When putting them on she made a great show of consulting now one suitor, now another, as to which would suit her best. Her mother was overjoyed and kept congratulating herself on her ingenuity. He is twelve years old, she would say to herself under her breath. Soon I should have had to think about sending him to the Military Academy, and in two years he would have followed his poor father. Whereupon, transported with affection, she would go and kiss her darling daughter, and would let her indulge in all the coquetries that she would have condemned in anyone else’s child.

This is how matters stood when the Marquise de Banneville was obliged to go to Paris to deal with a lawsuit that one of her neighbours had taken out against her. Naturally she took her daughter with her, and soon realised that a pretty young girl can be useful when it comes to making petitions. The first person she went to see was her old friend the Comtesse d’Alettef,11 to ask for her advice and her protection for her daughter. The comtesse was struck by Marianne’s beauty and so enjoyed kissing her that she did so several times. She took on herself the task of chaperoning her, and looked after her when her mother was busy with her suit, promising to keep her amused. Marianne could not have fallen into better hands. The comtesse was born to enjoy life. She had managed to separate herself from an inconvenient husband. Not that he lacked qualities (he loved pleasure as much as she did) but since they could not agree in their choice of pleasures, they had the good sense not to get in one another’s way and each followed their own inclinations. The comtesse, though not young any more, was beautiful. But the desire for lovers had given way to the desire for money, and gambling was now her chief passion. She took Marianne everywhere, and everywhere she was received with delight.

Meanwhile, the Marquise de Banneville slept easily. She was well aware of the comtesse’s somewhat dubious reputation, and would never have trusted her with a real daughter. But quite apart from the fact that Marianne had been brought up with a strong sense of virtue, the marquise wanted a little amusement and so left her to her own devices, merely telling her that she was entering a scene very different from that of the provinces; that she would encounter passionate, devoted lovers at every turn; that she must not believe them too readily; that if she felt herself giving way she was to come and tell her everything; and that in future she would look on her as a friend rather than a daughter, and give her such advice as she herself might take.

Marianne, whom people were starting to call the little marquise, promised her mother that she would disclose all her feelings to her and, relying on past experience, believed herself a match for the gallantry of the French court. This was a bold undertaking thirty years ago. Magnificent dresses were made for her; all the newest fashions tried on her. The comtesse, who presided over all this, saw to it that her hair was dressed by Mlle de Canillac. She had only some child’s earrings and a few jewels; her mother gave her all hers, which were of poor workmanship, and managed at relatively little expense to have two pairs of diamond pendants made for her ears, and five or six crisping pins for her hair. These were all the ornaments she needed. The comtesse would send her carriage for her immediately after dinner and take her to the theatre, the opera, or the gaming houses. She was universally admired. Wives and daughters never tired of caressing her, and the loveliest of them heard her beauty praised without a hint of jealousy. A certain hidden charm, which they felt but did not understand, attracted them to her and forced them to pay homage where homage was due. Everyone succumbed to her spell and her wit, which was even more irresistible than her beauty, won her more certain and lasting conquests. The first thing that captivated them was the dazzling whiteness of her complexion. The bloom in her cheeks, forever appearing and reappearing, never ceased to amaze them. Her eyes were blue and as lively as one could wish; they flashed from beneath two heavy lids that made their glances more tender and languishing. Her face was oval-shaped and her scarlet lips, which protruded slightly, would break – even when she spoke with the utmost seriousness – into a dozen delightful creases, and into a dozen even more delightful when she laughed. This exterior – so charming in itself – was enhanced by all that a good education can add to an excellent nature. There was a radiance, a modesty in the little marquise’s countenance that inspired respect. She had a sense of occasion: she always wore a cap when she went to church, never a beauty spot – avoiding the ostentation cultivated by most women. At Mass, she would say, One prays to God; at balls one dances; and one must do both with total commitment.

She had been leading a most agreeable life for three months when Carnival came round. All the princes and officers had returned from camp, and everywhere entertainments were being held again. Everyone was giving parties and there was a great ball at the Palais Royal. The comtesse, who was too old to show her face on such occasions, decided to go masked and took the little marquise with her. She was dressed as a shepherdess in an extremely simple but becoming costume. Her hair, which hung down to her waist, was tied up in great curls with pink ribbons – no pearls, no diamonds, only a beautiful cap. She had dressed herself, but even so all eyes were fixed on her. That night her beauty was triumphant.

The handsome Prince Sionad was there, dressed as a woman – a rival to the fair sex who, in the opinion of connoisseurs, took first prize for beauty. On arriving at the ball the comtesse decided to go and sit behind the lovely Sionad. Chère princesse, she said as she drew near and introduced the little marquise, here is a young shepherdess you should find worth looking at. Marianne approached respectfully and wanted to kiss the hem of the prince’s dress (or should I say the princess’s) but he lifted her up, embraced her tenderly and cried delightedly: What a lovely girl! What fine features! What a smile! What delicacy! And if I’m not mistaken, she is as clever as she is beautiful.

The little marquise had responded only with a bashful smile when a young prince came up and claimed her for a dance. At first all eyes were fixed on him, owing to his rank. But when people saw her answering his questions without awkwardness or embarrassment; saw what a feel she had for the music; how gracefully she moved; her little jumps in time; her smiles, subtle without being malicious and the fresh glow that vigorous exercise brought to her face, total silence, as at a concert, descended on the hall. The violinists found to their delight that they could hear themselves play, and everyone seemed intent on watching and wondering at her. The dance ended with applause, little of it for the prince, popular though he was.

The acclaim that the little marquise had received at the Palais Royal ball greatly increased the comtesse’s affection and concern for her. She could no longer do without her and she offered her rooms in her house, so that she could enjoy her company at her leisure. But on no account would her mother agree to this. The little marquise was almost fourteen and, if the secret of her birth was to be kept, it was vital that no one should be on intimate terms with her except her governess, who got her up and saw her into bed. She was still quite ignorant of her situation and, though she had many admirers, felt nothing for them. She cared for nothing and no one but herself and her appearance. People spoke to her of nothing else. She drank down this delicious praise in long draughts and thought herself the most beautiful person in the world; the more so since her mirror swore to her every day that the praise was justified.

One day she was at the theatre, in the first tier, when she noticed a beautiful young man in the next box. He wore a scarlet doublet embroidered with gold and silver, but what fascinated her were his dazzling diamond earrings and three or four beauty spots. She watched him intently and found his countenance so sweet and amiable that she could not contain herself, and said to the comtesse: Madame, look at that young man! Isn’t he handsome! Indeed, said the comtesse, but he is too conscious of his looks, and that is not becoming in a man. He might as well dress as a girl.

The performance went on and they said nothing more, but the little marquise often turned her head, no longer able to concentrate on the play, which was The Feign’d Alcibiades. Some days later she was at the theatre again in the third tier. The same young man, who drew such attention to himself with his extraordinary adornments, was in the second tier. He watched the little marquise at his leisure, as fascinated by her as she had been by him on the previous occasion, but less restrained. He kept turning his back on the actors, unable to take his eyes off her and she, for her part, responded in a manner less than consistent with the dictates of modesty. She felt in this exchange of looks something she had never experienced before: a certain joy at once subtle and profound, which passes from the eyes to the heart and constitutes the only real happiness in life. At last the play ended and, while they waited for the afterpiece, the beautiful young man left his box and went to ask the little marquise’s name. The porters, who saw her often, were happy to oblige him; they even told him where she lived. He now saw that she was of noble birth and decided, if possible, to make her acquaintance, even if he went no further. He resolved (love being ingenious) to enter her box by accident.

Ah, madame, he cried, I beg your pardon: I thought this was my box. The Marquise de Banneville loved intrigue and made the most of this one. Monsieur, she said to him with great frankness, we are indeed fortunate in your mistake: a man as handsome as you is welcome anywhere.

She hoped in this way to detain him so that she could look at him at her leisure; examine him and his adornments; please her daughter (whose feelings she had already detected) and, in a word, have some harmless amusement. He hesitated before deciding to remain in the box without taking a seat at the front. They asked him a hundred questions, to which he replied very wittily. His manner and tone of voice had an undeniable charm. The little marquise asked him why he wore pendants in his ears. He replied that he always had: his ears had been pierced when he was a child. As for the rest, they must excuse these little embellishments, normally only suitable for the fair sex, on the grounds of youth.

Everything suits you, monsieur, said the little marquise with a blush. You can wear beauty spots and bracelets as far as we’re concerned. You wouldn’t be the first. These days young men are always doing themselves up like girls. The conversation never flagged. When the afterpiece was over he conducted the ladies to their coach and had his follow it as far as the marquise’s house where, not daring to enter, he sent a page to present his compliments.

During the days that followed they saw him everywhere: in church; in the park; at the opera and the theatre. He was always unassuming, always respectful. He would bow low to the little marquise, not daring to approach or speak to her. He seemed to have but one object, and wasted no time in attaining it. Finally, after three weeks, the Marquise de Banneville’s brother (who was a state councillor) called and suggested that she receive a visitor – his good friend and neighbour, the Marquis de Bercour. He assured her that he was an excellent man and brought him round immediately after lunch. The marquis was the handsomest man in the world; his hair was black and arranged in thick, natural-looking curls. It was cut in line with the ears so that his diamond earrings could be seen. On this particular day he had attached to each of these a pearl. He also wore two or three beauty spots (no more) to emphasise his fine complexion.

Ah, brother, said the marquise, is this the Marquis de Bercour? Yes, madame, replied the marquis, and he cannot live any longer without seeing the loveliest girl in the world.

As he said this he turned towards the little marquise, who was beside herself with joy. They sat and talked, exchanging news, discussing amusements and new books. The little marquise was a versatile conversationalist, and they were soon at ease with one another. The old councillor was the first to leave, the marquis the last, having remained as long as he felt he could.

After this he never missed an opportunity of paying court to the girl he loved, and always made sure that everything was perfect. When the good weather came and they went out walking to Vincennes or in the Bois, they would find a magnificent collation, which seemed to have been brought there by magic, at a place specially chosen in the shade of some trees. One day there would be violins; the next oboes. The marquis had apparently given no instructions, yet it was obvious that he had arranged everything. Nevertheless, it took several days to guess who had given the little marquise a magnificent present. One morning a carrier brought a chest to her house which he said was from the Comtesse Alettef. She opened it eagerly and was delighted to find in it gloves, scents, pomades, perfumed oils, gold boxes, little toilet cases, more than a dozen snuff boxes in different styles, and countless other treasures. The little marquise wanted to thank the comtesse, who had no idea what she was talking about. She found out in the end, but reproached herself more than once for not having guessed at once.

These little attentions advanced the marquis’s cause considerably. The little marquise greatly appreciated them. Madame, she said to her mother with admirable honesty, I no longer know where I am. Once I wanted to be beautiful in everyone’s eyes; now the only person I want to find me beautiful is the marquis. I used to love balls, plays, receptions, places where there was a lot of noise. Now I’m tired of all that. My only pleasure in life is to be alone and think about the man I love. He’s coming soon, I whisper to myself. Perhaps he’ll tell me he loves me. Yes, madame, he hasn’t said that yet; hasn’t spoken those wonderful words: I love you, though his eyes and his actions have told me so a hundred times. Then, my child, replied the marquise, I’m very sorry for you. You were happy before you saw the marquis. You enjoyed everyone’s company; everyone loved you and you loved only yourself, your own person, your beauty. You were wholly consumed with the desire to please, and please you did. Why change such a delightful life? Take my advice, my dear child: let your sole concern be to profit from the advantages nature has given you. Be beautiful: you have experienced that joy; is there any other to touch it? To draw everyone’s gaze; to win all hearts; to delight people wherever one goes; to hear oneself praised continually, and not by flatterers; to be loved by all and love only oneself: that, my child, is the height of happiness, and you can enjoy it for a long time. You are a queen, don’t make yourself a slave: you must resist at the outset a passion that is carrying you away in spite of yourself. Now you command, but soon you will obey. Men are fickle: the marquis loves you today – tomorrow he will love someone else.

Stop loving me! said the little marquise. Love someone else! And she burst into tears.

Her mother, who loved her dearly, tried to console her and succeeded by telling her that the marquis was coming. There was a lot at stake and this incipient passion caused her considerable alarm. Where will it lead? she asked herself. To what bizarre conclusion. If the marquis declares himself – if he plucks up courage and asks for certain favours – she will refuse him nothing. But then, she reflected, the little marquise has been well trained; she is sensible; at most she will grant such trifling favours as will leave them in ignorance – an ignorance essential to their happiness.

They were talking like this when someone came to tell them that the marquis had sent them a dozen partridges, and that he was at the door, not daring to enter as he had just returned from hunting.

Send him in! cried the little marquise. We want to see him in his hunting clothes. He entered a moment later, all apologies for powder marks, sun burn and a dishevelled wig. No, no, said the little marquise. I assure you, we like you better dressed informally like this than in all your finery. If that is so, madame, he replied, next time you will see me dressed as a stoker.

He remained standing, as though about to leave. They made him sit and the marquise, kind soul, told them to sit together while she went to her study to write. The chambermaids knew what was what and withdrew to the dressing-room, leaving the lovers alone together. They were silent for a while. The little marquise, still flustered after her talk with her mother, scarcely dared raise her eyes, and the marquis, even more embarrassed, looked at her and sighed. There was something tender in this silence. The looks they exchanged, the sighs they could not contain, were for them a form of language – a language lovers often use – and their mutual embarrassment seemed to them a sign of love. The little marquise was the first to awake from this reverie.

You’re dreaming, marquis, she said. What of? Hunting? Ah, beautiful marquise, said the marquis, how lucky hunters are! They are not in love. What do you mean? she rejoined. Is being in love really so terrible? Madame, he replied, it is the greatest happiness in life. But unrequited love is the greatest misfortune. I am in love and it is not requited. I am in love with the most beautiful girl in the world. Venus herself would not dare put herself before her. I love her and she does not love me. She has no feelings. She sees me, she listens to me, and she remains cruelly silent. She even turns her eyes away from mine. How heartless! How can I doubt my fate? As he spoke these last words, the marquis knelt down before the little marquise and kissed her hands – nor did she object. Her eyes were lowered and let fall great tears.

Beautiful marquise, he said, you’re crying. You’re crying and I know the reason for your tears. My love is irksome to you. Ah, marquis, she answered with a heavy sigh, one can cry for joy as well as pain. I’ve never been so happy. She said no more and, stretching out her arms to her beloved marquis, granted him the favours she would have denied all the kings of the earth. Caresses were all the protestations of love they needed. The marquis found in the little marquise’s lips a compliance that her eyes had hidden from him, and this conversation would have lasted longer if the marquise had not emerged from her study. She found them laughing and crying at the same time, and wondered whether such tears had ever needed drying.

The marquis immediately rose to leave, but the marquise said to him pleasantly: Monsieur, won’t you stay and dine on the partridges you brought? He needed little persuading. What he desired more than anything else in the world was to be on familiar terms in this house. He stayed, even though he was dressed in hunting clothes, and had the exquisite pleasure of seeing the girl he loved eat. It is one of life’s chief delights. To watch at close quarters a pink mouth that, as it opens, reveals gums of coral and teeth of alabaster; that opens and closes with the rapidity that accompanies all the actions of youth; to see a beautiful face animated by an often repeated pleasure, and to be experiencing the same pleasure at the same time – this is a privilege love grants to few.

After that happy day the marquis made sure he dined there every night. It was a regular affair and the little marquise’s suitors, who had had no cause to be jealous of one another, took it as settled. She had made her choice and they all admitted that beauty and vanity, however powerful, are no defence against love. The Comte d’****, one of her most ardent admirers, had a keen sense that his passion was being made light of. He was handsome, well built, brave, a soldier: he could not allow the little marquise to give herself to the Marquis de Bercour, whom he considered vastly inferior in every respect to himself. He decided to pick a quarrel with him and so disgrace him, thinking him too effeminate to dare cross swords with him. However, to his great surprise, at the first word he uttered when they met at the Porte des Tuileries, the marquis drew his sword and thrust at him with gusto. After a hard-fought duel they were parted by mutual friends.

This adventure pleased the little marquise. It gave her lover a war-like air, though she trembled for him nevertheless. She saw clearly that her beauty and her preference for him would constantly be exposing him to such encounters, and she said to him one day: Marquis, we must put an end to jealousy once and for all; we must silence gossip. We love one another and always will. We must bind ourselves to one another with ties that only death can break.

Ah, beautiful marquise, he said, what are you thinking of? Does our happiness bore you? Marriage, as a rule, puts an end to pleasure. Let us remain as we are. For my part, I am content with your favours and will never ask you for anything more. But I am not content, said the little marquise. I can see clearly that there is something missing in our happiness, and perhaps we will find it when you belong to me entirely, and I to you. It would not be right, replied the marquis, for you to throw in your lot with a younger son who has spent the bulk of his fortune and whom you still know only by appearances, which are often deceptive.

But that’s just what I love about it, she interrupted. I’m so happy that I have enough money for us both, and to have the chance of showing you that I love you and you alone.

They had reached this point when the Marquise de Banneville interrupted them. She had been closeted with her agents, and thought she would refresh herself with some lively young company, but she found them in a deeply serious mood. The marquis had been greatly put out by the little marquise’s proposal. Ostensibly it was very much to his advantage, but he had secret objections to it, which he considered insurmountable. The little marquise, for her part, was a little annoyed at having taken such a bold step in vain, but she soon recovered, deciding that the marquis had refused out of respect for her – or that he wished to prove the depth of his feelings for her. This thought made her decide to speak to her mother about it, and she did so the following day.

No one was ever more astonished than the Marquise de Banneville when her daughter spoke to her of marriage. She was sixteen and no longer a child. Her eyes had not been opened to her situation, and her mother hoped they never would be. She was careful not to agree to the match, but to reveal the truth would have been a painful solution both for her daughter and the marquis. She resolved to do so only as a last resort. Meanwhile she would prevent, or at least postpone, the marriage. The marquis was in agreement with her on this, but the little marquise – passionate creature that she was – begged, entreated, wept, used every means to persuade her mother. She never doubted her lover, since he did not dare oppose her with the same firmness. Finally she pushed her mother to the point where she said these words to her: My dear child, you leave me no choice: against my better judgement I must reveal to you something that I would have given my life to conceal from you. I loved your poor father and when I lost him so tragically, in dread of your meeting the same fate, I prayed with all my heart for a daughter. I was not so fortunate: I gave birth to a son and I have brought him up as a daughter. His sweetness, his inclinations, his beauty, all assisted my plan. I have a son and the whole world believes I have a daughter. Ah, madame! cried the little marquise, is it possible that I …? Yes, my child, said her mother embracing her, you are a boy. I can see how painful this news must be for you. Habit has given you a different nature. You are used to a life very different from the one you might have led. I wanted you to be happy and would never have revealed the sad truth to you if your obstinacy over the marquis had not forced me to. You see now what you were about to do? How, but for me, you would have exposed yourself to public ridicule?

The little marquise did not answer. Instead she merely wept and in vain her mother said to her: But my child, go on living as you were. Be the beautiful little marquise still – loved, adored by all who see her. Love your beautiful marquis if you like, but do not think of marrying him. Alas! cried the little marquise through her tears, he has asked for nothing more. He flies into a rage when I mention marriage. Ah! Could it be that he knows my secret? If I thought that, dear mother, I would go and hide myself in the furthest corner of the earth. Could he know it? In floods of tears now, she added: Alas, poor little marquise, what will you do? Will you dare show your face again and act the beauty? But what have you said? What have you done? What name can one give the favours you have granted the marquis? Blush! Blush, unhappy girl! Ah, nature you are blind: why did you not warn me of my duty? Alas! I acted in good faith, but now I see the truth and I must behave quite differently in future. I must not think about the man I love – I must do what is right.

She was uttering these words with determination when it was announced that the marquis was at the door of the antechamber. He entered with a happy air and was amazed to see both mother and daughter with lowered eyes and in tears. The mother did not wait for him to speak but rose and went to her room. He took courage and said: What’s the matter, beautiful marquise? If something is distressing you, won’t you share it with your friends? What? You won’t even look at me! Am I the cause of this weeping? Am I to blame without knowing it?

The little marquise dissolved in tears. No! No! she cried. No! That could never be, and if it were so I would not feel as I do. Nature is wise and there is a reason for everything she does.

The marquis had no idea what all this meant. He was asking for an explanation when the marquise, who had recovered a little, left her room and came to her daughter’s aid. Look at her, she said to the marquis. As you see, she is quite beside herself. I am to blame. I tried to stop her but she would have her fortune told, and they said she would never marry the man she loved. That has upset her, Monsieur le Marquis, and you know why.

For my part, madame, he replied, I am not at all upset. Let her remain always as she is. I ask only to see her. I shall be more than happy if she will consider me her best friend.

With this the conversation ended. Emotions had been stirred, and would take time to settle. But they settled so completely that after eight days there was no sign of any upheaval. The marquis’s presence, his charm, his caresses, obliterated from the little marquise’s mind everything her mother had told her. She no longer believed any of it, or rather did not wish to believe. Pleasure triumphed over reflection. She lived as she had done before with her lover and felt her passion increase with such violence that thoughts of a lasting union returned to torment her. Yes, she said to herself, he cannot go back on his word now. He will never desert me. She had resolved to speak of it again, when her mother fell ill. Her illness was so grave that after three days all hope of a cure was abandoned. She made her will and sent for her brother, the councillor, whom she appointed the little marquise’s guardian. He was her uncle and her heir, since all the property came from the mother. She confided to him the truth about her daughter’s birth, begging him to take it seriously and to let her lead a life of innocent pleasure that would harm no one and which, since it precluded her marrying, would guarantee his children a rich inheritance.

The good councillor was delighted at this news and saw his sister die without shedding a tear. The income of thirty thousand francs that she left the little marquise seemed certain to pass to his children, and he had only to encourage his niece’s infatuation for the marquis. He did so with great success, telling her that he would be like a father to her and had no wish to be her guardian except in name.

This sympathetic behaviour consoled the little marquise somewhat – and she was certainly distraught – but the sight of her beloved marquis consoled her even more. She saw that she was absolute mistress of her fate, and her sole aim was to share it with the man she loved. Six months of official mourning passed, after which pleasures of all kinds once again filled her life. She went often to balls, the theatre, the opera, and always in the same company. The marquis never left her side and all her other suitors, seeing that it was a settled affair, had withdrawn. They lived happily and would perhaps have thought of nothing else, if malicious tongues could have left them in peace. Everywhere, people were saying that, while the little marquise was beautiful, since her mother’s death she had lost all sense of decorum: she was seen everywhere with the marquis; he was practically living in her house; he dined there every day and never left before midnight. Her best friends found grounds for censure in this: they sent her anonymous letters and warned her uncle, who spoke to her about it. Finally, things went so far that the little marquise went back to her first idea and decided to marry the marquis. She put this to him forcefully; he resisted likewise, only agreeing on condition that the marriage would be a purely public affair, and that they would live together like brother and sister. This, he said, was how they must always love one another. The little marquise readily agreed. She often remembered what her mother had told her. She spoke of it to her uncle, who began by outlining all the pitfalls of marriage and ended by giving his consent. He saw that, by this means, the income of thirty thousand francs was sure to pass to his family. There was no danger of his niece having children by the Marquis de Bercour whereas, if she did not marry him, her notion that she was a girl might change with time and with her beauty, which was sure to fade. So a wedding day was fixed on, bridal clothes made and the ceremony held at the good uncle’s house. (As guardian he undertook to give the wedding feast.)

The little marquise had never looked as beautiful as she did that day. She wore a dress of black velours completely covered in gems, pink ribbons in her hair and diamond pendants in her ears. The Comtesse d’Alettef, who would always love her, went with her to the church, where the marquis was waiting. He wore a black velours cloak decked with gold braid, his hair was in curls, his face powdered, there were diamond pendants in his ears and beauty spots on his face. In short, he was adorned in such a way that his best friends could not excuse such vanity. The couple were united for ever and everyone showered them with blessings. The banquet was magnificent, the king’s music and the violons were there. At last the hour came and relatives and friends put the couple together in a nuptial bed and embraced them, the men laughing, a few good old aunts weeping.

It was then that the little marquise was astonished to find how cold and insensitive her lover was. He stayed at one end of the bed, sighing and weeping. She approached him tentatively. He did not seem to notice her. Finally, no longer able to endure so painful a state of affairs, she said: What have I done to you, marquis? Don’t you love me any more? Answer me or I shall die, and it will be your fault.

Alas, madame, said the marquis, didn’t I tell you? We were living together happily – you loved me – and now you will hate me. I have deceived you. Come here and see.

So saying he took her hand and placed it on the most beautiful bosom in the world. You see, he said, dissolving in tears, you see I am useless to you: I am a woman like you.

Who could describe here the little marquise’s surprise and delight? At this moment she had no doubt that she was a boy and, throwing herself into the arms of her beloved marquis, she gave him the same surprise, the same delight. They soon made their peace, wondered at their fate – a fate that had brought matters on to such a happy conclusion – and exchanged a thousand vows of undying love.

As for me, said the little marquise, I am too used to being a girl, and I want to remain one all my life. How could I bring myself to wear a man’s hat?

And I, said the marquis, have used a sword more than once without disgracing myself. I’ll tell you about my adventures some day. Let’s continue as we are, then. Beautiful marquise, enjoy all the pleasures of your sex, and I shall enjoy all the freedom of mine.

The day after the wedding they received the usual compliments and, eight days later, left for the provinces, where they still live in one of their châteaux. The uncle should visit them there: he would find, to his surprise, that a beautiful child has resulted from their marriage – one to put paid to his hopes of a rich inheritance.

#Charles Perrault #François-Timoléon De Choisy #genderqueer folktales #trans representation #laura retells #except not really it's more like laura copy pastes this time

173 notes · View notes

youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

Text

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

122 notes · View notes

mehreya · 4 years

Text

seeing the thread

↬ wc: 7.9k

↬ pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader

↬ genre: angst, fluff, soulmate au

↬ summary: in a world where everyone can see their red threads when their soulmate’s near, it seems your soulmate can’t see the thread that runs from your pinky finger to his. at the age of 6, you don’t understand what it means for you.

-- send an ask to be on my gen taglist or fill out my form in navi!!

the very first time you see your red thread is in a playground, at the age of six.

you’re a bubbly little girl, bright smiles and playful laughter. (h/c) hair always wound up in a short little high ponytail; very little deters you.

the playground you’re always keen on visiting is a small public park – a little red sandbox to the side, a set of blue plastic swings in the middle and a tiny pink merry-go-round, complete with little yellow ducklings and white rabbits, is off to one side.

next to it is a seesaw, light brown in color, but painted on with childish scribbles and doodles, depicting fantasies of dragons, knights and princesses, mermaids and fairies, ones that can only exist in a child’s mind.

none of these are your favorite however; no, your favorite, like so many other children, is the colorful plastic sides on the right side of the playground.

there are twisting and winding lime green colored slides, ones that make your tummy twist and turn, but ultimately end with you shrieking in laughter and wiggling your toes as you slide down.

then there’s closed tube slides, a dark purple – your favorite spot to hide is in their comfortable tunnels, wedged in between the slide’s walls. (you always end up stopping the traffic of children, for which you are on the receiving end of all their complaints.)

but your very favorite out of all these slides is the tall, majestic, deep orange slide in the center of them all. you’ve always been warned not to go on that slide, for it is far too fast and too tall for someone of your age and stature.

never one for rules, whenever your mother has her head turned away, you run up the steps leading to the slide, fast as you can; and go sliding down with a loud squeal, little arms waving haphazardly.

your mother jolts every time she hears, but shakes her head fondly; reprimanding you never does any good – you simply never learn.

it’s on a day like this – in the very same little park you always visit, that you catch your first glimpse of the red silken thread from legends of old.

the playground is a little quieter today; a lack of abundance in the numbers of the children that usually gather.

your mother is busy talking to someone on the phone – presumably one of her friends; you can hear her gossiping about someone and their son all the way from the merry-go-round, which is only a few feet away from the bench your mother is sitting on.

apparently, from what you can hear, the son fell in love with someone whose red thread didn’t curl around his little finger; someone who wasn’t his soulmate.

your six-year-old self doesn’t understand why this is such a bad thing – at that point, you’re pretty much clueless about the social workings of the world.

no longer interested in your mother’s rambling, you wander away from her and make your way to your beloved slides, heading to the purple tube slides instead of your usual spot at the tall, orange slides.

the reason you’d chosen to play with the purple slides today is because of the red thread that has supposedly always been curled tightly around your pinky finger; it is visible today and is now trailing up the entrance of the purple tube slide to the left.

entranced, you’d gasped when you saw the deep red thread; wide (e/c) eyes lighting up with wonder. you’d tugged the red string a little, but seeing no response, you’d frowned and instead decided to go search for the thread and the person yourself.

all you knew about the red thread around your finger was from what your mother had told you – that it was a magical thread, and it would lead you to a very special person.

“mommy, how am I going to know they’re a special person?” you’d asked once.

“the red thread on your finger will appear when they’re near you and it will lead to them – the end of the thread will be wrapped around their finger.”

upon seeing your frown – one that said you had many more questions – your mother had laughed softly and gathered you up in her arms.

“you’ll just know, honey. the thread is magical, so it can pass through things, and it can stretch and tangle. but it won’t ever break. you’ll find your soulmate – I promise, hun.”

holding your mother true to her word, you’d decided to follow the thread as soon as you saw it, keeping your left hand out in front of you to prevent the thread from tangling too much as you’d walked toward the slides.

your mother had still been busy on the phone, so you’d neglected to tell her of your latest discovery – scurrying to the slides instead, curiosity and anticipation winning out over the need to tell your mother about your thread.

now crawling inside the dark tubes, knees kissing the plastic, the flat of your hands brace against the plastic floor as you go. curiously, the red thread you can now see hasn’t gotten caught under your knees even once; it disappears sometimes, but always comes back, the red of the thread on the plastic floor highlighting the purple of the slide.

though the thread hasn’t been a problem, the dress you’re wearing certainly has been. you scrunch your nose in annoyance, groaning when your dress catches under your knee for the billionth time.

the only reason you’re wearing this dress is because earlier that day, you’d had to attend a formal event with your mother, who had coaxed you into wearing a pretty little peach-colored dress with pastel light yellow roses lining the hem.

normally, you wouldn’t have minded wearing such a cute dress; but your mother had promised she’d take you to the park today (the very same bait she had used to coax you into wearing the said dress) and on account of that fact, you’d thought wearing a dress would hinder your playing ability.

and you’d been right.

still, it was a little too late to change clothes now; so you huff and pull up your dress, moving forward relentlessly, only stopping when you reach the middle of the tube. the part of the slide you’re in right now is horizontal - the flat before the curve of the slide, where it dips down vertically.

hearing the sound of something scraping against the polymer walls of the slide, you startle when you find you’re not the only one occupying this particular tube.

there is a boy with black hair, wearing the same startled expression you must be wearing; staring right back at you with wide, hazel eyes.

the first thing you think is: his hairstyle looks weird.

the second is not something you think but observe – the connection of the thread.

he backs away cautiously as you crawl near him; but you’re too preoccupied to notice his reaction – too busy focusing on the red thread you can see around his left little finger.

the very same one that leads to your own finger.

so, your six-year-old self concludes, this must be the special person mommy was talking about.

excited to have finally met him, your face breaks out into a huge smile, and the boy’s expression eases up a little at the sight of it.

you go to introduce yourself, but refrain from commenting on his hair (he looks a little shy, and you don’t want to scare your special person off, now do you?)

“i’m (surname) (name)!” you say, still beaming, holding out your left hand in the hopes the boy will finally notice that he and you share the same thread.

so far, he hasn’t even glanced toward it. (you’ve always been a little too observant for a six-year-old. some say it’s a bad thing, some say it’s a good thing; you fare just well.)

he looks off to the side nervously before looking back at you, eyes downturned a little as he says quietly, “uh, kuroo tetsurou, nice to meet you.”

he still hasn’t said anything about the thread, so cocking your head to the side in confusion, you take the plunge and ask, “kuroo-kun, can’t you see the thread?”

he looks up at you in confusion, lips pulled down in what you can guess is nervousness?

“um, what thread?” he asks slowly, looking up at you hesitantly.

you think he’s playing with you; or maybe he’s stupid. you ask again, a little more impatiently.

“the red thread on your finger, silly. look!”

you point aggressively toward his finger, and he looks down, following your gaze.

you wait in anticipation as he squints and does something with his eyes. you feel the urge to giggle at the weird things he’s doing with his eyes, but it is overshadowed by the feelings of anticipation and nervousness swimming in your stomach.

kuroo lifts his head cautiously, eyeing you warily, backing away a few steps.

“there’s nothing there.”

dread and confusion replace anticipation and nervousness.

your own voice softer, you ask, “really? nothing at all?”

he still looks confused, as if you’re talking about a concept so unimaginable he can’t wrap his head around it.

he shakes his head.

you rub your eyes harshly – maybe the lack of light is making you see your thread when it’s not there?

blinking away the shapes that form in the aftermath of the dark behind your eyes, you find the red thread still there, entwined around your pinkie and leading to his.

kuroo is still staring at you warily, as if you’ve grown two heads.

you don’t know what to make of this.

six-year-olds are not equipped for situations like this. this is the exact opposite of what you were expecting.

kuroo’s name rings through the tube slide then, the sound bouncing off of polymer tube walls and echoing through.

he turns and glances back, then bows his head toward you a little, a small smile on his face as he bids you a still somewhat nervous farewell.

you watch him go quietly, then make your own way down the slide. all the while, you are silent, not sure what to make of what had just happened.

it seems your mother is finished talking; she’s gazing off into the distance, a faraway smile on her face.

“mommy.”

at the sound of your voice, she turns, the smile on her face giving way to a weaker one, worried at the look on your face and the quiet tone of your voice.

(her little girl has never been so quiet.)

“sweetie? are you okay??”

“mommy, I saw the thread,” you say, walking up to her almost stiffly; coming to a stop in front of the bench she’s sitting on.

you can no longer see the red thread. your right hand wraps around your left, your right pointer finger rubbing over the now vacant pinkie on your left hand

she tugs you toward her gently, arms holding onto your own, voice gentle.

“honey, that’s great! why...do you look so sad though?”

“he couldn’t see it, mommy. he couldn’t see the thread.”

your mother’s expression falls, and she encapsulates you into her arms tenderly, hugging you tightly. you let her hug you, arms at your side.

(you don’t understand what’s wrong.)

the first time you see your thread is not a particularly fond memory of yours.

the second time you see your red thread is in your first year of university.

it appears in front of you when you go to cheer on your cousin’s varsity volleyball team.

honestly, while this university hadn’t been your first choice, your mother had encouraged you to attend.

her sole reason being that your cousin’s presence graced the walls of the very same university.

bokuto, for as long as you can remember, has always been energetic. he always seemed to be bouncing or jumping or just moving, in any form.

it was no surprise then, when he took up athletics. basketball, football, you name it. but the one he ultimately stuck with had been volleyball.

and as such, during high school, whenever he visited, during summer vacation trips to Shinagawa, you would always end up being dragged into playing volleyball with him.

you’d always deny him initially, wanting to stay inside with your sketchbooks and pencils, and just sketch hot guys off the internet. (solely artistic practice, you’d say.)

but bokuto would be smiling wide, huge owl-like eyes pleading. his grins and laughter were infectious, and so you could never really refuse him.

though you didn’t know the rules well, he’d say it didn’t matter; all you had to do was block his ball from over the net.

your little volleyball games would always end with the two of you sprawled over the grass, underneath the volleyball net and blue skies, eyes closed.

as far as you could remember, all your memories with bokuto were ones that were fond.

so, although you’d pretended to be annoyed at the idea of going to school with your cousin, you’d decided going to tokyo university with bokuto would be fun.

maybe not that fun, you think later, when you find yourself, in your second semester of your first year of university, hauling ass to make it to bokuto’s volleyball match in time, while lugging around his geometry textbook.

he’d forgotten it at your shared apartment earlier that day, although you’d reminded him the night before to put it in his bag.

for someone two years older, and in their second last year before complete adulthood, bokuto was far from the image of an adult.

sighing, you check the phone for the time and quicken your pace when you realize the match is going to start in a few minutes.

apparently, you’re not the only one in a hurry – as you make your way to the large gymnasium to the left side of your university, someone hurries past you, brushing your shoulder and almost making you drop the geometry textbook in the process.

there’s a flash of black and red.

dizziness.

slightly disoriented, though it hadn’t been a very powerful nudge, you pause for a second, clutching the textbook closer, as if that will help you orient yourself.

the guy who’d bumped into you is now miles ahead, but that doesn’t stop you from shouting after him in indignation.

“hey! watch where you’re going!”

all you get in reply is a muffled “sorry!” over his shoulder, and then he’s gone, and the black of his hair disappears, along with the fading of the red.

it takes you a minute to organize your thoughts.

his hair was black, but whatever he was wearing was a deep gray-ish color.

so where did the red come from?

and then the realization hits you.

your red thread.

you stare at your left hand for a good few minutes, but no matter how much you do, the thread does not appear around your pinky finger again.

you snap out of your staring when the sound of a whistle breaks through the silence of the grounds surrounding the gymnasium.

...you’re the only one still standing outside evidently.

you shake your head to collect yourself, (h/c) strands of hair flying about, and then stride into the gymnasium hurriedly, the gloss of wooden floors and the shine of bright lights winking at you.

unfortunately, at this point, there are no seats left at the front, and the only available one you can find is near the back.

ah well. at least you have a seat.

you settle in, making yourself comfortable in the metallic seat, the textbook in your hands falling with a thunk to the side of your seat.

it seems you’ve arrived halfway in to the match, just after half-time.

the game passes by with you watching fixatedly (even with your limited knowledge, the match is beyond intense), and the set point has you at the very edge of your seat.

bokuto is gearing up to spike, and you watch, eyes wide, as he jumps, back arching gracefully as his hand slams down onto the ball, changing the angle of his hand at the last minute.

a cross-shot, you remember him telling you.

the ball practically slams down onto the wooden floor on the other side of the net, and ricochets off the floor in a powerful bounce.

the gymnasium erupts, loud and deafening roars of victory and triumph echoing around.

you are one of the people shouting loudly and jumping up and down, the high of the match and the win taking over you.

you watch bokuto hug his teammates with an excited smile, then make your way out the gym to wait for him, heaving the textbook back into your arms.

soon enough, five minutes later, your phone rings with bokuto’s announcement of his arrival.

you look up and are met with a head of monochrome hair as bokuto catches you in his arms, sweeping you up in his excitement.

infectious.

you laugh loudly along with him.

“you won, you won!!”

“we won!” he grins, setting you down and giving you a high-five.

you hand the textbook off to him as he accepts it sheepishly, “mom and auntie have probably cooked a whole feast for you, so you better not spoil your appetite,” you look at him knowingly, and he groans in good fun.

“how did you know I wanted to go out for snacks?”

you cross your arms smugly, “you may look like the wise one, but I am the wise one.”

he grins again and ruffles your hair.

you’re just about to ask him about akaashi when a flash of black behind him catches your eye.

there’s a group of three guys coming near you slowly, and as you watch them, red appears in your vision.

your soulmate thread has appeared again, it seems.

and it’s leading to the tall, black-haired boy in the middle.

come to think of it, he does look familiar. exactly like the boy you’d met when you were younger. the same wacky hairstyle is still there, too, his hair springing up from one side of his head almost unnaturally.

you’re still staring when he looks up and catches you, his mouth opening slightly in surprise.

you look away immediately, suppressing the warmth rising to your cheeks, and nudge bokuto.

“hey bo, who’s that guy over there?”

“where?”

“the one with the weird-ass hair.”

“oh, kuroo? he’s my teammate, why?”

“...hmm, no reason.”

bokuto wiggles his eyebrows, looking utterly ridiculous as he does.

“is he your sooulmate?”

“...no, his hair looks interesting. for drawing reference, you know.”

thankfully, bokuto doesn’t catch on to the slight hesitation at the beginning of your sentence, but he does do something entirely stupid instead.

“oi, kuroo!”

(you facepalm - I didn’t tell you to call him over, bo.)

“kuroo” strides over, his other two companions lingering behind and watching curiously.

“ohoho, bokuto. what’s up?” he drawls in a laid-back sort of manner, hands in the pockets of his jersey shorts.

his gaze switches from bokuto to you, and he eyes you inquisitively, looking at bokuto for elaboration on your identity, presumably.

it seems he doesn’t remember you.

but then again, you were only six-years-old.

you squash down the slight feelings of disappointment, and smile at him as bokuto introduces you.

“this is (name), she wants to draw your hair!” bokuto grins, slinging an arm around kuroo cheerfully.

...not exactly how you’d put it, but it works.

kuroo blinks in slight surprise, before an easy grin makes its way onto his face.

he runs a hand through his hair, the black, inky strands sticking up as he grins at you, “sure, my hair is a natural work of art, isn’t it?”

“don’t you spend hours each morning trying to gel it?” bokuto murmurs in what he thinks is a discreet manner, but what anyone else would say was a loud whisper.

kuroo jams an elbow into bokuto’s side, still grinning at you as bokuto winces, you watching on in amusement.

someone’s phone rings then, and bokuto whips his out, golden eyes lighting up with excitement and affection.

“akaashi?” both you and kuroo speak at the same time, a knowing undertone lacing your question.

both of you turn to each other in surprise, smiling half parts awkwardly and half parts fondly, because of course akaashi would be the first to call bokuto after his big match.

bokuto smiles widely, holding the phone up to his ear and greeting akaashi while simultaneously hugging kuroo with one arm. he drops a quick kiss on your hair and then bounds away, chattering into the phone excitedly.

“akaashi, I won! we won! can you believe it!? my spike was...”

you and kuroo stare after his retreating figure, and then turn toward each other, you tugging the hem of your shirt, kuroo running a hand through his hair and clearing his throat.

you look up at him just as he’s about to say something, but he’s interrupted before he can voice whatever he’s thinking.

“oi, kuroo! we’re gonna head on downtown then!” one of his friends, the one with a gold streak through his dark hair shouts, while the other with light brown hair waves.

kuroo nods toward them, grinning and holding up a hand in farewell, as you too, smile awkwardly in their direction.

he swivels back to you, the slight evening breeze that had just picked up ruffling his inky hair and making it even more messier.

the fading sunlight highlights the amber flecks in his eyes, and from your spot, not even two feet away, you can count the exact number of amber specks (five).

the red thread tying you together seems to be glowing faintly under the diminishing sunlight.

and then a thought occurs to you.

“hey, aren’t you the guy who bumped into me earlier?” you cross your arms, cocking an eyebrow, a playful smile on your face.

“ah, yeah, sorry about that again. I was in a hurry to get back before halftime was over.” kuroo messes up his hair sheepishly, the inky strands falling in front of his face in the most alluring way.

you can’t help but stare.

“it’s chill, no worries,” you’re still staring; his hair getting ruffled in the breeze is making him look ten times more attractive, and also like a model drawing reference.

“so,” kuroo clears his throat, smiling at you somewhat amusedly, “do you wanna go to a café or something, so you can,” he holds up two fingers each to imitate speech marks, “sketch my hair?”

you glance away awkwardly, smoothing back your hair as you and kuroo start walking away from the gym.

“your hair would be interesting to sketch, but I don’t have anything to sketch with,” you say, shrugging, but then a thought occurs to you, “hold on, does that count as a date?”

“I know you’d want it to be,” kuroo winks, his strides matching yours exactly, despite his superior height.

the red thread between you sways softly, and though you glance toward it now and then, kuroo doesn’t.

at all.

there is no indication that he is able to see. you quell the rising panic that you had stored away for years, and laugh nervously instead.

kuroo walks a little closer, “do you still wanna go to the café anyway? or should I walk you home?”

you say the first thing that comes to mind, some of your nervousness easing up at his reply.

“I like how you’ve made sure to include yourself in both options.”

“I knew you’d like it better that way,” he winks again, and you laugh, shaking your head.

“is that how you get all the ladies?”

“bold of you to assume I have any,” amusement glints in his eyes as he watches you laugh, shoulders shaking.

“dude, you do know you just self-sabotaged yourself, right?”

kuroo shrugs, his arm brushing yours in the process, the heat from it unfamiliar but at the same time, so familiar.

he smiles as he looks sideways at you, amber-hazel eyes warm, “made you laugh, didn’t I?”

you fall silent, only offering up a smile in return.

the red thread becomes shorter as kuroo walks even closer, but it’s still as deep red as ever, glinting almost mockingly in the dying light.

you reach your shared apartment then, and pause, standing in front of it. the university dorms are a little father ahead, just down the street.

the lights in your apartment building are bright, and you shield your eyes slightly as you turn to face kuroo.

“so,” kuroo begins, awkwardly now; a visible contrast from his early suaveness. it’s endearing, watching him with the lightest dusting of pink on his cheeks as his eyes dart in between you and the buildings nervously.

so jarringly different from his earlier smoothness and winking, but it makes him all the more cuter in your eyes.

(how are you already finding him so cute? it’s been only fifty minutes.)

you shift your stance, watching him with mirthful eyes and a patient smile.

he runs his hand through his hair again – it seems to be a nervous habit, you note.

“so, are you and bokuto, you know...” he trails off, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jersey shorts, lifting his varsity jersey slightly so he can do so.

vaguely distracted as you watch him do so, you don’t catch on to his entire question, “sorry, what?”

he glances up and to the side, and then turn back to you determinedly, though there is hesitant nervousness in his amber-hazel orbs.

another contrast; the juxtaposition of his stance and his eyes.

endearing.

he clears his throat, “are you and bokuto dating?”

you stare at him – how on earth did he get that idea?

oh. maybe the hug and the kiss.

yeah, maybe that.

you hurry to clear up the misunderstanding, “no, no, he’s my cousin!”

kuroo snaps his fingers, expression clearing up, “oh, the one he shares an apartment with?”

you nod, and he smiles, “that’s good.”

you raise an eyebrow teasingly but make no comment, and he moves forward quickly, “you should come watch another one of our games.”

those amber-hazel eyes are trained on you, his smile warm.

you surprise yourself with what you say next, but it comes out without much thinking (you’re too focused on his striking gaze), “sure, and then we could go for that café thing?”

his eyes widen a little, and then the corner of his mouth lifts a little more, smiling down at you, amused, “for sure, the café thing.”

you laugh quietly, walking away from him, “yeah, yeah, bye, kuroo.”

you turn to wave at him, and he waves back, watching you go with a smile.

the feeling of his warm gaze lingers as you walk away, and you watch the red thread fade again as he starts walking away.

you enter the building and greet the doorman almost in a daze, making your way to your apartment.

when you enter, bokuto is sitting on the couch and face-timing akaashi as they both type away at their laptops.

you shake out of your daze, coming to a stop in front of him, hands on your hips.

bokuto looks up sheepishly, the black-framed glasses he wears for studying falling down his nose slightly.

“first off,” you start, “you just left me there! second, mom and auntie and the rest said they’ll be here in 20. third, hi, ‘kaashi, how you doing?”

akaashi doesn’t get a chance to greet you back, because bokuto starts speaking immediately, looking at you like he knows something you don’t, “you and kuroo didn’t call me at all though.”

you look off to the side, “that’s irrelevant.”

he makes a face, wiggling his eyebrows as akaashi snorts quietly through the screen. you go to defend yourself, but before you can, bokuto springs up, shock settling on his features, “wait, did you say they’re going to be here in 20 minutes?”

you nod, sighing as you maneuver around the mess of empty bags and plastic cans to the back of the sofa to wave at akaashi.

“shit!” bokuto panics for a minute, flailing his arms around (as if that would solve anything), and then holds his iPad up to his face, “bye, ‘kaashi, gotta go, love ya!”

you barely get in your wave to akaashi and glimpse his fond look of exasperation before bokuto slams the cover of the iPad down, hurriedly jumping off the couch and snatching up his papers and laptop.

he looks toward you pleadingly, some of his papers falling out of his arms, “help me?”

“nope, I already did my part this morning.” you shut him down casually, making your way inside your room and closing your door to the sound of bokuto’s agonized cries as he figures out how to work the vacuum cleaner.

flopping down onto your bed, you put your left arm over your eyes and think.

you let all the feelings that you’d been suppressing rise back to the surface again, and a long, weary sigh escapes you.

kuroo doesn’t know about the thread; he can’t see it and you didn’t tell him.

should you tell him?

you know he’s your soulmate, and in the fifty minutes you’d known him, you’re certain dating him would only come too easy for you.

he seems sweet, funny, playful. essentially the perfect guy.

but, you think, rolling over on your side, did you agree to go on a date with him because of the thread, or because you genuinely liked him apart from that, too?

you rationalize that after so many years of hating the fact that he can’t see the red thread, or sometimes even hating him for not being able to, you wouldn’t have just accepted to go on a date with him if you genuinely didn’t want to.

you know that it was wrong to hate him for something that wasn’t even his fault, and you’d stopped hating him a long time ago; but when you’d been younger, blaming and hating him and his inability to see your thread was the only way you knew to cope with the fact you might be soulmate-less.

at least you know he likes you for you.

in the end, you decide telling him is only the right thing to do – it’s not like it will change anything; your genuine feelings will still be there.

the nagging voice of doubt and fear lingers at the back of your mind – what if, in the time that you’d grown up, kuroo’s thread was attached to another?

after all, you’d never heard of anyone not having a thread, but you had heard of people’s threads connecting to someone who was their soulmate, but they hadn’t been their soulmate’s.

there had been people whose soulmate’s thread lead to someone else.

you didn’t want to find out whether you were one of those people.

but, you reasoned, if he did have a different soulmate, then he would have been able to see their thread, and wouldn’t have asked you out on a date.

(you push away all thoughts of “maybe he hasn’t met his soulmate yet” to the very back of your mind – you think it’s time you were optimistic, for once.)

making up your mind, you snuggle into your bed, resting until your mother and aunt arrive, the sounds of bokuto’s panicked cleaning frenzy fading into the background.

you’d decided you would tell kuroo if your relationship with him progressed to more than a few dates. it seemed like a logical decision, and the uneasiness coiled in your chest relaxed.

everything would be fine.

the very last time you see your soulmate thread is a particularly painful memory.

you’re now in your third year of university, and you and kuroo have been dating for two years.

the café date had transitioned to a movie date, then a park date, a Netflix and chill date, and countless others.

you’d kissed four dates in, and it had been one of the best in your life.

you’d officially become a couple nine dates in, and bokuto had been overjoyed, for lack of better word, at the thought of kuroo being his brother-in-law.

(“we’re gonna be actual bros, man!” bokuto fist-bumped kuroo, who smirked at you teasingly, watching in fond amusement as you choked on your drink at the insinuation of marriage. “bo, it’s been two months! jesus...”

“what, are you saying you don’t want to marry me?” kuroo had pouted at you, feigning hurt. “wait, that’s not what I mean-!” he’d started cackling then, at the blush on your face and the frenzied look in your eyes as you defended yourself. you’d rolled your eyes and smacked him on the arm, “i hate you.”

he’d grinned at you cheekily, amber-hazel eyes mirthful, “love you too, baby.”)

despite all that, you still hadn’t told kuroo about the thread. you just...you just hadn’t found the right time. it was partially an excuse, but also the truth.

every time you’d tried to tell him, something interrupted you, and you ended up chickening out.

all the times you’d tried to tell him had gone a little bit like this:

“hey, tets?” you’d been lying down on the beige couch in your apartment, legs sprawled over kuroo’s as he rested them on the coffee table in front of him.

bokuto had gone on a date with akaashi, and it had been just you and kuroo that afternoon; so you’d decided to have yourselves a little study date.

“yeah?” kuroo had looked over at you curiously, pausing in the midst of his typing.

as soon as you’d started speaking, a loud rumbling sound cut through the peaceful silence that had been surrounding you, and had drained out what you’d been trying to say.

kuroo had shook his head, “construction workers at it again. what were you saying, babe?”

you’d smiled, shaking your head, “can we order indian today?”

you and kuroo had discussed the topic of soulmates and the red thread, of course, one year into your relationship.

that had been the perfect time to tell him.

but kuroo had said that it didn’t really matter to him; he’d never seen his thread and he didn’t put much faith in the idea of soulmates anyway.

you’d faltered; if he seemed fine without one, and you weren’t sure if you were his, would there really be any point in telling him?

while you had been internally conflicting, kuroo had pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, and had told you he was going to shower.

you’d let him go; though you’d wanted to finish the discussion, you didn’t know what to say and he had a class in a few minutes.

now, two years in, you’d decided to hold off on telling him.

you’d spent ages agonizing over this, the red thread whenever you were near tetsurou taunting you with its’ existence constantly. but you hadn’t been able to come to a decision at all, so you’d pushed it to the back of your mind as usual.

(the back of your mind had become a very cluttered place, as a result.)

the buzzing of your phone distracts you; it’s a message from tetsurou, telling you he’d ordered your favorite dish, and to hurry up or he was going to eat it.

smiling at his text, you start typing back, “you’re gonna steal my food anyway.”

too immersed in your phone and his incoming text, you start crossing the street without paying attention.

you’d done it a million times before, and nothing had happened, so it had become sort of a bad habit.

(tetsu always made sure to keep a strong arm around your waist when you crossed streets – you never paid attention.)

this time, though, something does happen. as you’re crossing, you don’t see the out of control car careening on the street to your left.

there’s a loud screech, rubber tires on road, metal against metal, and the exact minute you look up, the car comes crashing into you.

there’s a glare of bright white, and you fly on top of the car’s hood, sliding across and falling on the road painfully.

the phone flies out of your hand.

a loud ringing fills your ears.

there’s something sticky on your head, you register vaguely.

and the last thing you catch a glimpse of, before your vision dims completely, is the red thread that has always been on your left pinky finger, slowly fading with the blurring of your vision.

eyes fluttering open slowly, you wake up to harsh, fluorescent white lights and the smell of disinfectant. blinking a few times to adjust to the light, you realize that you’re lying in a hospital bed.

you’re wearing a light green hospital gown, and your body aches all over.

your right shoulder hurts, and you look at it to see it bandaged up, white covering wrapped around it tightly.

your scalp feels tight too, and you reach up slowly, groaning at the limp feeling in your arm.

there’s gauze wrapped around your head too, underneath your clump of messy (h/c) hair.

you lean back, arm falling to your side, and just stare up at the ceiling for a few minutes.

sound slowly becomes audible as you lie there – like the feeling one gets after chewing bubblegum during turbulence in an airplane; you hadn’t even realized you couldn’t hear.

there’s sounds of city life coming from outside the window to your right, but the curtains are closed, so you can’t tell whether it’s daytime or nighttime.

the sound of soft snores registers, and you look to your left to see a mop of black hair resting in the juncture of folded, tanned arms.

tetsu is snoring softly beside your bed, head turned away from you.

you reach out a hand slowly, before retracting it, not wanting to disturb him.

how long have you been in this hospital...?

what happened...?

you close your eyes and rub your temples slowly, and then you remember the flash of white lights and the sound of rubber tires on gravel.

you’d been in a car accident.

you groan slowly, the splitting headache that had been muted till then growing stronger.

sighing, you snuggle back into the pillows you’d been leaning against, in the hopes that relaxing will make the headache subside.

looking toward tetsurou, you smile a little, watching his head lift and drop back down a little with every breath he takes.

something about this scenario seems wrong to you. it feels like something’s missing.

your eyes drift down to tetsu’s fingers from his left hand resting on his right arm.

and then it hits you.

there’s no red thread.

there’s nothing connecting you to him.

you blink a few times, and rub your eyes wearily.

nothing.

panic starts rising.

you take a deep breath, and shut your eyes, and after counting to ten, open them again.

still nothing.

panic wells up and spills over the well you’d been keeping all your emotions in.

the remaining pain from the car accident, the aching of your limbs, the panic surrounding your missing red thread, the stress from not telling tetsu about it – it all comes spilling out in one big wave.

tears blur your vision, and you put your hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the panicked sobs that are threatening to escape.

maybe your worst fears have been confirmed? you’ve always been able to see the red thread, so there has to be some kind of reason why it’s disappeared now.

your rational thinking is severely compromised right now; instead of thinking logically, your brain is coming up with all the worst-case scenarios that could have caused the thread to disappear.

maybe the red thread has disappeared because tetsu doesn’t love you anymore, maybe your relationship isn’t meant to last more than what it has, or maybe he has another true soulmate-

your cries wake him up.

the bed shifts, and tetsurou sits up, hair mussed, eyes wide, sleep marks imprinted on his face.

for a minute, he just stares at you blankly as you sniff, trying to breathe properly so you can stop crying.

and then the sight of you crying registers, and he springs forward, cradling your face in his hands gently, “shh, baby, why are you crying? does it hurt? should I call someone?”

worried, his amber-hazel eyes are soft and concerned as he thumbs at the wet tear trails on your cheeks, his touch warm.

the concern in his eyes only makes you cry harder, and his face falls even more as he tries to get you to tell him what’s wrong.

and then you can’t hold in any longer; the worry on his face, the stress of your secret, it all pushes you over the edge - you no longer care about keeping your secret; the anxiety of him not being your soulmate far outweighing your need for secrecy.

your hands clutch each other tightly, and you take deep, calming breaths, tetsurou rubbing circles on your cheeks gently.

your loud sobs die down to loud sniffles.

“the thread...it’s, it’s gone-”

tetsurou’s thumbs still in their ministrations and he blinks, confused, “huh?”

tears well up again, and you look down.

“you mean this thread?”

the warmth on your right cheek disappears, and you look up to see tetsurou holding his left hand up, all the fingers curled except the pinkie.

it’s almost funny how you stop crying immediately, hope making its home at the base of your throat.

“what?” you whisper, unable to believe what you think he’s insinuating.

tetsu raises his little finger higher, eyes searching yours, “this red thread from my pinkie to yours?”

you still, eyes widening hopefully, “if you’re joking right now, I swear to God, tetsu-”

he laughs, left hand coming to rest on your cheek again as he gently wipes away your tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“I realized I could see this a few days ago, and I’d been meaning to ask if you’d seen yours, because you never mentioned it-”

he stops in his explanation when tears trace a way down your face again, the salty liquid damp against his thumbs.

“hey,” he croons softly, “why are you crying again?”

laughter bubbles up amidst your tears, and then you’re laughing, tetsurou smiling in equal parts surprise and relief at your change in mood.

you put your right hand over his left, eyes shining, “we really are soulmates!”

“yeah.” he grins, leaning forward to deliver a soft kiss to your forehead, “why didn’t you tell me about the red thread though?”

you look away guiltily, “I was scared. I’d promised myself I’d tell if you if we got past a few dates, but by the time we were a couple, I was in too deep.”

at your admittance, his eyes soften, amber dissolving amongst the hazel.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I thought I might lose you. it was stupid, but I thought I wasn’t your actual soulmate, and that you had someone else.”

heat rises to your cheeks as you mutter, “I didn’t want to share you with someone else...”

you look back at him tentatively to find him smiling at you warmly, as if the words he’s going to say are going to be incredibly romantic.

what comes out though, is this: “I get it,” he says, lifting his hands as he smirks at you, “anyone would want to keep this hot piece of ass for themselves.”

you snort, shaking your head as he rests his hands on your waist, grinning down at you brazenly.

he’s just about to kiss you when the door slams open, and bokuto practically runs in, a worried expression on his face.

tetsurou rolls his eyes, and backs off to let bokuto hug you, “way to make an entrance, bokuto.”

bokuto ignores him for once, surprisingly, scanning over you hurriedly, “(Name), I heard you were hurt, are you okay?? is anything broken?? you were asleep for six hours!”

you jolt, surprised, “six hours?!”

bokuto nods sagely, “we were all so worried. mom and auntie and everyone else are going to be here in a few hours too. ‘kaashi’s coming too.”

you groan, rubbing a hand over your face as tetsurou snickers at you.

looks like you were going to be in for a lot of mothering and coddling. (especially from akaashi)

bokuto peers at you closely as you blink up at him innocently. you’re hoping he won’t notice you’ve been crying; and the odds are stacked in your favor, since bokuto, bless his soul, can be more than a little oblivious.

it seems today is opposite day, because he seesm to notice you’ve been crying almost instantly. he looks toward tetsurou, frowning a little, “bro wth why was she crying?”

tetsu crosses his arms self-assuredly, smirking, “because she was happy to see my face, duh.”

you roll your eyes.

idiot.

bokuto frowns a little more, and tetsurou holds up his hands, “wait, I really had nothing to do with her crying-”

“I’m fine, bo.” you laugh, curling an arm around his.

he grins, perking up immediately, frown disappearing instantaneously.

tetsu rubs his chin, looking at bokuto as if he’s seeing him for the first time, “damn, bro, you’re not as fluffy as you look.”

bokuto puffs up his chest, “you know, bro, a man’s gotta be a man.”

tetsu nods sagely, “bro, I know. 110% agree with you-”

you interrupt their little “bro moment”, tone of voice incredulous, “um, crying person here, if you guys wouldn’t mind passing a tissue...?”

bokuto and tetsurou chuckle as you shake your head fondly, bokuto settling into the chair tetsurou was on as tetsu grabbed the tissue from the table a few feet away.

you shift a little to the left to make space for tetsu, who slips you the tissue and then slides into bed with you, one arm going behind you so you can rest against it comfortably.

you close your eyes as tetsurou kisses your hair, “go to sleep, baby. we’ll be right here.”

bokuto hums loudly in agreement before engaging tetsurou in some sort of discussion about volleyball and beer pong.

oh God, you hoped they wouldn’t combine the two.

sighing fondly, you snuggle into tetsurou’s side, his arm tightening around you comfortably, as he drops yet another kiss onto your hair.

it didn’t matter that you couldn’t see your thread. maybe you couldn’t see it because of the car accident, maybe you couldn’t see it because of other reasons.

you think you would have been fine even without the knowledge of the red thread. looking back on it, you realize you would have ended up telling kuroo at some point, and even with the knowledge that he might not be your soulmate, you’d loved him.

you still do.

so for now it doesn’t matter.

later, you know you and tetsu will talk about this.

but it will be fine.

because you know he’s yours as much as you are his.

659 notes · View notes

metalheddie · 3 years

Text

In Full Bloom

summary: Spencer goes to the flower shop 1 (one) time and falls in love somehow.

tw: mention of medication, Diana's care facility, Diana lashing out mention

word count: 3.9k

a/n: Alright y'all!!! It's finally here! My first ever fic :) I apologize if some of it is a bit clunky or awkward... this is my first time writing and posting anything like this. I hope y'all like this as much as I liked writing it! and this is a Spencer x POC!reader :)

It was early Saturday morning when y/n opened her shop. Unlocking the doors and stepping inside. It was raining pretty heavily, too. She closed her pastel pink umbrella and put it in the basket next to the door. She stopped to take a deep breath, she loved the smell of fresh flowers in the morning. She walked towards the back to turn on her fairy lights and low lighting for her plants and put on her pastel apron with embroidery on the trim. She turned the radio on to the oldies station and Etta James’ Stormy Weather was playing,

Don't know why

There's no sun up in the sky

Stormy weather

Since my man and I ain't together

Keeps raining all of the time...

A perfect song for this morning. Singing to herself, she twirled as she moved towards her supplies, she got to work caring for her flowers and miscellaneous plants around her space.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

A few hours later, a light ting of the bell above the door of the flower shop sounded. Y/n hadn’t looked up from the bonsai she was trimming, as she was too immersed in her work to realize someone had walked in. When she finally looked up, she was surprised to see a tall and handsome stranger staring back at her. In that instant, she felt her heart stop for an eternity. He stood there a bit awkwardly as he waited to be helped. Snapping out of the trance she had previously been in, she walked over to the counter where he was standing.

“Hey there! How can I help you today?”

Her face slightly flushed but it wasn’t so noticeable on her tawny brown skin.

“Hi, um, can you help me find some flowers for- for my mom?”

Y/n noticed that he says this a bit sheepishly, almost as if he’s embarrassed to be getting flowers for his mom. Or maybe he’s just awkward, who’s to say?

“Sure! Is there anything specific you’d like to say with this bouquet?”

“Um, yes...well I just wanted to let her know that I appreciate her and I love her very much. She hasn't been feeling well recently, so I wanted to do this small thing for her just to let her know I’ll always be here…”

Y/n smiled at that. It was always so nice to see a man value his mom so much. It warms her heart.

“Aww, well I'm so sorry that she hasn’t been feeling well. I think that's so sweet of you to do this for her. I get my mom flowers when she’s not feeling well too” y/n says with a smile.

“So,” she says, clapping her hands together softly, “I think the best flowers to get her would be Carnations, pink of course, and daisies!”

Y/n excitedly moves around the counter and beckons him to follow her. He does this with a small smile, admiring how animated she had become.

“Why those specific flowers?” he asks.

“Well,” Y/n started, “Did you know that Carnations symbolize the love for a mother as well as the phrase 'I will never forget you’ ” The daisies mean innocence, motherhood, and purity. That meaning stems from the old Celtic legend. In Norse mythology, it’s known as Freya’s sacred flower. Freya is the goddess of love, beauty, and fertility, so it only makes sense that this would be her flower!” y/n continued excitedly.

The man nodded along in interest, all the while y/n was collecting and arranging the flowers in a lovely bouquet, putting them in a small and tasteful vase. She brought them over to the counter to ring him up, fixing the flowers as she went.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

Spencer’s POV

While on my way to my mom’s care facility, I saw a quaint little flower shop at the corner of the intersection. I decided to stop in and get some flowers for her. She hasn’t been doing well recently… She’s been lashing out at the nurses and is almost always agitated. Hopefully, this small act will remind her of all the love there is in life.

As I pull into the parking lot of the shop I notice the sign, hand-painted with a unique border that reads Fantasy Flower Shoppe. The side of the building is covered with several winding paths of ivy, truly giving it a fairytale cottage feel. The railing up the steps to the entrance has the ivy as well, acting as a guide to the sage green door.

I stepped through the door, mesmerized at the inside of the shop. There were plants and flowers hanging from the ceiling, on wooden tables, in large pots on the ground, and even in a large misty cabinet on the east wall. A small record player radio hybrid was nestled in between a budding avocado tree and a pot of budding bluebells softly playing what I believe to be I’ve Got a Crush on You by Ella Fitzgerald…

I've got a crush on you, sweetie pie

All the day and nighttime, hear me sigh

I’ve never had the least notion

That I could fall with so much emotion…

I looked around the room, searching for someone who could help me, that's when I laid eyes on the most beautiful girl in the world. She had dark, curly hair that fell to her shoulders wrapped in a cream-colored silk bandanna. She wore a cocoa brown dress with a beige long sleeve shirt underneath and an apron with what looks to be hand-embroidered flowers on the hem. I felt as though I was put under her spell as I gazed at her. She hadn’t looked up from her work, being so focused on trimming her bonsai, she hadn’t realized I had walked in.

I let my eyes linger on her a bit longer as I appreciated her focus. She must have felt my eyes on her, for she looked up and met my eyes. I quickly turned away, as to not make her feel uncomfortable, but also to hide the redness rising high on my cheeks. I suddenly realized what I came into the shop for in the first place.

“Hi, um, can you help me find some flowers for- for my mom?” I stuttered out, cursing myself internally for it.

She smiled sweetly and agreed to help me pick out the best flowers for her. She suggested I get Pink Carnations and daisies. I already knew that those would be the best choice, but I loved the sound of her voice. So as an excuse to continue to listen to her, I asked

“Why those specific flowers?”

I watched her eyes light up with a passion I never knew existed and proceeded to tell me the meanings and origins of both flowers.

“-so it only makes sense that this would be her flower!” she said

I nodded along in interest as if I didn’t already know the answer. She became so animated when she talked about the things she cares about. It was refreshing after being in the BAU for this long and witnessing so much hate and sorrow that came with the job. Seeing someone filled with passion and liveliness when it comes to making a career out of their hobbies was a wonderful thing. All this was not to say that I didn’t like being in the BAU. I wouldn’t be able to leave my family there, not now anyway.

Speaking of family, I need to go to the care facility before visiting hours are over.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

Y/n POV

I set the flowers on the counter, tying a silk ribbon around the vase just to add a little flair.

“Alright! That’ll be $10.50.” I said with a smile.

I look up from the register to see him staring at me with a crooked smile. God, he was cute. I wish I was confident enough to ask for his number… Hopefully, I’ll see him again someday. After admiring his features for what seemed like a lifetime, I realized we’ve just been staring at each other since I looked up at him. I start to get a bit insecure. Why has he been staring so long? Is there something on my face? Oh my god is that pesky pimple back?

As y/n was internally freaking out, Spencer on the other hand was basking in her beauty. He couldn’t believe he was standing in the presence of such an ethereal being like her. Her… Oh god. He doesn’t even know her name.

“Um,” y/n stuttered, “Hello? Are you alright?” She lifted her hand to wave it in front of his face to get his attention.

“Oh! I- I- uhh, Sorry about that. I got a bit distracted…” Spencer stumbled over his words like a teenager in love. “What was the total again?” he asked embarrassedly, a blush rising from the bottom of his chest to the tip tops of his ears.

“Oh, um it was $10.50,” she repeated with a newfound shyness, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

Spencer tried not to fumble with his wallet too severely in an effort to save himself any further embarrassment in front of the pretty florist. That plan failed miserably because as soon as he pulled out his cash, several coins flew out of his wallet. He muttered a quick ‘I’m so sorry as he bent down to get them.

What he didn’t notice was y/n bending down to help him. As she collected the few that fell over by the counter and he collected the ones on his side, they both stood up slightly too close together and headbutted each other. It wasn’t hard enough to leave a bruise or bump, but enough to send a shock through both of them.

Y/n stumbled hard enough from the collision and surprise that she almost toppled over. At the last second, the handsome stranger reached out and grabbed her hand, effectively steadying her.

Rubbing her forehead y/n said “I'm so sorry! Are you alright?”

Letting go of her hand, Spencer replied “Oh, no I’m sorry, I didn't even realize you were right there. Is your head ok?” He was genuinely worried if she was ok.

“Oh, I’m fine, no need to worry!” y/n giggled.

Spencer set the money on the counter and put his wallet away. Y/n rang him up and gave him his receipt.

“Oh, wait! Before you go, I wanted to ask if you wanted to add a small card or note…free of charge” y/n said, the last bit a little sheepishly because of what (she hoped) she was implying. Unfortunately for her, Spencer was very dense when it came to flirting, so he didn’t pick up what she meant.

“Really? Thank you…”

y/n grabbed a card with a pretty border and one of her fountain pens. She looked up at him and nodded, waiting for him to start speaking.

“Live the wonderful life that is in you. Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing. I love you, mom. Love, Spencer.”

y/n smiled at that. This was one of the sweetest bouquets she’s ever had the pleasure of putting together, too bad he’ll be gone before she knows it.

“Well Spencer, you're all set! Thank you for stopping in today, I hope to see you again soon,” she says with a smile. Although this encounter was fleeting, she was enamored with him.

“Thank you for all your help. I wouldn't have been able to do this,” he gestured to the vase full of flowers, “without you, um, I’m so sorry I never got your name...”

“Y/n,” she supplied. “and it's no problem! Stop in whenever you'd like!”

With that, he walked out with a small wave and a smile. Y/n sighed happily, knowing that the rest of her day was going to go very well.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

Spencer’s POV

Once I left the shop and was on my way to the care facility, I realized I couldn't stop thinking about her. Like she put me under her spell as soon as I laid my eyes upon her. I want to see her again but it’s not like I get flowers all the time for people… Maybe I should do that, for the sake of the economy and helping out a small business. Also, it makes people feel appreciated, so what's not to like about getting and giving flowers?

By the time I decided that buying flowers for people would be my new gift-giving method, I had arrived at the care facility. I took a deep breath and exited the car. I was nervous to see what kind of day my mom was having. The last time I talked to her nurses, they said she wasn’t doing as well as they had hoped once they put her on new medication. I, of course, still wanted to visit her. She’s my mom, the person that has been there for me always.

After checking in and locating her I greeted her with a smile and a warm hug.

“Oh, Spencer! I’ve missed you so much! I have to tell you about this poem by Jane Austen I read the other day…”

“I can’t wait to hear it, mom.” He said. He was so glad she was having a good day. He wanted to tell her about y/n after she said her piece.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

“ ...and that's why I can never read it again without thinking about Stevie Nicks!” exclaimed Diana.

Spencer was having such a nice time with his mom and he must have lost track of time because when he looked at his watch it was almost the end of visiting hours. It completely slipped his mind to tell his mom about the beautiful girl who runs the flower shop.

“Mom… Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asks, a little out of the blue considering the conversation they were having before.

“Well Spencer, that’s a pretty hard question to answer. I think it all depends on the other person's first impression that they may have had on you before even opening their mouth to speak. Though I’m not sure if I’ve ever experienced that feeling firsthand…” she answered honestly.

Spencer sat there contemplating the advice he was given and said

“I met this girl today… She owns the flower shop just a few minutes away from here. She helped me pick out the flowers I gave you. She was kind and so smart. She knew the meanings of the flowers off the top of her head like it was nothing. Her smile could light up any room and I could tell she was so passionate about her job. I would like to think she would be my first experience of love at first sight…” he rambled hoping he didn’t sound foolish.

Diana looked at him and shook her head lovingly.

“She sounds wonderful, Spencer. Please tell her thank you from me the next time you see her.”

And with that, visiting hours were over and it was time for him to head home.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

The Next Day

The next day Spencer Reid walked into the bullpen with a smile on his face and a pep in his step. He was still a bit giddy from the encounter he had yesterday, playing it over and over in his mind. The perks of having an eidetic memory. Since he works with a bunch of profilers, they were able to analyze his cheerfulness and boil it down to-

“So who’s the special lady?” Derek asked as he walked up to Spencer’s desk with two mugs in his hand, one labeled ‘Spencer Reid’.

Spencer froze, trying to make up a lie to explain his cheerful mood. “I- uh, I was j-just visiting my mom yesterday and she was having a really good day. No other ‘ladies’ in my life, thank you” he said as he snatched his mug from Derek. Tasting it and mentally noting that it needed more sugar.

Derek looked at him and obviously wasn’t convinced, but he dropped it, for now, settling for “Alright pretty boy, if you say so…” he chuckled and walked away, leaving spencer glowing red at his desk.

He folded his arms on his desk and put his head between them to hide his blush. If the day kept going on like this, he might turn into a permanent tomato.

A few hours later, after finishing his paperwork for the case they had finished a few days ago, he headed to Penelope’s office just to visit. In all honesty, she was just as much his best friend as Derek, just in a different way. She always gave him some much-needed positivity in his everyday life, and he will always be forever grateful to her for that.

As she walked into her lair she turned in her swivel chair and greeted him with a happy smile.

“What's Cookin good-lookin?” she teased, hearing from Morgan that something was up with him.

“Ha ha very funny Garcia.” he joked with her internally cursing Morgan for spilling the non-existent beans.

“Sooo…. Who’s the lucky lady that has caught the eye of the wonderful Junior G-Man?” Garcia teased, yet genuinely curious.

“There’s no girl I swear!” he lied through his teeth, and pretty badly at that.

Penelope shot him a look that said “Do not lie to the omnipotent being that is moi, I know all”

Spencer sighed and sat in the other spinny chair in her office and said,

“Yesterday I went to the little flower shop near my moms care facility just to do something nice for her because she hasn't been doing well recently,”

Garcia frowned a little at that and put her hand on his knee, comforting touches are just her thing and he knows that, so he doesn’t push her away, he places his hand on top of hers. He knows how much he cares.

“It was beautiful n there, but what really caught my eye was the girl working there… She was beautiful. She was so kind and she was incredibly smart. Her eyes were like honey in the sun and I’m sure she’s artistic because the sign out front was hand-painted… but all that aside, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.” he continued.

Garcia was practically vibrating in her seat with excitement as he finished. She was just so excited to see him happy.

“Spencer oh my god! She sounds perfect! You need to ask her out like today.” she said while turning to her computer. Spencer has a feeling of what her next question is so he says,

“No, Garcia, I will not tell you her name so you can do a deep dive on her life.” as he side-eyes her. Her face contorted into a pout at his words.

“But Spencer please~, “ she begs. “I can find out all her favorite places so you can take her there for your date!”

“No Garcia… I want to get to know her properly. No FBI intervention. Plus, I want her to take me to her favorite spots because she wants me to, not because I already know what she likes…” he states as he imagines what going on a coffee date with y/n would look like.

“Alright alright fine, but pinky promise that you’ll fill me in on all the details when you eventually take her on a date.” She said while holding her pinky out for him to accept.

“Deal.” he said as he locked pinkies with her.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

As y/n went to start cleaning up for the evening, the light ting of the bell above the shop sounded once more. As tired as she is, she turns and slaps a happy smile on her face

“Hi welcome in! How can I help you today?”

As she turns she sees the handsome man from yesterday, Spencer, if she remembers correctly. He looks even more adorable than before with his sweater vest and all-star chucks. She smiles genuinely now, tucking her curls behind her ears in an attempt to seem more casual.

“Hi again… I um I needed to get some flowers for my friend. She just announced that she’s having another baby and I wanted to congratulate her with something other than future baby items because unfortunately, I have no idea what I would get for her if I went down that route…” he trailed off, stuffing his hands in his pockets and making the Awkward White Person smile, obviously nervous and giving himself away with the rambling.

Y/n was so excited at the news of a baby she immediately got to work.

“Oh my goodness how exciting! Does she know the gender yet?” she asked just so she can accurately style the bouquet.

“Yeah! She’s having a little boy.” He smiles at that and he visibly relaxes. Y/n takes that as a sign that he’s warming up to her a little.

After half an hour of picking out the perfect flowers and placing them into a large vase, y/n finally tied a blue silk ribbon around the neck of it. She added a few finishing touches and voila! Her masterpiece was complete.

All the while Spencer was standing on the other side of the counter watching her work with such adoration in his eyes. He enjoyed watching her work. Adding flair and certain specializations to every bouquet to make them each unique.

After finishing y/n peers to the side of the large vase of flowers to look at Spencer in the eyes. To her surprise, he’s already leaned over and looking at her too. They share a brief moment of admiration of each other before getting embarrassed and looking away like a couple of high school kids.

“So, since this is a gift for a friend, It’ll be on the house…” she says desperately hoping he’ll pick up on the hint this time.

“Oh my god...I - I can’t let you do that. Here,” he takes out his wallet and tries to pull out 35$ in cash.

y/n reaches over and puts her hands over his. “That’s not necessary, really. I don’t mind…” she says this with a warm smile. Just being able to spend these few fleeting moments with him in her shop has brought her so much joy.

“Thank you… That’s so generous of you, but I can’t just let you give me a whole flower arrangement without something in return…” he stalls. “Would you let me take you out for coffee? I know a great spot near the farmers market, and it has a flower booth too…” His hands are trembling a bit but she doesn’t notice because she’s smiling so hard her cheeks are beginning to feel sore.

She nods enthusiastically and says “Yes. Of course, I’ll go out with you.”

She slides him a piece of paper with her number on it and leans over to kiss him on the cheek. He accepts it and flushes so brightly, it rivals that of the sun. They wave goodbye after scheduling their date for Saturday, and y/n could tell that soon this relationship would be in full bloom.

Fin~

tag list:

pls message me if you’d like to be added or removed <3 !!

@ssavanessa22 @boldlyvoid @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @meganskane @ilovespencerreidmarryme @g0lden-cth

#maddies fics <3 #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid au #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x y/n #boldlyreblog

106 notes · View notes

librarianandguardian · 3 years

Text

Just a feeling- Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Pairing : Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Word Count : ~2300

Warnings : Fluff, brief mention of drug use and burns

Music : Un homme - Jérémy Frerot

Author’s note : Getting pretty stressed because of a huge project at school, so I wrote this to blow off some steam ! I also wanted to say that I do not agree with the way some characters are written and treated in this show. I hope I did not perpetuate these errors, and that I got Silva’s personality a bit right at least. Feedback is appreciated, may it be on the story telling or even the grammar. English isn’t my first language. Flahs-backs in italics. Enjoy ! :D

GIF ‘s not mine, and I can’t find the creator.

French First World songs resonate in the Great Hall, she is dancing. Wild and free. Her loosened hairs fly through the wind. She has traded her Specialist armour for a long flowing dress. Her feet are hammering the ground in rhythm. The crowd carries her all over the dancefloor; she twirls and claps her hands following the music.

From an ignored fairy bloodline, her parents considered her a Specialist Legacy. When her mind fairies powers woke up, everything went wrong ; she was always an overwhelmed child. No one could help her everytime she lost control. Nothing but medication: earrings to contain, and pills to attenuate. It wasn't bad. She lived like that her entire life.

Silva is sitting on a plastic chair, leaning on the table by his side, his gaze lingering. She is an exceptional fighter; dance must be a piece of cake and fun judging from her large smile. To be fair, he barely remembered her from their time at Alfea. Farah told him she was three years younger than him and seemed to have a few memories.

« (Y/N) travelled a lot to the First World prior to college. Her parents were emissaries and brought back souvenirs. Rumours said that her room resembled a cave of wonders.

-Ever went there ?»

His friend chuckled.

« Once. It was full of trinkets, books, movies, postal cards too. Ben caught interest in it, especially the giant botanic encyclopaedia throning on her bookshelf. We both agreed after a while that she might be the ray of sunshine of her Specialist promotion. But I guess she was discreet, if you've never heard of her.»

It took some memory searching, but he indeed remembered one thing. A conversation between a bunch of 1st years talking about a secret party displaying famous First World movies. A few hours later, on the training field, (Y/N) battled fiercely. It caught the attention of many students, who gathered around the platform. Curiosity taking the best of him, he had followed the crowd.

« What's that First World song that I love to describe you with ?

-By the light Clairo, is it really necessary ? »

Her opponent mocked her. She rolled her eyes, wielding her sword before choosing her fight stance.

« You son of... Maneater from Nelly Furtado. Now let's fight please.

-Alright doll, eat me up. »

(Y/N) huffed in annoyance. Clairo was a good fighter, but a little bit too flirty. He launched himself at her. The young woman stayed incredibly calm. Dodging to the right, she left him to stumble before hitting his back with the wooden weapon. He fell to the ground with a grunt. A shy smile spread on her features.

Now that he thinks about it, her earring had intrigued him : an ear chain hanging from the top of the cartilage of her ear to her lobe. Each end was composed of a lavendish round lilac crystal. When she lost control recently, those crystals lit up with a blinding light and burned her skin.

« I change the earring every five year. Every year If any several big crises occurred.

-What about your burns ? How did they clean them up ? »

Her left hand ghosted over her intact lobe, while Harvey healed the bruised flesh. Her eyes stared at the floor of the greenhouse. Saul was holding her other hand.

« They... I stuffed myself with pills. Sometimes enough to sleep through an entire day. Within the Solarian force, it was the only way for them to treat me. None of their mind fairies could calm me down. I don't think you realize how much this, she lifted her intertwined hand, helps.»

The soldier chuckles at the memory. His eyes examined his fingers, remembering how she locked hers, as she found an anchor in his mind.

« My best guess ? Your training forged your head to have a certain mindset in crisis.

-Loads of Solarian troupers could have given you that.

-Yeah. I can't really explain it, she laughed shyly, maybe because you're a teacher, that two of your long time friends are fairies or just because you're good with people.»

Their gazes crossed. The air thickened. Truth to be told, (Y/N) was so lost upon why he managed to calm her down. Farah tried to guide her, but even then, nothing positive came out. Her youth as a student at Alfea only consisted in shared side glances with him in hallways. She sure as hell found the man attractive, but she had other stuff to think about.

A loud giggle snaps him back to reality. (Y/N) falls on his laps while trying to take off her high heels. Her eyes are opened wide and a little glassy. She's definitely drunk.

« Oh by the light, I'm sorry Silva. Aimed at the table ! »

The atmosphere becomes lighter. He catches her when she nearly trips off by trying to get up, one of his arms snaking around to help. Steadying herself on his laps, she catches her breath slowly, though some giggles erupt as she looks around.

« How can you still dance, uh ?»

With a guilty smile, she leans slightly against the table.

« Alcohol ! It's the only thing keeping me up, baby !»

Instant regret shoots through her veins. Some red creeps up on her cheeks, as her hands cover her mouth. The soldier chuckles, enamoured by her adorableness. One thing that strucked him when they met was her lightness. Out of all the solarian troupers out there, or even all the specialists he ever crossed paths with, she was one of the few who stayed so bright and playful. Subconsciously, his fingers dig slightly in her hips.

« It's alright, (Y/L/N).»

She giggles a bit, but thanks him. Farah watches from a far, joined by Ben. (Y/N)(Y/L/N) has been teaching at Alfea for a year now. The entire school seemed to have transformed into a much more joyous place : students got along better, the shyest opened a tad and the roughest softened. Ben's daughter Terra found a supporter of her personal projects and a confidant. Ben himself benefited from her return. Mostly in books and knowledge but that meant already so much to him. Farah gained a daughter ; (Y/N)'s powers were a mess for her advanced age, helping felt natural. But what she loved the most was how confused Saul got with the new Specialist. Their bond strengthened with time, however the first few days rocked the Headmaster all over the place.

«(Y/L/N), what did you do to our office ? Did you... Are these books classified by alphabetic order and colour ?! »

His colleague shrugged, trying to see if he was mad or just surprised. It happened a few days after her arrival. Their shared office went under few renovations.

« (Y/L/N), why dancing classes ? »

She shot up, put her hands on his desk and took twenty minutes to explain how it would make their movements more flexible, strengthen teamwork and be a tool for future mission on the job. Astonished could not describe Silva's feeling.

An admirable change that proved beneficial to the students. These two grew very fond of each other. A lot more than they thought. Words in the hallways started to spread about their growing fondness.

« Okay, I got a question for you, soldier boy.»

Saul tilted his head to the side.

« Are you having fun ?

-Of course I am.»

(Y/N) looks disappointed. Turning around, she pours some water in her cup and chugs it down.

« Really ? 'Cause the only thing I've seen you do is sit in a corner all night. »

He lowers his head, searching for the right words. How does he say that he just loves watching her run around the dancefloor ? How she bounds with students but also keeps their respect ? The fact that she's so organised that she could plan a First World themed party and keep her teacher skills to their best ? The shortest way for that would be admitting his feelings. He zones out long enough for her to talk again.

« It's okay. »

His eyes lock with hers. How did she sober up so quickly ?

« I know you have a reputation as a serious and frowny teacher to keep. And this is a graduation party, so. »

Never mind, she did not. The woman gets up, only to kneel under the tablecloth. He panics briefly.

« (Y/N), what on Earth are you doing ?»

She mumbles before appearing back outside. Her hands are holding a package. Another bright smile shines on her face. Silva knows what's coming, and he has mixed feelings about it; between fear, excitement and confusion.

« Happy Birthday Saul. »

His heart nearly stops. Few people know about his birthday, she is now a part of them. He frankly does not mind, even wished for it for a while now. His hands gently take the package to open it. Before his eyes lies a hard covered sketchbook and a wooden box full of high-quality pencils. The cover has a crow flying in a pearly sky with a red sun. The box is made of ebony and his name carved in silver. She knows an another of his secret. He tears up. The woman worries when he starts to sniffle. Much to her surprise, the soldier puts the gifts on the table before hugging her with all his might. Thank God the students are dancing or already out of the hall to smoke. (Y/N) answers his embrace, reassured.

« Thank you so much dear. »

It's her turn to have glossy eyes. She buries her face in his shoulder. This man is constantly under pressure and she has always wondered what he does during his free time : Does he train more ? He probably reads, right ? The answer came on a regular afternoon.

Silva knocked on her quarters' door. He heard shuffling before (Y/N) opened. She was wearing a bathrobe and a towel around her hair.

« Hi Saul ! Sorry hum. I woke up late and did not expect you so soon so, hum. »

The woman looked around, making her towel fall. Picking it up, she invited him in. He indulged, though a bit surprised.

« I'll be back in a jiffy, you know, putting some clothes on and all. Okay.»

She disappeared in her bathroom, leaving him to explore her room. Many watercolour paintings covered the walls, some abstract and others from the Realms of the Otherworld. However, a few landscapes felt unknown to him. On her desk lied sketches with a horde of different pencils. He discovered portraits of Farah, Ben, Terra, Sky, Riven and finally him. The lines were thin, some shadows sharp for the warriors and smoother for the fairies. A hint of jealousy took over him, quickly brushed away by shyness. The fact that she took the time to draw him was flattering. His fingers grazed over the pencils, wondering if he had time to prepare a little surprise. He puts down the file he came to discuss. A few minutes later, (Y/N) came out, dressed but her hair still wet on the edges. Silva was leaning against her desk, file in hand, a small smile on his features. She mirrored it before asking about the important matter at hand. Twenty minutes later, he left. Her eye caught a change in her drawing material : the portrait of Farah and Ben switched positions. She shuffled them, making sure everything was here, only to find an unknown piece. A cute fox was smiling, a little bubble under him stating :

« Nice Work (Y/L/N). Nice pencils too. Wish I had your talent.»

That last sentence made her wonder if he indeed had an artistic side. Needless to say that his quarters gave her answer. Same reason as his when he came, she knocked on his door one night. Though he did not fully invite her in, her eyes caught glimpses of nice sketches lying on a table, some rudimental equipment next to it.

They stay like this for a few seconds. The headmistress and Professor Harvey look at each other. No words, no need. Terra is chatting with a second year in a corner, bur her eyes catch them. She smiles, looking away shyly, but happy Sky sees the scene too, thanks to Riven who taps on his shoulder. They can't help the smile growing on their faces. Sky's father figure finding support is definitely going to be one of the highlights of their first year. (Y/N) and Saul part. One of her hands pats his arm.

« Wanna dance ? »

He closes his eyes, sighing. There is no lack of desire but the fear of what the students will say.

« I wish but... I don't know.

-I get it. But one day, you will ! That's a promise. »

With one last smile, she strolls back to the dancefloor, leaving him sheepish. He takes the sketchbook and a pencil. He might not dance tonight, but he'll make up to it.

#fate the winx saga #saul silva #saul silva x reader #sky of eraklyon #fate riven #farah dowling #ben harvey #saul silva imagine

180 notes · View notes

nalu4emily · 3 years

Text

The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 18

Summary: Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised.

Rated mature for a reason. Although this chapter is all fluff.

With one last glance in the mirror, Lucy eyed herself closely in the reflection. Her eyes followed the movement of her manicured hand slowly drifting down the length of the lacy bodice, smoothing over a few creases in the skirt before finally resting under her bump. She studied the silk material carefully, appreciating the way it flowed off of her curvaceous body and delicately trailed along the floor behind.

It was beautiful, unlike the enormous meringue-like frock her friends had so graciously picked out for her. Gone were the days of wearing intricately designed, overly priced, princess dresses that left little room to move, let alone breathe. No, the one she'd picked out was much more flattering, less poofy, and delicately sat in just the right places. It clung to her every curve and emphasised all the parts Lucy liked about her body, whilst also accommodating her growing bump. Her silky blonde hair had been loosely pulled back and curled, decorated with small gem encrusted pins throughout. And her make up had been left minimal, giving her a simple but elegant finish—the look she favoured nowadays.

Her hand began rubbing small circles were it lay, a recent thing she found herself doing, a comfort to her racing heart as it pulsated through her body, echoing the erratic movements of her unborn baby.

She was anxious; who wouldn't be? But she knew that her guild mates would never allow such a day to go badly, they'd all put too much effort into planning it to allow for such folly.

As for Natsu… well, the boy didn't know what'd hit him once the guild found out. He had no idea what getting married really entailed, and figured, like she, it would happen much further into the future than it had. Their friends, however, had given them little choice in the matter, and within a month of the proposal, she was standing in her dream wedding dress about to make that lifelong commitment to the man just as clueless as she was.

In some ways, it all seemed rather convenient. If Lucy didn't know any better, she would've put her fateful coupling down to destiny, but those were the delusions of a small child who'd grown up alone in a big mansion, destined to marry some self important aristocrat and play housewife for his money.

A different life entirely.

Her meeting Natsu had changed all that; he'd opened her eyes to what life could really offer. She'd concluded, after many years as a member of Fairy Tail, that destiny really could be burned to ashes, that fate stood no chance against the likes of her friends, and that she was no different. It had been her choices that'd lead her down this path, and that she had always been in charge of her own future.

So getting married was no longer some massive event that held such great importance in her life, for she had found her true happiness. Married or not, her feelings towards the dragon slayer would never change, her heart belonged solely to him and had done for much longer than she'd ever admit to.

Instead, the wedding would be used a day of celebrating their long lasting friendship, their deep bond and most importantly, the love they'd shared so unconditionally for one another. They'd been through so much together; the pain and heart ache; the cheer and laughter and everything in between; every memory was precious and every moment from now on, even more so.

The longer she thought about it all, the more her eyes began to prickle with unshed tears, threatening to streak down her powdered skin, "Ugh… Stupid feelings..." She whispered, using her finger to wipe up the wetness.

"Aw, Lucy, you don't have to cry! Save it for the actual ceremony, you'll ruin your make up otherwise." Levy was quick to take out a clean tissue, dabbing away at her friends eyes whilst trying not to ruin her masterpiece. "Thank goodness for waterproof mascara, huh?"

"Sorry Levy, I don't know what came over me." She just couldn't understand it; where had all these emotions come from? "It must be my hormones…"

"Nope, I'm pretty sure it's because you're about to get married, Lucy. I imagine lot's of bride's get a little teary on their wedding day." Mira began, offering some words of encouragement. "And besides, Natsu will be just as emotional, I bet."

If memory served correctly, Natsu would be, no doubt, still in his boxers, piling food into his face alongside Happy and Haru, with not a care in the world. It was just a gut feeling, but somehow, Lucy was pretty sure their morning had gone very differently to hers. "Hmm… I don't know. Are we even talking about the same person here? I mean he's probably not even dressed yet."

Mira chuckled lightly, although Lucy saw right through it. She knew that if her words were true, the barmaid wouldn't hesitate to go full Satan-soul on the slayer's ass, ripping him a new one. But the woman said nothing more about it as she reached up to place the veil atop of Lucy's head, before standing back to marvel at the beautiful bride, "There. I have to say, Natsu's one lucky guy! You look good enough to eat, Lucy!"

"Um… thanks, Mira." Blushing, Lucy turned away embarrassed, knowing exactly what the take over mage was inferring, "How much longer until we're ready?"

"Twenty minutes. So we need to pick up the pace or we'll be late." Erza's thunderous tone came sharply from the doorway as she entered the room, her athletic body filling her own, full length dress out in ways Lucy felt slightly envious of. "And the bride shall not be late to her own wedding. We've all waited far too long for it to be ruined now."

Lucy chose to ignore that last bit, never one to dwell on what her guild mates inevitably spoke about behind her and Natsu's back. She quickly put her heeled shoes on and made her way to the door, "Is Anna here yet? She's supposed to be walking me down the aisle."

One of the few decisions Lucy had been allowed to make about her wedding day was who she wanted walking her down the aisle. In replacement of her mother and as someone who meant a lot to both her and Natsu, Anna had been the perfect choice that no one could really argue with.

"I'm here, Lucy!" Anna called, waving her hand as she entered the room, awestruck by how radiant the bride looked in her glistening gown, "Wow! Don't you look stunning! Then again, the Heartfilia gene has yet to fail us." She winked and smiled, "Let's hope this baby follows the same path, hmm?"

Chuckling, Lucy smiled for the first time that morning, feeling a sense of comfort and relief with Anna around. She shared the same kind disposition and caring nature her mother once had; maybe it was a Heartfilia thing? But if Lucy closed her eyes for just a moment, she could almost trick herself into believing Layla was standing right there with her. Maybe, in some weird way, she was, and that's all the young blonde could hope for.

"Time to go!" Erza bellowed, shooing them all out of the door, "We have a wedding to attend!"

On the other side of town, up on the hill where the small cottage stood, a very different story was unfolding, one of complete bedlam, and no one, not even Lucy, should've expected any different.

"Dammit! Why do I have to wear this ridiculous thing anyway?" Natsu grumbled, pulling at the tie around his neck, unhappy that he'd been forced to wear it instead of his beloved scarf. "It's tryin' to choke me, I swear!"

"I don't think it's alive, Natsu…" Happy uttered, having watched his friend battle the urge to destroy the thing for the past ten minutes.

"Yeah, but if it was, I'd totally beat it and burn it to the ground!" Fisting the air in triumph over his imaginary brawl with the inanimate object, the fire breather sniggered.

"You could just burn it now."

The fire mage's smirk turned into an all out evil grin as he went to summon his fire, reaching for the offending material dangling over his shirt.

"Although, I doubt a certain scary lady in armour would be too pleased… Not after everything she went through to get you to wear it in the first place."

And then it all came crashing down again, his need to set fire to it dissipating. He knew better than to go against something Erza had chosen and groaned obnoxiously, throwing his head back onto the pillows in a huff, causing hot smoke to seep from his mouth, "Stupid tie… Stupid Erza…"

Hearing a thump next to him, his eyes rolled to the side, his neck twisting in turn, only to find that Haru had slumped down onto his back as well.

His large blue eyes were fixed on his father's mouth and his lips were pursed slightly as he continued to stare. Then, with a look of determination, he blew with all his might, over and over again in the hopes of forming his own puff of smoke.

Unable to keep his amusement in, Natsu turned over to observe the baby closer, intrigue furrowing his brows and fascination lighting up his face when an untimely idea came to mind.

"Hey Happy, d'ya think Haru might be able to learn magic soon?" He contemplated the thought for a moment as he sat himself up, pulling the little one up with him.

Stopping to think about it, the exceed scrunched his nose up in disbelief, not entirely sure if now was really the time to be having such thoughts, "Really? But he's only just learnt to walk."

"I know, but look at him. He seems to want to." Natsu wasn't sure if he'd even be able to teach him how to breath fire, not without the use of dragon slayer magic and that was off the table. But then again, that wasn't the only thing he could show him. "It'd be kinda cool to see, don't ya think?"

"Uh… I'm not sure now is the time, Natsu… you don't wanna be late." Happy erred on the side of caution, but after one look of his friends scheming face, he was quick to give in, "Then again, it would be pretty cool to see what he does, I guess."

"That's the spirit! We got some time to kill before that Snowflake gets here anyway, so might as well have a little fun." Natsu grinned wickedly, ideas of how to go about it swirling around in his head. "Hey little guy, come 'ere! Daddy's got something to show you!" Igniting his palm, he watched excitedly for Haru's reaction to his magic.

The little boy, although startled at first, stared in wonder at the tiny flame so close to his face, and watched it flicker with the slight movements of his father's hand. It was captivating to be within reach of such burning hot fire, even if he'd seen it so many times before. Although the bright heat was something he so readily associated with Natsu, being this close to it was a first for him, and that made it all the more thrilling.

"Fire!" The child exclaimed, using the springs of the mattress to bob up and down in his excitement.

"Heck yeah, it is! And now that it's just us, we can be awesome fire dragons together, right Haru?" Natsu sniggered like the mischievous imp he was, and brought the kids hand up next to his ignited one.

But after taking one look between his and his father's hands, the little boy pulled away again, a sad expression adorning his sweet face as he stared into his empty palm, "No…" He mumbled, his bottom lip jutting out and his eyes filling with tears, "No!"

"I don't think he understands, Natsu." Happy interjected, not convinced the boy was anywhere near old enough to fully grasp how to handle magic.

"'Course not—not yet anyway. But he will one day, and it's gonna be the best!" The slayer kept his smile as he guided the little boy onto his lap, ruffling his thick hair affectionately to cheer him up again, "Chin up, kiddo! It takes a long time to learn how to wield magic. But with some practice, you'll be the toughest little dragon around, you'll see."

Listening to that calming tone, the child glanced up at his adoring parent, comforted by the big grin that always managed to reach his eyes, a gentle touch that embodied the very bond they shared. The mood was infectious and with a little coaxing, the small boy couldn't keep his lips from curving upwards, brightening the room around them once again.

With newfound courage, he reached his arm back out, placing it near to Natsu and waited expectantly, "Oh, so you do wanna be a dragon, huh? Alright then, but ya gotta give me your best roar first!" Natsu smirked, proud to have taught his son the 'non-magical' version of roaring (aka shouting really loudly) at the very least. And he did just that; at the top of his voice; no encouragement needed, "Whoa! That was super awesome, little guy! Now let's see how you handle this!"

"If you're about to do what I think you're gonna do, then I hope for your sake, Lucy never finds out." Happy warned, not wanting to take any responsibility for what was inevitably about to happen.

"Hey! I'm not stupid enough to burn down my own house. What do you take me for, an idiot?" The answer was yes, but Happy's restraint held strong, knowing he'd be heard even if he'd muttered it under his breath. Natsu, on the other hand, took no heed and brought both hands out this time, taking hold of the chubby little ones waiting for him, "Are ya ready?"

Igniting the flames once more, Haru watched the blazing magic slowly seep onto his fingers, a gentle warmth tingling his flesh, enough to make him flinch as it encased each tiny fist. After a few unsure moments, and the opening and closing of his palms, his blue eyes lit up with a wonderment only children seemed to possess, his very soul shining just as brightly as the flames he'd been gifted.

"Daddy! Daddy, fire!"

Natsu chuckled, as he leant back on the bed, using his now fireless hands to prop himself up, "Haha! I knew you had it in ya! Now you get to be just like a real fire dragon, and as long as you play with it on me, you can't burn anything, either." It was fool proof, he was certain of that. And with the look of sheer astonishment on that cute little face in front of him, Natsu could hardly contain himself.

"Yeah, right! Like you're one to talk…You're the first person to destroy things. It's why we never have any money." It was true and Natsu knew it, but that didn't stop the unimpressed glare he sent Happy's way.

"Why else do you think I put him in my lap?" The slayer tilted his head, his annoyance short lived, "He can't burn me so it's fine, and he's not really wielding fire, it's just pretend." He added, his infamous grin returning, and attention now fully diverted from the child he was supposed to be watching, "They'll go out before long."

"Sure, but, uh… I think Haru may have different ideas…" The exceed said, quietly gesturing to the boy in his lap.

"Huh? How so?" The fire mage asked, but by the time he'd turned around to see, it was already too late, "Haru!"

With one touch from the child's fingers, the fire caught on to the covers they were sitting on and spread like a fuse to a bomb.

"Get out of the way!" It lit up the entire bed in a flash, giving Natsu only seconds to get Haru off of it in time before they both landed in heaps on the floor.

It'd gone up so quickly; such was the destructive nature of those flames, and now his and Lucy's bed, the very bed they slept in every night, was a pile of smoking ash on the floor, the fire extinguished along with it.

Silence. All that could be heard was the silence…

"I… I-I'm dead… I'm so dead…" The dragon slayer's voice was barely a whisper, and his horrified expression said it all. The crushing weight of impending doom loomed over him and no amount of blinking was going to bring back their disintegrated bed, no matter how hard he tried.

What was he going to do? He'd been in control of the situation; he had a plan and it was fool proof. Not a few seconds he'd peeled his sights away from the child—just a few damn seconds and now...

And what about Lucy? She'd be furious, no… outraged by it all! He'd be seeing her in less than thirty minutes from now; how could he look her in the eyes, say their vows, then tell her she'd be sleeping on the couch?! That was a conversation that ended badly no matter what way he looked at it.

"You were saying?" Happy teased, covering his mouth with his paw, the rare look of mortification on his friend's face was priceless.

"Lucy's going to kill me!" His gaping sockets could barely keep his eyeballs from falling out, and his mouth hung low enough he could almost lick the ash off the ground.

"Daddy fire! Daddy fire!" Haru cheered, clapping his hands together while laughing, unaware of the chaos he'd unleashed, seemingly impressed with himself.

"Y-Yeah..." The young man slumped back against the dressing table, the feeling of dread taking over him the more he played out in his mind how he was going to tell his new, and very pregnant wife of the unfortunate news, giving him zero hope for survival, "You're gonna be the end of me, kid!"

"Like father, like son!" It was all too funny for the little exceed, who was attempting, but failing, to stop the flow of cackles escaping his mouth.

"Hey! Stop laughing would ya! It's not funny!" Natsu snapped, the sound of Happy busting his guts slowly grinding away at him.

"But it is! You should've seen your face! Shame Reedus wasn't here to draw the picture!" Happy continued to shriek with laughter, infecting little Haru as well.

"Not you, too!" Natsu complained, but his voice held no real consequence. After all, it was his idea to let the one year old play with fire, and it would be his sorry ass to own up and take responsibility.

"What the hell is going on in here?!" Startled by the unexpected but familiar voice, the trio of boys twisted their heads to see an out of breath Gray standing in the bedroom doorway.

"Oh, it's you… Don't you know how to knock?" Natsu dead-panned, apparently more annoyed by Gray's intrusion than the burnt bed.

"Never mind about that, I ran all the way here 'cause your house is smoking! What did you do this time, fire breath?" Glad to see everyone was fine, the ice mage sighed in relief that it appeared to be nothing serious.

"Hey! Why do people always assume it's me? Maybe it was Happy?"

"But it was you, Natsu."

"Shh! I'm trying to make a point here!"

"It was obviously you, idiot! You're the only pyro here!" Gray shook his head, hardly believing that this was the guy about to get married. "Anyway, we need to get going, or Erza will have our heads."

"But… but what about the bed?" Natsu whimpered like a child, pointing to where it once stood.

"Wait… You burnt down your own bed?! What is wrong with you, Dragneel?! Of all the days to be a bigger idiot than normal, you pick today?" Gray smacked his palm over his face exasperatedly. He hadn't even noticed that it was the bed that'd been burnt, but now it was clear to see where all the smoke was coming from.

"Come on, numbskull! We don't have time for this!" Grabbing hold of the still-in-shock Natsu by the collar, he used his ice magic to freeze all of the ash lain bare on the floor, effectively halting the smoke and yanked his rival out of the house, determined to get to the cathedral on time, "We'll deal with your stupidity later, but right now, you gotta get married and I'm prepared to drag you all the way there if I have to."

Lucy could feel the blood pulsing in her ears, her hand clutched at her belly as the sickness she'd been suppressing all morning finally reared its ugly head. She felt sticky and clammy from the extra adrenaline coursing its way through her body—and was now an appropriate time to say she needed to pee… again!?

"Take a deep breath and try to relax yourself." She heard Anna whisper into her ear as they both stared at the large cathedral doors. "When you walk down that aisle, remember its only you and Natsu that matters, no one else, okay?"

Giving a shy nod, she inhaled deeply, as if that was going to be her last breath and tried to calm herself down.

"Are you ready?"

Bowing her head once more, Lucy could hear the guests grow silent behind the large doors, the loud creaking signifying they were opening. Planting one heeled foot over the threshold, the blonde looked up to everyone that was waiting for her entrance, and it was in that moment time seemed to stand still.

Among the gasps and gleaming faces; the decorated pews and hard stone floor; hazy, chocolate eyes scoured the ancient hall. There they all were; her friends; her family; every single person that held such importance in her heart. It made her happy, ecstatic even, that this joyous day could be celebrated with the people closest to her, the people that'd accepted her for who she was and nurtured her into the person she was today.

She hadn't even realised she'd stopped breathing until her lungs began to ache, forcing her to inhale a large breath of air as her legs began to slowly, and shakily, walk forwards.

Her dress glimmered in the dim light of the medieval building, capturing the eyes of the crowd, lighting up the very aisle as the long train behind her rippled with each step she took towards the altar.

But nobody, not even the keenest of dragon senses could see the pure beauty the way he did. With heat pooling in his belly, he watched the girl he loved make her way towards him, dazzling as brightly as the stars she wielded. His mouth ran dry, and his heart skipped many beats, making him question whether it was just his imagination. She appeared before him within a blink of an eye, and it was all to easy to just wash the others away.

"She's all yours, Natsu." Anna said, releasing her arm from Lucy's firm hold and winked at them both, gladly stepping back to let them take centre stage.

But neither mage heard her as their eyes connected for the first time, too enraptured by what stood before them, too absorbed in their own little world, and nothing could penetrate it.

"You… You look beautiful, Lucy." Natsu wasn't easy to fluster, but the pink tinge on his cheeks told her she'd succeeded. "Really… really beautiful…"

Her own bashfulness became evident too, her eyes soaking in his glorious form as if she'd been starved of him, "You're looking pretty good yourself, Natsu." She studied him up and down, her gaze becoming hungry for more. It wasn't very often she got to see his exceptionally toned body in something so formal, and she was totally going to make the most of it.

"T-Thanks..."

The playful wink and cute chuckle only served to make the pink on his cheeks grow darker, as if this was the first time she'd ever paid him a compliment.

‘Wasn't Lucy the one that usually reacted like this?’ He wondered, unsure why his face was suddenly feeling so hot.

“Although, I have to say, it’s still a little strange seeing you without your scarf on.” She admitted, unable to take her eyes away from his slender neck. Usually it didn’t come off until he was ready for bed… or other, less innocent things.

"You can thank Erza for that! She stole it from me and made me wear a damn tie instead." His petulant tone had the blonde sniggering into her hand, his instant annoyance enough to quash any tension left between them, "She even made Haru wear one."

Lucy glanced over to where Haru was sat in the crowd, who, although dressed in something entirely impractical for a toddler, was happily waving to his mother with the biggest grin on his face, "Poor guy…" She said, waving back, "He does look super cute in it though."

A loud cough from the front halted them in their tracks, finally breaking them out of their little bubble, "When you're quite finished." A loud voice echoed through the cathedral walls, making both mages stand to attention and face the front like naughty school children.

An older gentleman with a bald head and long beard stood before them, his bushy brows making it hard to see where his wrinkles stopped and his eyes began glared impatiently at the pair, tapping his fingers on the book he held in his hands, "Now, let's begin."

With an exaggerated sigh, his voice traipsed along the pages of his book, an aged tone that said he'd spoken these words all too many times before, had read those same lines, and joined countless lovers together in matrimony over the years. He was practised and poised, an elegant and poetic speaker, able to captivate his audience…

Unless they were Fairy Tail, of course, and more specifically a pink haired, impulsive dragon slayer, who's attention span rivalled that of a five year old. He'd zoned out the moment the old guy had started rambling, too interested in getting to the good bit—eating food and kissing Lucy, obviously.

It all sounded like drivel, mindless, unnecessary drivel, that seemed never ending, and the hall was so deafeningly quiet, which, was unnerving to say the least when trying to distract oneself.

Well, except for one faint noise, that was.

Thanks to his excellent hearing, he could hear little Haru babbling from the pews. He was being ever so quiet about it considering his lack of awareness for what was going on, and the sudden urge to turn around and take a peek at what he was doing seemed almost too much for the fire mage.

With the slightest quirk of his head, he glanced back to see the small boy playing with Happy's tail, minding his own business, perfectly content without him or Lucy there.

Satisfied to see the infant playing so calmly, Natsu went to turn back around again when a loud 'Daddy!' stopped him in his tracks. The small boy, who'd not been aware of his father's peeping only a moment ago, was now trying to scramble over the blue exceed to get to him.

"No Haru, you gotta stay there. Stay with Happy!" The desperate fire mage whispered, pointing to the cat as a sheepish grin took over at the chaos he'd caused. "Daddy will be over in a minute, kay?"

"You're making it worse, Natsu, turn around!" Lucy whispered rather loudly, never looking away from the old man still talking as she leaned in.

"Sorry Luce, but I could hear Haru talking to himself. I just wanted to see what he was doing." Natsu explained, rubbing the back of his head in habit, "Not my fault he caught me looking."

"You looked at him first, of course he was going to notice you." She said a little louder, enough that the people sat closest to them could hear.

And that was all he needed for the small smirk to creep its way onto his lips, "Oh, so you were watching, too?"

"N-No…" She stuttered, giving herself away, "I wasn't…"

"Liar."

"Okay, fine. But why do I have to listen to this and you don't? I'm just as bored as you are." She admitted, her whispers getting louder the more irate she became, "Do you know how many times I've had to keep myself from yawning? And I really need to pee, too!"

As important as she knew this part of the ceremony was, it didn't half drag. Couldn't they just say 'I do' and be done with it already? Who cared about some God when her feet were starting to hurt!?

"Well, aren't you full of surprises… Maybe you should've gone before." He sniggered, knowing exactly how to push her buttons, relishing in the glare that had imminent death written all over it.

“It’s not like I’m carrying your baby or anything…” She huffed, crossing her arms.

"Alright, if your that desperate, I could always make him go faster." His face lit up with the most mischievous grin, igniting a small flame on his pointer finger.

"Natsu! You can’t do that! You’ll get us kicked out!” She rolled her eyes, though she appreciated the sentiment.

"Aw, come on! Not even a little singe?" He pointed his fiery finger towards the man in front of them, edging it slowly closer on purpose, "His brows need taking back a bit, don't you think?"

Lucy chortled at the thought, highly amused by the man's enormous brows being set on fire and couldn't stop the giggles that followed, her restraint finally caving, "Maybe just a little bit!"

"Will you two pay attention and turn to face each other." The old man grumbled, none the wiser to their little inside jokes. "Present the rings."

The blonde continued to chuckle as she turned to face her partner in crime, her steady heart picking up pace a little now that they were staring right at each other.

His unwavering smile and silly behaviour was something she had always admired. His ability to lighten any situation, regardless of how grim it may seem, instantly had her smiling along, too.

"Now, Natsu, please say your vows."

Inhaling a deep breath, the young mage knew he'd never been good with words. Lucy had always been the speaker, the writer, the one able to talk her way out of most situations, and although the vows he'd prepared were not long like sappy love letters or poetic or book worthy, they came from the heart and that's all he could offer her.

"Luce… I gotta admit, I never saw this coming." He chuckled, his hand tangled into the hair at the back of his head, "And I know for sure you didn't either, but that's okay because no matter what happens, we'll always be Natsu and Lucy, and we'll always be partners."

Without looking away, he held her shaky hand and slipped the precious ring onto her finger with ease, her delicate skin soft against his loving warmth.

"I've always known you were special to me, it just took a while to realise how much, I guess… And apparently adopting a kid with your best friend isn't normal, so…" He shrugged nonchalantly, never giving it much thought, but earned a giggle from Lucy in return. "But I knew you'd put your all into being the best Mom you could, just like in everything you do. You're a super kind person with so much love to give, it's why you're so precious to me, and I wanna protect that with everything I've got. So, that's my promise to you, Lucy, I will protect your heart, so long as it continues to beat."

She gasped, feeling the air leave her lungs as if she'd been winded. It was short and to the point but those sweet sounding words of his, the very meaning behind them were enough to make her knees tremble. She stared, mouth agape at the man that stood before her, blown away by his promise, astounded that he'd once again found the perfect things to say.

A few unplanned tears escaped as she looked over to the little boy in the pews, then peered down to her rounded tummy, feeling the butterflies and the baby's movements fluttering around inside. So much had changed, and this would be a whole new chapter to add to their never ending adventure, an overwhelming thought that seemed all too much for her to get to grips with.

Feeling a warm hand cup her cheek she looked up to the sweet smile of her lover, the person that meant everything to her, and felt this fingers wipe away her tears. He always had a way of filling her with encouragement, even, it seemed, with just a single gesture.

"Thank you, Natsu. Now Lucy, you may begin." The old guy uttered, his gruff voice quieter than before.

Placing her free hand over the top of his, she brought them both to rest on her belly, her smile reaching her eyes as the small kicks poked at their skin, making them both chuckle.

"Natsu, there are so many things I could say that I admire about you; I could also find an equal amount of things that annoy me, too." His sudden pout made her giggle once again, along with the rest of the guild members, "But that doesn't matter, because that's the person I fell in love with. You're loyal, brave and strong; your silly, impulsive and like to fool about, but you also bring smiles to everyone around you, an ability that only you seem to possess.

I can't remember how many times you've shown me the light, lifted me up in my time of need and carried me until I could stand on my own two feet. Your presence and comfort has always been my safe place, somewhere I can call home. You're such a beautiful person, and I'm so lucky to be able to call you mine."

Tears began to fill her eyes again, and she was sure his had become a little watery too.

"So, in return for all that you do for me, and us as a family, I promise to play with your hair when your motion sick and rub your back when you eat too much." Natsu's cheeks lifted up to his eyes, scrunching them closed in amusement as she, too, grinned back at him.

"I promise to love you with all of my heart, to lift you up in your time of need and put a smile on your face when your feeling down. I promise to be loyal, brave, and strong for you, too; to fool about and make you laugh, and to always be there to stop you from going overboard.

I'll forever stand proudly at your side, and hold your hand through whatever life throws at us. You've shaped me into the person I am today, and if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have this wonderful life, such amazing friends, or a family to call my own." The tears that welled began to spill down her pink stained cheeks, but the smile that had been there all along never wavered from her lips, "You're my everything, Natsu, and you will be until the day I die."

A single tear drop slowly trickled down and dripped off of his chin as his breath hitched in his throat. As time once again stood still, it felt like he and Lucy were the only ones present; no longer able to see the guild watching their every move, or hear the grumpy old man scold them for not paying attention. Lucy was his sole focus and without waiting for the final lines to be read, the young groom impatiently pulled her in, and welded their lips together in a display of affection that had the crowd wooing and whistling for them in celebration.

"Congratulations to the happy couple!" Mira mewled, throwing confetti and flower petals over the two still very much consumed by one another.

"Can you believe it? After all these years, they're finally married!" Levy squealed in her excitement, deafening poor Gajeel in the process.

"Who'd have thought our boy, Natsu, would've ever settled down?" Wakaba stood from his seat, cigarette at the ready.

"Yep! It seems like only yesterday he was pulling pranks and starting fights with the other youngsters." Macao smirked, his arms crossed cockily over his chest.

"That's because it was yesterday, Dad! Natsu hasn't changed that much…" Romeo shook his head at the two old farts, but smiled when he looked back to his idol, "Then again, he does have a family now. I guess getting married just kinda made sense."

"Nothing they do makes sense, kid. You only have to look at 'em to see that." Laxus spoke from the pew behind, his thunder legion companions sat right along with him.

"Yes, but they have made their pairing work. As a team, they're like clockwork and as a couple, they're impenetrable." Erza's smile brightened her face as she glanced on at the two newly weds, proud of her friends and of how far they'd come.

"Alright guys, let's move this to the guild! I wanna get my booze on and the bar is waiting!" Cana yelled, drink bottle already in hand as she, along with most of the others filtered out of the cathedral, not wanting to spoil the couples moment.

Natsu and Lucy, however, were in a bubble all of their own; where soft, tinted lips met hot, firm ones in a passionate battle that neither wanted to lose. But the need for air was far stronger, forcing them to separate and stare into each others eyes as they caught their breaths.

"You know, you're supposed to wait for me to pronounce you husband and wife before embracing like that." The bushy browed man said from behind the altar, glowering at the couple he had no hope of controlling.

"Oh… uh, sorry about that… Kinda got swept up in the moment." Natsu grinned sheepishly, chuckling to ease the tension, while Lucy just hid herself behind him.

"Hmm… Well it doesn't matter now. What does is that you are legally bound. Good luck to you both."

"Thanks!"

They watched the man take his leave, only then noticing that the hall was empty, "Huh… Where'd everybody go?" The fire mage was sure the hall had been filled just a moment ago.

"So you guys finally came up for air, huh?" Gray walked over, he and Juvia, along with Happy and Haru the only ones left. "Everyone's gone back to the guild to wait instead of watch you both suck face. Seriously, how long can you hold your breath for?"

An oblivious Natsu only shrugged, but a blushing Lucy was quick to hide her face from Gray's knowing smirk, turning the opposite way to where Juvia was standing with the little baby in her arms, and the blonde's face lit up instantly, "Oh, look at him! Isn't he just the sweetest? And he didn't cry once throughout the whole thing! What a little sweetheart!"

"Yes, Juvia is quite surprised herself that he stayed quiet. Juvia can't say he does the same at night though." The water mage chuckled through her tiredness, a look Lucy was all too familiar with, "But Juvia doesn't mind, not when Gray is so willing to get up with him."

"Aww, Daddy Gray to the rescue, huh? And here I thought you were worried about the whole thing. Looks like you're doing just fine to me!" Lucy said, turning her attention to the ice mage standing there.

"Worried? Who said I was-?" And then it clicked, "Natsu! You told Lucy what I said? That was just between us!" Gray turned to the fire mage, who, had since recovered his own son from the pews, walking him back to where they were all standing.

"Yeah, I know. That's why I only told Lucy, duh!"

"Don't 'duh' me, you weren't supposed to tell anybody, and that includes Lucy!" If he could've smacked his head on a wall, he would've… Or better yet, smack Natsu's!

"But I tell Lucy everything…"

"Oh, you do, do you? That's funny, because I'm certain there's something you haven't told her yet, right?" The look of fear that flashed across Natsu's face was enough to make the ice mage drop his annoyance in favour of revenge.

"Not told me what? Did something happen?" Lucy cocked her head as she looked up from the cooing baby, her sights flickering between the squabbling duo scowling at each other.

"Should I tell her, Natsu?" Gray's smirk was almost sickening, his own pleasure outweighing the consequences.

"Don't you dare, Popsicle!" The fire mage bit out through gritted teeth, "Or I'll rearrange your face with my fist!" If looks could kill…

"Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" The curious look on Lucy's face quickly turned to frustration the longer she was kept waiting, "Natsu?" Slowly she traipsed her way over, backing him against the rows of benches.

"Uh oh! Looks like hell is about to break loose..." Happy sniggered from his perch on the altar, high fiving Haru as he began to giggle, too.

"Oh dear… You may have started something there, Gray dear." Juvia said, passing the sleepy newborn over to his father.

"Nah! Natsu had this one coming." He sniggered, shushing the baby back to sleep.

A vein popping on her forehead, Lucy's irritation had just about reached breaking point, "Speak!"

Swallowing thickly, the young man looked up to his very new, very pregnant wife, just like he knew he'd have to and wished momentarily that the ground would swallow him whole, "Well… Uh… I-It's kind of… Um…" What was he supposed to say? "I-I was playing with Haru this morning and, u-uh, stuff happened and our bed is now… gone."

Raising a brow, the girl looked even more confused, "Gone? What do you mean, it's gone?"

"Gone… As in it was there… and now its not." He really wasn't doing himself any favours.

"Natsu..."

"Happy did it!" He panicked.

"Hey! No I didn't, you burnt it! You let Haru play with your fire, not me! I warned you it would end badly, but you wouldn't listen and now-"

"You did what?!" Her eyes were blood red as she glared at the suspecting dragon slayer, her hair reminiscent of a certain Satan soul mage. “You burnt down our bed?!”

It was in times like this he was glad that she couldn't out run him, especially not at the moment, as he pegged it for the exit.

"Natsu Dragneel! Just you wait 'til I get my hands on you!"

Her yelling from behind reminded him of all the times he'd found himself in this exact predicament, whether it be from destroying a building or their bed, it brought a smile to his lips at just how familiar it all felt. It seemed as their evolving relationship and family changed and grew, his vows rang true, they would always be Natsu and Lucy, and that would forever be the same.

With one solid push of the large cathedral doors, he opened them wide, allowing the natural afternoon light seep into the old walls. Readjusting the boy in his arms, and with Happy flying over head, he chanced a small glance back at his livid wife stalking her way over to him, and grinned mischievously, sealing his already doomed fate with his final words, "Come on then, Luce! But you'll have to catch me first!"

Thanks for reading!

49 notes · View notes

kaijudyke · 3 years

Text

hello my friends! as you may or may not be aware i have a healthy obsession with the ballad of tam lin, and today i would like to talk to you about the abundance of parallels between tam lin and star trek deep space nine s02e22 the wire! i will be summarizing the ballad for you so you do not need to be familiar with it! strap in for a long analysis and join me under the cut 💖

1. a summary of the ballad in broad strokes

(all excerpts in this section from child 39A)

tam lin is a scottish folktale about a young woman named janet who goes to the forest of carterhaugh, which is known to be guarded by a fairy called tam lin.

O I forbid you, maidens a', That wear gowd on your hair, To come or gae by Carterhaugh, For young Tam Lin is there.

(janet is aware of this, and goes anyway. one of my favorite running themes in the ballad is janet being incredibly headstrong and cocky.) she picks a few roses, he appears and tells her to stop, she stands up to him, and they end up sleeping together (and, ostensibly, falling in love). she returns home to her father's castle pregnant. her father and the other men at the castle are very concerned about her pregnancy, but she defies them and tells her father that this is her own responsibility and that she'd rather be with tam lin than any human nobleman:

If that I gae wi child, father, Mysel maun bear the blame, There's neer a laird about your ha, Shall get the bairn's name. If my love were an earthly knight, As he's an elfin grey, I wad na gie my ain true-love For nae lord that ye hae.

janet goes back to carterhaugh to pick abortifacient herbs and terminate the pregnancy, since she believes she and tam lin will never be able to be together. tam lin reappears and asks her to stop, and she asks him to tell her more about himself (in many versions she asks him if he's a christian), looking for any reason not to give up on him:

"Why pu's thou the rose, Janet, Amang the groves sae green, And a' to kill the bonny babe That we gat us between?" "O tell me, tell me, Tam Lin," she says, "For's sake that died on tree, If eer ye was in holy chapel, Or christendom did see?"

he tells her that he's human like her, but was taken by the fairy queen as a child. he also says that the fairies pay a tithe to hell every seven years, and he's worried this time they're going to sacrifice him. he tells her how to save him: she must be at miles cross at midnight on all hallow's eve, when the fairies ride by, and she must pull him down from his horse and hold on to him as the fairies change his shape several times.

"They'll turn me in your arms, lady, Into an esk and adder, But hold me fast, and fear me not, I am your bairn's father. "They'll turn me to a bear sae grim, And then a lion bold, But hold me fast, and fear me not, And ye shall love your child. "Again they'll turn me in your arms To a red het gand of airn, But hold me fast, and fear me not, I'll do you nae harm. "And last they'll turn me in your arms Into the burning gleed, Then throw me into well water, O throw me in with speed. "And then I'll be your ain true-love, I'll turn a naked knight, Then cover me wi your green mantle, And hide me out o sight."

(the exact details of the transformations vary between versions, but some of the most common shapes he has to go through are adder, newt, lion, hot coal, and burning iron. if you're interested in the variations, i highly recommend this page!) once the transformations are done, he instructs her to wrap him in her green cloak, after which the fairies won't have a claim to him anymore. janet follows his instructions and successfully saves him, much to the dismay of the fairy queen.

2. janet, julian, and their relationships

whichever version of tam lin you are reading, janet is a character with a ton of agency. she has no qualms about encroaching on tam lin's territory (in fact she tells him in no uncertain terms that the forest is hers), and there is some indication that she might have gone to carterhaugh specifically because she wanted to sleep with tam lin; she's said to be wearing a green dress, and since the color green was associated with the fae, wearing green to a fairy wood is pretty clearly inviting their attention. (in medieval literature, green was also sometimes associated with love and sex.)

it's not hard to draw a parallel between janet's decision to pursue tam lin despite the danger he represents and julian's immediate fascination with garak in past prologue even though (or rather because) he suspects him to be a spy. also of note is that janet and tam lin's relationship begins with an argument, where her willingness to challenge him seems to be what draws him to her. one of my favorite retellings, by james p. spence, emphasizes this:

‘I'm here tae guard these woods, tae see that naebodie nor nothing disturbs their peace.’ ‘An was it ma father that gave ye such a job?’ ‘Naw it wasnae.’ ‘Weel, there ye are then. It should be you that's asking ma permission tae set foot in these woods, because it is ma father that owns them.’ Then the young man's face rose up intae a smile that seemed many a long year since it was last there. (scottish borders folk tales, james p. spence, p. 114-115)

i'm sure i don't need to tell you that this is reminiscent not only of garak and julian's fondness for debate but of the way cardassians show romantic interest. more than that, though, i think there's something to be said for the way these relationships are treated by other people in the characters' lives. janet's father and his knights are troubled by her pregnancy, and they clearly think she should be with a normal, respectable man, preferably one of said knights, given that she feels the need to remark "There's neer a knight about your ha / Shall hae the bairnie's name." (child 39I) in the wire, when julian tells jadzia he wishes garak would trust him, she replies "why should he? it's not like the two of you are really friends." julian's friends do not understand why he spends so much time with garak—a cardassian, a spy, an outcast, someone who can't be trusted.

in both cases it's easy enough to see where they're coming from; being pregnant out of wedlock with a fairy's child is certainly not an ideal situation for a young noblewoman to find herself in, and it's remarkably foolish for a starfleet officer to have regular lunch dates with someone he believes to be an enemy spy. but janet and julian are both stubborn, and more interested in what's adventurous and exciting than what's good for them. (remember that, like janet knowingly going to pick roses in a forest guarded by fairies, julian wanted the position on ds9 because he wanted to try his hand at "frontier medicine"; misguided as he may have been, his thirst for adventure is the reason he's even on the station to begin with.)

3. fairyland, the obsidian order, and enabran tain

in the ballad, tam lin is abducted by the fairy queen when he's a child. she takes him to a magical realm where he feels no pain and is far removed from human worries.

And we that live in faeryland, No sickness know, nor pain, I quit my body when I will, And take to it again. (j. holm, verse 32)

garak has been enabran tain's protégé since he was very young. as an operative of the obsidian order, he's been trained to be cool under pressure, to play his cards close to his chest, and to avoid sentimentality and attachment. the plot of the episode hinges entirely on a device implanted in his brain that keeps him from feeling pain. to save his life, julian has to remove the implant, metaphorically rescuing him from fairyland and the influence of the queen who stole him away from the human world. the fairy queen is very possessive of tam lin and very disdainful of his feelings for janet; in many versions of the ballad, after janet successfully rescues him, the fairy queen remarks that if she'd known this would happen, she would have plucked out his eyes and replaced them with wood, or taken his heart and replaced it with stone.

"But had I kend, Tam Lin," said she, "What now this night I see, I wad hae taen out thy twa grey een, And put in twa een o tree." (child 39A, verse 42) 'Had I but kend, Thomas,' she says, 'Before I came frae hame, I had taen out that heart o flesh, Put in a heart o stane.' (child 39B, verse 41)

much like tain tried and failed to mold garak into the perfect emotionless spy, the fairy queen very literally wants to remove tam lin's ability to feel love, because his emotions make him harder for her to control, and in the end are what lead him to escape her clutches entirely. garak and tam lin are both saved by the same thing: their transgressive love for their rescuer, and the fierce, unconditional love they receive in return.

4. hold me fast and fear me not

the central event of the tam lin ballad, of course, is the transformation scene. i'm sure it's what makes the ballad stick in people's minds; it certainly is for me. there's something so deeply romantic about the phrase "hold me fast and fear me not," and about the idea of loving someone so much that you'll hold on to them even as they turn into a beast in your arms. the wire doesn't have as literal a transformation scene as tam lin, but i would argue that it certainly has one.

after julian removes garak's implant (which we can equate to pulling tam lin down from his horse), garak goes through withdrawal. he becomes, by turns, depressed, and angry, and spiteful, and violent. throughout the episode, we see him try to drive julian away. he refuses his help; he insults him; he tells him contradictory stories about his past, all designed to shock him; when none of this succeeds at discouraging him, he physically lashes out.

julian, however, doesn't budge. he isn't fooled by the shapes garak contorts himself into. he takes every change in stride, never wavering in his determination to save him. every person garak claims to be, julian accepts. like janet defying the fairy queen for love of tam lin, he goes as far as to enter cardassian territory and seek out enabran tain in order to save garak's life. when he believes he's about to die, garak tells julian he needs to know that someone forgives him; "i forgive you," julian says, "for whatever it is you did." whatever kind of beast garak is—whatever kind of beast tain has turned him into—julian will not let go of his hand. he will hold him fast.

He grew into her arms two Like iron in hot fire; She held him fast, let him not go, He was her heart's desire. (child 39D, verse 31)

the basic structure of these stories is the same: the main character finds out that the person they love is in immediate danger due to something they went through when they were younger, which fundamentally changed them as a person and is also keeping the two from being together. unwilling to lose their love, they brave the wrath of a powerful villain who's controlled this person's life for a long time. there are undeterred by the frightening changes the person goes through. in the end, they are victorious, and their beloved is free.

5. my dear doctor, they're all true

a closing statement: tam lin is a folktale. like any folktale, there are many, many versions of it, often contradicting each other. there is no definitive version of tam lin (though child 39A may be the most famous). you're free to read every available version of the story, finding meaning not only in the most commonly reoccurring themes, but also in which parts of the text speak to you. like garak's contradictory stories about his life, while it's hard to say whether any one element is true, every element tells you something—about the story, or about the person who tells it. my view of these story parallels is heavily influenced by my own personal interpretation of, and feelings about, the ballad. as it should be.

#star trek #deep space nine #ds9 #star trek deep space nine #star trek ds9 #garashir #julian bashir #elim garak #talk tag #trek talk tag #i feel like i sound very pretentious in this but fuck it i am pretentious

68 notes · View notes

twstarchives · 3 years

Text

Scary Dress・Voice Lines

● Event: Scary Monsters (October 14 - November 26, 2020) ● Exclusive Cards: Deuce, Kalim, Epel, Idia, Malleus, Lilia, Azul, Jack, Jade, Vil, Cater

Deuce Spade - R

Unlock Card “This school event is meant for everyone to have fun. I’m going to make sure this Halloween’s a success!”

Groovy “You’re not getting away from me... I’ll scare you till you're trembling to the bone!”

Home Setting “I’m a skeleton ghost that’s risen from the grave! BOO!”

Home Transitions “These are our special costumes, so make sure you’re careful with them. Grim, that means don’t claw on the lace.”

“When I was a kid, there were times when I used to start sobbing because I thought there was a monster outside. But it was actually just the laundry drying out there... Oi, stop laughing!”

“I got some treats from Epel. There’s a lot of them, so I thought I’d share with you. You know the secret code, right?”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Happy Halloween! You just can’t help but get excited around this time of year.”

Home Taps “I saw Draconia a while ago. Seeing him walk around in that serpentine dragon costume so valiantly made him look cooler than ever.”

“I got a text from my mom—she said she wants to see my costume. I don’t mind sending her one, but I don’t know how I feel about taking a selfie... Prefect, could you take one of me?”

“I’m used to seeing the ghosts on campus, so they’re not that scary. Our terrifying dorm leader Rosehearts, on the other hand...”

“Viper fixed the lace on my hat for me. I feel like the vice leaders in every dorm are really caring.”

“Hey, you! You want me to bury you!? S-Sorry. I was practicing my scares; I didn’t mean to say that to you, Prefect.”

Kalim Al-Asim - R

Unlock Card “Are you all ready to have some fun? Alright! Come on and follow my lead! One, two—Happy Halloween!”

Groovy “Grr... Pain shoots through my body whenever I look at the full moon. You better watch your back if you start to hear some howling.”

Home Setting “Growl! I’m a werewolf now.”

Home Transitions “Rook knows a lot about wildlife, and he told me all kinds of things about wolves. It was really useful.”

“I always carry around candies this time of year. This way anyone can tell me ‘Trick or treat’ anytime!”

“My magic carpet seems pretty excited for Halloween too. I’m competing with it to see who’s the scariest!”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “A party that everyone’s stoked about—that’s what Halloween is! Let’s have fun together! Growl! Growl!”

Home Taps Whine! Grrrrr! Bark! *cough!* “It’s hard trying to sound like a wolf...”

“I feel like it’d be so much more exciting if Cater, Lilia, and I dressed up for our band performances. Don’t you think so?”

“Jade said his costume is a mummy. If you wore clothes like that in the Scalding Sands, you’d get so hot that you might actually turn into one.”

“I like this costume; its design is really reminiscent of the Scalding Sands. Plus it’s easy to move in. It fits for dressing up as a werewolf.”

“Hm? You want to try scaring me? Spare me from any tricks, though. Ahaha!”

Epel Felmier - R

Unlock Card “Boo! Did I spook you? Hehe. I’ll come scare you again if you let down your guard.”

Groovy “Struggling against me is useless... I think. You won’t get away from me.”

Home Setting “Now, Halloween has begun!”

Home Transitions “Wah! Oh, crap!¹ I stepped all over my cloak. If Vil saw me, he’d get mad and say ‘It’s not proper to run around like that.’”

“I carved some of the pumpkins that are decorating the school. Mine have ghosts and our dorm’s emblem on them. Try to find them, okay?”

“Hey, have you seen the decorations on Main Street? They’re all so pretty, and really marvy².”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “I think this is the first time I’ve celebrated such a festive Halloween. In my town, the festivals feel a lot more scaled down.”

Home Taps “Halloween celebrations in my hometown are never this big, but I can promise you the food’s always delicious. I want you all to come see it someday.”

“Riddle got really passionate when we were talking about the treats for Halloween earlier. Sweets are just amazing, aren’t they?”

“I’m a first-year just like Deuce and Jack, but I wish I could scare as well as they do. But only practice makes perfect!”

“Tremble in fear! ...No. That’s not menacing enough... Ah! What if I put ketchup around my mouth?”

“Huh!? A treat? Sorry. I finished handing all mine out. But I’ll peel an apple for you later, so don’t give me a trick or anything... Okay?”

Idia Shroud - R

Unlock Card “E-E-Even I get excited for events sometimes... Is that bad!?”

Groovy “Anyone who sees what’s beneath my helmet won’t be leaving here unharmed... Hehehe!”

Home Setting “Wahaha! The Pumpkin Knight has arrived!”

Home Transitions “Every time Ortho tells me ‘Trick or treat,’ I give him some candy, but earlier he got mad and said ‘Let me have a trick too.’”

“You need to know your etiquette to have fun with events. That’s true no matter what world you’re in.”

“This time of year, they’re always having tons of huge events in gacha games. I’ve got an overwhelming lack of free time.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Weheehee~... Happy Halloween. Huh? Why are you making that face? Is it that weird to see me pumped up?”

Home Taps “Hiding my face under a helmet really lets me relax. The downside is it’s a little hard to breathe, though.”

“Wh-What are you dressing up as? Don’t tell me you’re just going to throw on something basic like a headband or a hat and call it a day?”

“They say lions are members of the cat family, but... Sir Leona is not soothing in the slightest. Hah~ I wanna nuzzle a cat...”

“You can say it. There’s no such thing as a nerd that hates Halloween!”

“Weheehee! I made this using a 3D printer, so it’s got really nice durability. ‘How much did it all cost’? Well, if you want to know, it was on sale.”

Malleus Draconia - SR

Unlock Card “Halloween is a festival observed by both the living and the dead, regardless of one’s race. You, too, should enjoy yourself as much as you can.”

Groovy “I’d make anyone tremble in fear with a single breath of fire. Watch me.”

Home Setting “I’m not dressed up as a dragon. It’s a serpentine dragon.”

Home Transitions “The students in our dorm seem very pleased with our costumes. They were all cheering with joy. This was well-worth the trouble.”

“Lilia knows a lot about many nations’ versions of Halloween. He told me stories about them instead of his usual lullabies. That was a long time ago, though.”

“I saw two pumpkin knights around campus. The smaller one was floating, so I’m assuming they were the Shroud brothers.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “I’ve experienced many Halloweens, but this year seems especially chaotic.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Trick or treat!... wasn’t it? If you don’t give me a treat, I’ll have to trick you. What will you do?”

Home Taps “The red serpentine dragons from the Far East, which our costumes were based on, could even play folk instruments. Hm... How very interesting.”

“I caught Asim practicing his wolf howls. He’s lacking on the impact, but it does have a charm to it. Heheh.”

“Halloween in the Valley of Thorns is especially grand. It’s a different take on it than other countries have, but you should come see it someday. It’s beautiful.”

“If you hear a strange noise, don’t automatically assume it’s the work of a ghost. Faeries love playing tricks all year round.”

“This tail? Mine is not an accessory; it’s real. As curious as you might be, don’t get too close. You’d be easily flicked aside if you got hit by it.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “I’ll set fire to anyone that harms your dorm, just like a serpentine dragon would. I’m fond of that place.”

Lilia Vanrouge - SR

Unlock Card “Halloween is my home ground ♪ I can’t wait to see the surprise on everyone’s faces.”

Groovy “Do not underestimate me. You might end up finding yourself trembling and unable to sleep all night long.”

Home Setting “Growl! How was that? Did I sound like a dragon?”

Home Transitions “On Halloween Night, the goblins who served the Fairy of Thorns would gather around a fire and dance all night long. You probably wouldn’t expect them to be party animals!”

“I remember the day I met a real-life serpentine dragon in the East like it was yesterday. Its crimson scales were truly a sight to behold.”

“I like eating most sweets, but marshmallows are the only ones I can’t do. It doesn’t feel like I’m eating anything; they aren’t satisfying.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Trick or treat... What? You’re already used to my tricks? Then I’ll have to bring out my trump card.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “If I were a real dragon, I could give you a ride on my back. But instead, why don’t I give you a piggy back ride?”

Home Taps “Hnn... The decorative horns on my cap are so heavy. Malleus really has these on his head at all times?”

“Aren’t my red nails cute? Vil painted them for me. He told me these were called gel nails—long-lasting nail polish.”

“Silver and Sebek used to be such crybabies. The mornings after Halloween, I’d have to spend the whole day doing laundry.”

“Have you seen Ace anywhere? He’s always eating Trey’s sweets like he really likes them, so I made some for him as well.”

“Oh, oh! It’s dangerous for someone of my stature to have a tail almost touching the ground. Try not to step on it either.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Achoo! Sorry, sorry. This peacock feather tickled my nose.”

Azul Ashengrotto - SR

Unlock Card “The Mostro Lounge is currently offering a special Halloween menu. You must come and see!”

Groovy “Let’s have all the fun we want tonight. Now, let me hear you scream all the way up to the moon!”

Home Setting “How do I look? It’s very stylish with the way it revisits the old-fashioned sort of mummy, isn’t it?”

Home Transitions “If these were my own tentacles, I could move them freely at will, but that’s not true with these bandage wraps. I have to pay close attention to my movements.”

“Of course we have Halloween celebrations under the sea. Although, unlike on land, merpeople don’t exactly wear costumes.”

“I ran into Silver with this costume on, and he yelled ‘The enemy!’ before pulling out a baton. ...He must’ve been half-asleep.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Halloween only happens once a year. Let’s have the time of our lives together.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Did I hear you say ‘Trick or treat’ just now? Offering me of all people a deal is quite bold of you.”

Home Taps “I have an affinity for the costumes Jack and the other Savanaclaw students are wearing. They look like ghosts you’d find at sea, don’t they?”

“I referenced dishes that my family serves for the Lounge’s limited edition menu... Oh, my family runs a ristorante.”

“I’ll hold back on the treats, thank you. Accepting more and more of them will only increase my calorie intake for the day.”

“The reason we chose mummies for our costumes? I’m very unfamiliar with them, which made me all the more curious. After all, you can’t have anything dry under the sea.”

“What are you in such a rush for? I understand feeling excited, but you must be discreet when getting ready to scare someone.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “You must come see Halloween under the sea sometime! It’s just as fun as the academy’s.”

Jack Howl - SR

Unlock Card “Dressing up as pirates fits for Savanaclaw, since the guys here are all brutes. When you want something, you take it!”

Groovy “On Halloween, it’s ghost territory. Make sure you be careful when walking around at night. Grr...”

Home Setting “My scares aren’t just for show.”

Home Transitions “Scarabia dressed up as werewolf ghosts. They really nailed the ears and tails.”

“When we were making jack o’ lanterns, Ruggie kept eating the pumpkin seeds. Do those taste good...?”

“The pirate costume fits Leona really well. He’s lazy and vulgar—ahem! He comes off as strong and powerful.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Happy Halloween! It’s nice with all these decorations and festive energy. Wanna walk around together later?”

Home Transition (Groovy) “I was getting tired of all these sweets, so I got some jerky. Want any?”

Home Taps “Ace and the others swear that anything Trey bakes is to die for. I wonder how his pear compote would... N-No, nevermind.”

“I used to want to be a pirate when I was little. I remember making treasure chests by myself and filling them with coins and sparkling jewels. Those were the days.”

“Pirates have to aim their cannons and do a lot of heavy lifting while onboard. They’ve got to train hard.”

“I almost never wear rings, so I’m scared these might fly off at any moment. Plus it’s hard to move my fingers.”

“Oi! Stop prodding at my costume! What’re you going to do if one of the seashells breaks off?”

Home Tap (Groovy) “You haven’t put on your costume yet? The ghosts will come to kidnap you if you don’t hurry and change.”

Jade Leech - SSR

Unlock Card “I’ve been expecting you. Today I have a most wonderful scare prepared for you.”

“We’ve been working hard to ensure that everyone can spend a wonderful Halloween.”

Groovy “The sight of you screaming as you try to hurry away... It’s irresistible. I cannot hold myself back from chasing after you!”

Home Setting “Who would like to be tied up in fear?”

Home Transitions “You want to see me when I’m frightened? Heheh. I wouldn’t mind you scaring me anytime you’d like.”

“There is no such thing as using pumpkins as lanterns under the sea. I was very shocked learning about culture on land when I was a freshman.”

“Have you had a chance to try out the Mostro Lounge’s limited edition Halloween menu? I contributed a recipe to it.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Trick or treat! Heheh. There’s no need to look so frightened; I won’t bite.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Oh, my. Were you hoping to play a trick on me? I have a treat on hand, so please spare me today.”

Home Taps “I helped Ruggie with making jack o’ lanterns. They’re very quick, cheap, and beautiful. How fitting.”

“Dryness is fatal for merpeople. If we were dried up like a mummy... Just the thought is horrifying.”

“Floyd, don’t eat too many sweets. It’s different while we’re in the water, but here we have a high risk of tooth decay.”

“The draping wraps on our costumes resemble jellyfish tentacles. They’re pretty, aren’t they? I like their asymmetrical design.”

“You seem to have a wish to join the world of mummies. First, I will wrap your whole body in bandages, and then dry you out... I’m only joking.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Halloween under the sea? If you’re interested, I will show you around one day.”

Duo Magic Jade: Azul, we cannot waste any more time. Azul: Let’s be efficient about this, Jade.

Vil Schoenheit - SSR

Unlock Card “Are you prepared to pledge yourself to me? It’s a great honor to be the sustenance of my beauty.”

“If I’m participating in this, then I’m going to aim for quality that transcends all previous Halloweens. Please keep up with me.”

Groovy “How unfortunate; there’s nowhere left for you to run. Yield yourself to me and become my slave.”

Home Setting “You will be a victim to my fangs.”

Home Transitions “Vampires, who possess eternal beauty... This is a perfect theme for me, isn’t it?”

“It would be difficult to check my appearance if I couldn’t see my reflection in the mirror. Perhaps I’d have to check with Rook between every class.”

“The other day, I was drinking tomato juice in the evening, and Epel screamed at me. How rude.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Trick or treat. Although, I don’t need any sweet treats. I’m sure you can guess what a vampire would want... Heheh.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Have you flipped your sleep schedule like a vampire’s because it’s Halloween? Make sure you don’t stay up too late.”

Home Taps “I don’t usually carry around treats with me, so last year I fell victim to Lilia’s tricks. That was honestly unpleasant.”

“You should carefully deliberate over your parasol and choose one that has strong protection from the sun. Don’t forget sunblock either.”

“Floyd’s skin is very beautiful. Makeup sits exceptionally well on moisturized skin, too. Always remember to moisturize.”

“My father is an actor, and for every Halloween he would come home in a costume with special effects makeup. I wonder if perfectionism runs in the family.”

“Even a single strand of hair out of place is something to pay mind to. Could you fix my hair for me?”

Home Tap (Groovy) “My cloak has enough cloth to wrap around a person. Should I hide you inside it if any scary ghosts come by?”

Duo Magic Vil: Let’s end this nonsense right here, Lilia. Lilia: Leave it to me to guard you from behind, Vil.

Cater Diamond - SSR

Unlock Card “I’ll fill you all the way to the bone... with fear, of course ♪”

“Aha! Are you surprised with how off things feel now? Let me show you Cay’s charm, now that I’m a touch different for Halloween~”

Groovy “You’re not thinking you’ll be able to get home safely now that you’ve dug me up, are you?”

Home Setting “Don’t you think my costume’s super aesthetic!?”

Home Transitions “The pumpkin pie Trey always makes this time of year... Mm, it’s not too sweet, and it’s sooo good~!”

“Did you see Lucius today!? He was wearing a super adorable pumpkin hat... I can’t believe Professor Trein~!”

“Sebek-kins really loves Malleus~ He’s got a reputation among the third-years for being the passionate Draconian.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Happy Halloween! How about we take a picture to commemorate?”

Home Transition (Groovy) “I have a feeling this year’s going to be the funnest Halloween we’ve ever had. You should be excited too, Prefect!”

Home Taps “I really like how our skeleton-looking laces are so elegant. Our dorm uniforms give off more cutesy vibes; it’s super different.”

“A black veil holds many mysteries... Heheh. You’re always free to lift it up anytime you want, Prefect! Just kidding.”

“Heartslabyul’s costumes last year? We were pirates! Wish you could see Cay as a pirate~?”

“The whole campus gets super festive and exciting around Halloween! And all the decorations are so photogenic.”

“Black makeup smudges easily, so you kind of need to have advanced skills to use it. Does it look okay right now? It’s not smudged?”

Home Tap (Groovy) “What are you dressing up as, Prefect? Come let me know when you have it ready. I wanna take a pic~”

Duo Magic Cater: “Jack, lend me some of your aesthetic support!” Jack: “This’ll be a breeze, Cater!”

#twisted wonderland #scary monsters #events

384 notes · View notes

xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 3 years

Text

Pawn: Eight

Bucky swallowed hard when you appeared in the doorway. You looked good. The LBD you were wearing clung to your frame in all the right ways. It emphasized a body you typically tried to hide. And it emphasized your youth. Your curves. Your money.

Things that you knew Winnifred was going to envy. Things you knew were going to get under her skin. And he could appreciate that. And the curves. He was a red blooded male and he’d be lying in that dress didn’t do something for him. Though he doubted that had been your intention. You didn’t seem that… interested in catching his eye.

And one look at his mother told him she was furious. That was also satisfying.

“I’m so pleased to officially meet everyone,” you say, after the introductions have gone round. And when Winnifred sniffs disapprovingly, you turn and smile. It’s a dazzling smile. It’s poised. Practiced. Polished. The kind of smile Bucky figured that came from a posh boarding school. If he had been younger it would have terrified him. But now it thrilled him. Just a little. He’d love to see you smile like that baring down on someone that was sitting in his office.

“It must be so hard for you, finding a mother of the groom dress that’ll be comfortable on such short notice,” you tell Winnifred. Ignoring that Steve inhaled his drink and started coughing.

“I was thinking something in white,” Winnifred said, sipping her wine.

Bucky opened his mouth to say something again but shut it with a snap when you turned to smile at her. That same intimidating smile.

“Well, if you’re going to wear white, I suppose I could change the color of my dress,” you muse.

And Winnifred’s mouth dropped open. “You wouldn’t wear white?”

“Well. I’m not a virgin so it doesn’t really matter, now does it?”

_______________

You lounge on your sofa and reach over Morgan’s shoulder to grab a handful of popcorn, munching happily.

“Sissy?” she asks, turning to look up at you, “Is this our last move night?”

“Why would it be, booger?” you ask, smiling a little and throwing a single piece of popcorn at her forehead affectionately.

“Bucky-”

“Bucky ain’t gonna tell me what to do, boo,” you tell her, throwing another piece of popcorn at her to make her giggle. “If we wanna have a sleep over, we’re gonna have sleep overs… until you get to old to want to hang out with me.”

And when she jumped on you and threw her arms around you, “I’m never gonna be too old for you,” she promised. But. You don’t say anything, you just hug her close and kiss her chubby cheeks. You don’t want her to keep growing up. You’d love to keep her this age forever. All colt legs and chubby cheeks. Your booger. But that’s not how the world works. Some day, before any of you are ready, she’ll be too old to watch Shrek 2 and sing along with the Fairy Godmother.

But for now, you’re going to enjoy it. Because all too soon, things are going to change in ways you know she isn’t ready for. And when your phone rings on the kitchen counter, it sounds almost like a death knell for life as you knew it.

Morgan scampered into the kitchen and plucked your phone off the counter, “Hello-”

She pauses for a moment and you hear, “No I’m Morgan. Y/N is laying in the living room.”

You strain your ears, trying to listen. But all you can make out is a deeper rumble. Tony? Maybe Bucky or Happy? You want to know so when Morgan hands you the phone, you put it to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, Doll,” Bucky said, “Baby sitting?”

“Movie night,” you answer, not really feeling like explaining.

“Sounds exciting,” he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke from his cigar. “No bachelorette party?”

“As much as my mom loves drag shows, Morgan is still a little too little for that,” you snort.

Bucky chuckles, “You girls feel up to coming out with me tomorrow?” He had a sense that Morgan might be the key to your good graces. And he couldn’t, at night when he laid in the bed, staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t see himself with a wife that didn’t like him. Sure. It was true. You might not love him. But. He needed to at least be your friend.

He wanted better than what his dad had had with his mom. If he learned nothing else at dinner, he learned that. Watching his mom look down her nose at you and try, time and time again to penetrate your walls and rattle you. But she didn’t. You maintained your smiling, calm composure. And it was… satisfying. He was suddenly… grateful to your mother and to Tony for doing whatever it was they had done that gave you the confidence to stand up in the face of his Mother’s acid tongue.

“What do you think, Boog, you want to get Breakfast tomorrow?” you ask.

“Pancakes?” she asked.

“Well, duh,” you tease, tickling the back of her neck. “We’ll meet you at the diner around the corner from my flat before I take Morgan home in the morning,” you tell Bucky.

“Perfect,” he said, smiling a little. “Say 9?”

“Eh, we better make it 10. We still have some movies to watch.”

“10, then,” he said, “Good night, Doll.”

And when the line goes dead before you have time to say anything you toss your phone carelessly onto the coffee table.

“Ugh, Morgan. Boys are dumb.” you sigh.

“All boys?” she asked.

“Not all boys. Papa is pretty smart. And Rhodey and Happy.”

She grinned, “So mostly just Bucky?”

“Yeah,” you snort.

She got quiet. Thinking and you let her have the quiet moment while she tried to work up the never to ask you something.

“Sissy?” she asked.

“What’s up, Boog?” you hum, turning to lay on your side and be face to face with her.

“Why do you have to marry Bucky?”

You consider your words carefully. Morgan was 8. There was only so much she knew about what Papa did for a living. All she knew was that he made a lot of money. And that Happy drove her to school and picked her up to keep herself safe.

“Papa asked me to,” you say, “As part of a business deal.”

She looked at you, scowling. “Sissy-”

“Huh?”

“You don’t love him?”

“Love- Baby that’s,” you stop and take a deep breath. “You don’t always have to love someone to marry them.”

“But daddy-”

“He knows what he’s doing,” you soothe. “I promise. Someday when you’re older you’ll understand.” But you can tell from the pout that papa is going to be in for an earful.

#Bucky x reader #Bucky barnes #Fluff #Morgan Stark #mob!bucky #Mob!Au #bucky barnes

40 notes · View notes

theleemark · 3 years

Text

christmas lights.

genre: strangers to lovers; royal au; lots of fluff

word count: 4091

pairing: prince!johnny suh x princess!female reader

synopsis: an arranged marriage between you and the prince from another kingdom whose name you didn’t even know.

warnings: language (uhh i think that is it)

a/n: hello! happy holidays and merry christmas (if you celebrate it)! i hope everyone is having a good time! this fic is for my secret santa, @notnctu!! i tried to add angst but absolutely failed :( but i still hope you enjoy it! much love to you!!

thank you for hosting this amazing event, @neoculturechristmas! this was really fun :)

“Are you fucking serious?” You crossed your arms, scoffing in disbelief.

“Does it look like I’m kidding?” Mark Lee said, leaning against your doorframe. Like all princesses (aka to-be queens), you, Princess of Astoria, had a personal knight or butler who would be by your side till the very end- and that was Mark Lee. However you and Mark became super close to the point where he was your brother from another mother.

You huffed, tugging on your blouse to adjust the way it fits your body. “Did Mother tell you that I was meeting him tomorrow? As in a couple of hours from now?”

Mark glanced behind your shoulder, checking the time. “Yes, the Winter Ball is in fact in a couple of hours. And yes, you will be meeting your future husband there.”

Your lip formed a tight smile, moving aside to let Mark into your room. He gently bowed down out of habit from greeting the other royals before sitting down on your bed. Closing the door, you rushed over and flopped right beside him.

“I think it's so stupid that I’m getting married off,” You started, staring up at the smooth ceiling.

“It’s a tradition in Astoria for the Princess to be married off once she comes of age,” Mark’s gaze lingered on you for a second before he let out a sigh. “Yeah, I guess it sucks but at least I’ve heard good things about your to-be husband. Cause some of the princes from other kingdoms are so terrible to the point where I don't even know if I can be civil around them.”

“Is that so?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeahhhh,” he stretched his limbs out and lied down next to you. “The drama I hear from the maids is very spicy.”

You let out a soft chuckle before sitting up, turning your head to look down at Mark. “I don't even know what this guy’s name is though.”

“Johnny,” Mark’s eyelashes fluttered open and shut as a small smile lingered on his face. “Johnny Suh. Prince of Neo.”

The Winter Ball hosted by Astoria was an annual event that gathered all the surrounding kingdoms. Consisting of traditional dances, games of poker, and tons of food (including a chocolate fountain), it was normal for not only noble people to attend but also people who live in the kingdoms.

Therefore the ballroom had to be gigantic- and it was. The fairy lights sprawled across the room, dangling from the ceiling like stars. Sky blue and white, Astoria’s colors, were splattered across the walls making the room feel open and inviting. Tables covered with sweets and appetizers lined the middle of the room, creating a zig-zag pattern. In the very front of the ballroom was a stage with ruby red drapes adorned with white snowflake looking crystals shining from the light.

The microphone that was front and center of that stage was where your parents would announce the news of your wedding, and just the thought of that made your stomach churn.

“Good afternoon, Princess,” a woman with soft brown eyes and silky dark hair announced. You watched her through the mirror as she moved elegantly, hips swaying slightly. “I’ll be doing your makeup for today. Is there anything in particular that you want or I should know before starting?”

As your eyes met hers through the mirror, a smile danced upon your lips before shaking your head from side to side. “Not really. Whatever you feel suits me, do it.”

“Alright,” Her smile emulated yours as she picked up your moisturizer, pumping out a bit and dotting it across your face. “Let's get started, shall we?”

“Holy shit, you look beautiful. L-like ethereal!” Mark exclaimed, wide-eyed. His grin took up the entire bottom half of his face as he saw you do a twirl. “The outfit, the makeup, the hair, everything works and makes you look stunning.”

“Thank you, Mark,” you replied giddily, gently bowing down to greet him.

Softly, you placed your hand into his and let him escort you into the ballroom that was now packed with people from a diverse number of kingdoms. Your heart was thumping and almost burst out of your chest at the thought that you would be meeting your future husband in less than a minute. Remembering what Mark said, you tried to not make any negative or super positive assumptions about Johnny- just a neutral perspective until you got to know him.

“Calm down, ____. You’ll be fine, I promise,” Mark whispered in front of a large ballroom door. “Plus, I’m only a couple of feet away from you, shout for me if you need anything.”

Opening the doors was like entering an entirely new world. Liveliness filled the room, and the smell of food wafted through the air.

However, as people noticed your presence, the casual conversation was replaced with gaping mouths and awes- The Princess of Astoria was here.

With one last look of reassurance, Mark let go of your hand and let you walk through the crowded room. Step by step, you had heads turning as you made your way up to the stage. On your way, you made sure to give everyone soft smiles until your eyes gazed over a figure in the background. Tall, with a smirk on his face and curious eyes. Who was he?

As you got up to the stage, you stood by your parents who proudly beamed down at you.

“Greetings everyone. Welcome to the 70th annual Winter Ball of Astoria,” your father, the king, said through the microphone. “This year’s ball is endearingly special because I am proud to announce that my daughter’s marriage with the Prince of Neo, Johnny Suh.”

Applause erupted throughout the room and glasses clinked from either end. Your eyes scanned the crowd to find the mysterious man from earlier, but he seemed to have disappeared.

But then he was next to you- and wow. Although you could only see his side profile, you could tell he was ethereal. His sharp jawline angled eyebrows, and chiseled cheekbones seemed to compliment his styled black hair. The suit he was wearing was expensive- a rich black adorned with a silky satin dress shirt. The watch on his wrist seemed to shine like a diamond as he briefly adjusted it before locking eyes with you.

You forgot where you were for a second.

They say eyes are the window to one’s soul, and if that is true, Johnny Suh’s is the most beautiful. The deep brown pierced into yours, and everything faded. Your attention was on nothing but him and him only. Time warped and you didn't even notice until your mother, the queen, gently tapped your shoulder.

Breaking the strong gaze between you two, a glass of champagne was passed into your hand. You raised it in the air, mimicking your mother.

“To a successful marriage filled with respect and longevity!” Your father clinked his glass with Johnny’s father, King of Neo, before also doing the same with Johnny.

You raised your eyebrows at Johnny, urging him to put his glass up to yours as well, but he just stared at you blankly before politely greeting your mother.

Withholding a scoff, you greeted both his parents with a tight-lipped smile before taking a long sip from your glass.

Let’s just hope this all goes okay.

“Look he’s hot, but he's kind of distant. Cold almost,” you blurted to Mark as you packed your bags. As to adhere to traditions, the princess must stay with the husband-to-be a day before the wedding, which was in two days.

“I mean at least he’s hot,” Mark shrugged his shoulders only to be smacked in the face with your shirt. “But seriously, I’ve heard that he's a sweetheart.”

“Okay well, I guess not with me,” You said, slightly disappointed since you didn't even get the chance to talk to him.

Mark let out a sigh before passing you a folded bathroom robe. “I’m sure once you start talking to him he’ll show more of his true nature.”

“And if it makes you feel better, he probably thought the same way about you,” Mark suggested, chuckling as he did so. “You do have a cold aura when you aren't smiling.”

“Really?” A surprised gasp left your mouth.

“Really,” Mark confirmed, reaching over to finish zipping up your suitcase. He patted it once to ensure everything was secure before placing it upright on the ground.

“Now,” he started with a grin, “have fun with your future husband.”

You rolled your eyes at him before flicking his head. “I’ll try, Mark.”

You have never been to the Kingdom of Neo before, but you could already tell it would take some time to adjust.

Neo was known for its music and weaponry- two contradicting things but also why Astoria decided to form a treaty with Neo in the form of your marriage. Astoria did have a handful of top tier blacksmiths and weaponry makers, but nothing like Neo.

In Neo, every street has at least one weaponry shop and blacksmiths scattered across the kingdoms like stars. Each with their specialty, a diverse number of weapons comes with schools specialized for each one. Neo not only has weapons, but they damn well know how to use them.

You have only been trained with a bow and arrow and a dagger, which you always keep on you. Although you are pretty damn good with it, you know that it's nothing compared to Johnny, who grew up with training his entire life.

The engine of the car turning off halted your thoughts. In front of you was a massive stone castle with a rose garden around its perimeter. Johnny stood in between his parents at the huge front doors. He had a blank expression on his face- no excitement but disappointment either.

“Welcome, sweetheart!” His mother said, rushing up to give you a tight hug. A smile automatically took over as you squeezed her back; Her happiness was contagious.

“I hope you enjoy your stay here,” His father comes and pats your back. “The wedding plans are practically done and now we just need to finalize them before tomorrow.”

You gave him a silent nod as he ruffled your hair. Looking over at Johnny, you noticed his gaze was on you guys but his expression hasn't changed. He starts coming over when he notices you looking back at him. Your heartbeat began to quicken, and you quickly bowed down to greet him.

Likewise, he bowed down and greeted you with a small, short-lived smile. “Welcome, Princess.”

Stunned by his low pitched and raspy voice, your mouth gaped before you gathered yourself together. “T-Thank you.”

Johnny turned around quickly, and you, along with his parents, followed him into the palace.

“Johnny,” his father announced. “Why don’t you give ___ a tour?”

“Maybe they’ll get to know each other a bit as well,” his mother giggled in response, looking up her husband.

“Yes father,” Johnny replied curtly, eyes shifting to your figure in between them. With a simple nod of the head, he silently asked you to follow him.

Leaving his parents behind, you quickly-paced yourself to catch up with him, walking by him, shoulder-to-shoulder.

The first place he took you to was the main room, one filled with gold adorned couches and expensive bottles of wine lining the walls. The silence was so thick you could cut it with a knife, but that all changed when he eventually showed you his room.

“Yeah, this is my room,” he opened the door, and you were greeted with a dark blue room. Scanning the area, your eyes fell on a specific poster that seemed to stir up memories.

“You listen to Coldplay?” you asked, taking a closer look at the poster hanging above his bed.

Johnny whipped his head towards you with brightened eyes and a grin on his face. “Yeah! I love them!”

Mirroring him, a huge grin took over your face. He looked so happy talking about Coldplay, and the image of his smile was now embedded into your memory. “Do you have a favorite song by them?”

“I’d say ‘Yellow’ or even ‘The Scientist’,” he replied giddily looking down at you. “What about you?”

“Hmm,” you started, fingers grazing over the bouquet of sunflowers underneath the poster. “I’d also say ‘Yellow’, but ‘Christmas Lights’ hits different during this time of the year.”

“‘Christmas Lights’ is so good!”

“I can’t celebrate Christmas without it,” you laughed back. His deep brown eyes lightened at your response.

Although the conversation was short-lived, your eyes caught a flutter of something outside.

“Hey,” you pierced out the window. “Is it snowing outside?”

Quizzically, Johnny walked over to his window. Peering over his shoulder, you saw flurries of snow coating the grass. “Yes, Princess, it is in fact snowing.”

You frowned at the way he addressed you. “You can call me ___, you know?”

“Okay, ____,” Johnny teased, but the way your name sounded in his voice just felt right. “It is snowing- and a lot.”

“Well…,” Impulsively, you grabbed his arm and pointed outside. “You want to go out? Maybe have a snowball fight? Or not, that's okay-”

“No, no, no,” Johnny interrupted, bashfully looking at your hand before meeting your eyes. “Let’s do it.”

“Just know,” he smirked, walking over to his closet and tossing you one of his coats. “I won't be going easy on you.”

“Never expected you to,” you said, putting on his jacket which was way too big on you, but kept you comfy. You zipped it up and smiled up at him, watching his once cold demeanor melt.

Maybe Mark was right.

Johnny was a master snowball fighter, and as much as you hate to admit it, he was a tiny bit better than you. Only a tiny bit.

“Are you ready to give up?” He taunted with a gigantic snowball in his hands, ready to drop it on you. You slipped on the ground a minute ago and haven't stopped laughing, so Johnny took that as defeat.

“W-wait please,” you pleaded, still in a fit of giggles as Johnny brought the snowball closer to you. “I surrender! I surrender!”

“Too bad,” Johnny shrugged and proceeded to drop it on you.

“I’mf gomma kill you!” your words were muffled by the snow, causing Johnny to erupt with laughter. Huffing, you got on your feet and chased after him, throwing snowball after snowball.

Chasing him around the front of the castle, you finally hit him with a snowball in the back of his head.

“Ouch!” Johnny dramatically stopped and turned around. “I’m so getting you back for that.”

Not being able to stop yourself you crashed into Johnny’s chest. The snow being slippery, Johnny slid backward but managing to wrap his arms around your waist, stopping you from getting hurt. His back hit the ground with a thud, and your eyes widened.

“Johnny!” Still on his chest, you looked up at him to see if he was okay. Sitting up, your right hand automatically cupped his jaw and the other lifted his head up from the ground.

“I’m fine,” A small groan escaped his lips as he rolled over on his right side, facing your body. His face melted into your touch as his eyes fluttered open to see you. “Don't worry, cutie.”

“Uh..” Your body temperature spiked, and you didn't know whether to blame it on chilly weather or Johnny calling you ‘cutie’. “L-let's go inside.”

“It is getting dark anyway,” With your right hand gripping his, you dragged him up to his feet. Johnny dusted the snow off from his pants and also dusted some off from the top of your head. The small contact made your heart flutter, and the feeling was taking over your mind.

After eating with Johnny's family, it was time for you to get some rest before the wedding ceremony tomorrow.

The maids guided you to an extravagant bathroom for you to wash up, and right after they pointed towards Johnny's room.

“Princess, you’ll be sleeping in Johnny's room tonight,” the maid said nonchalantly.

“What?” You gasped, neck-snapping to face her. “W-we're not even married yet? Is that even okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied, handing you a nightgown for you to change into. “You two will be married in less than twenty-four hours so…”

“Goodnight, princess,” she winked at you before gently pushing you in the direction of his door. “Sleep well before your big day tomorrow.”

As the maid left, leaving you stunned, you turned the doorknob to Johnny’s bedroom. Taking a step instead, you expected an empty bedroom but instead, you were greeted with Johnny in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

“I’m sorry!” you squeaked, covering your eyes and slamming the door behind you. You never attempted to imagine Johnny without a shirt, but now that you’ve witnessed the sight, you can't seem to get it out of your mind. The water dripping from his hair onto his chest, the flex of his biceps, and the toned abs made you crazy. Before you knew it, a blush settled across your cheeks and the heat seemed to fog your thoughts.

“___, I’m dressed,” Johnny calling your name broke you out of your trance. “You can come back in.”

You hummed in response, cracking open the door to see him with his arms crossed.

“Also,” Johnny grabbed a pillow from the bed and placed it on the small couch beside him. “You can take the bed, and I’ll take the couch.”

“Wait,” you said, looking at the couch and then at him. “You shouldn't have to, I can take the couch-”

“It's okay,” he interrupted, raising an eyebrow at you as he sat down.

Your mouth opened to retort back, but seeing no point you smiled at him and went to go change into your nightgown. The satin nightgown slipped over your body, and you patted down any creases.

When you opened the door, leaving his bathroom, you saw Johnny cramped onto the couch. His body was shifting, turning right and left to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Guilt surged inside of you as you watched him squeeze himself into an uncomfortable position to ensure that you weren't uncomfortable.

“Johnny?” Heart swelling with love, you gently tapped on his shoulder, causing him to shudder in surprise. “Do you want to sleep beside me on the bed?”

Johnny blinked a couple of times. “Huh?”

You pointed towards his bed with your thumb. “Join me.”

“A-are you sure? Wouldn't y-you feel uncomfortable?” He sat up, looking up at you.

“No,” You shook your head, laughing at his innocent eyes. “We can put a little pillow barrier between us.”

With his eyes, Johnny silently asked if it was really okay, and you rolled your eyes at him. You grabbed his arms and dragged him to the bed before you slipped under the covers. Taking a cylinder-shaped pillow, you placed it between the two of you before smiling at him. “Goodnight, Johnny.”

Johnny looked at you with sparkling eyes. “Goodnight, ___. Sleep well, cutie.”

And with butterflies in your stomach, your eyes fluttered shut, and sleep took over.

The morning sun beamed onto your face, causing you to grumble. Your eyes peered open, and it hit you that you were not in your usual room- you were in Johnny’s room. With widened eyes, you tried to move but an arm with a strong grip on your waist kept you from doing so.

When you turned your head to the side, you were met with Johnny peacefully sleeping. His forehead rested on your shoulder, and his breathing was steady. His messy hair sprawled across the pillow, and the arm that was not tightened around you was underneath his head.

This was a sight you could get used to every morning.

Not knowing what suddenly urged you to do so, you placed a small kiss on the top of his head before trying to squeeze out his grip. You knew Johnny was strong, but you didn't expect him to be this strong. And there was no way you would be leaving the bed anytime soon.

Sighing in defeat, you laid beside him, finger twirling a strand of his hair until he finally let out a small groan.

“Morning,” you smiled, watching his face contort in tiredness.

“Morning, cutie,” he grumbled. His morning voice was even deeper and much raspier, causing your stomach to churn. “Can we just stay like this for a second?”

“Sure,” you laughed, continuing to play with his hair as he snuggled closer to you. “What happened to our pillow barrier though?”

“Don’t know and don't care,” he mumbled into your shoulder. His hot breath tickled your skin, inciting butterflies, once again.

Before you could reply, a knock on your door interrupted the moment. “Prince. Princess. Ceremony in four hours!”

“Four hours?” you say in disbelief. “Get up, Johnny. We need to get ready.”

“But ____,” he whined, pulling you closer to him.

You rolled your eyes and flicked him on the forehead. Your heart swelled at how clingy he was. “If we're late, it's your fault.”

“That's okay!” he sighed with content, eyes still closed but a smile formed on his lips. “As long as I have you, I’m good.”

You and Johnny barely made it in time to your own wedding.

Scrambling, the maids quickly got both of you ready and pushed you out the front door and into a large room where all the people from Neo and Astoria gathered. On an elevated platform, your family and Johnny’s family both awaited your arrival. Although you and Johnny entered the room from opposite sides, both of you walked up the platform and sat on the large gold-adorned chairs in the front of the room. Everyone's eyes were on you two, but you and Johnny couldn't get your eyes off each other.

“You look beautiful, Princess,” Johnny smirked, looking you up and down. “Blue has always been and will always be such an elegant color on you.”

“Thank you, my Prince,” you replied, hiding any bashful expression that may have resulted from his comment. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

His smile grew wide, causing yours to match his.

“Welcome to the marriage between ___ of Astoria and Johnny Suh of Neo,” your father announced, patting Johnny’s father on the back. “Through this marriage, both kingdoms will form a lifelong alliance, and I am pleased to say that I am very happy about this.”

“We will start by exchanging rings,” Johnny's father said. With a snap of his fingers, two rings were brought and handed to both you and Johnny.

You put your hand out, and Johnny gently took it. His fingers wrapped around the diamond ring and, carefully, he slid it onto your ring finger. Before he let go, he placed a small kiss on your hand.

With a big grin, you took his hand in yours, sliding on the ring as well.

Everyone erupted in joy. You look over to your parents, only to see Mark, who gives you a smile along with an “I told you so” look on his face. He mouthed “congratulations” and you couldn’t help but want to give him a big hug. Your mother and Johnny's mother seemed to be holding back tears while both fathers were excitedly toasting their drinks.

Happiness oozed out of every person, which in turn made you feel so happy that you felt as if your heart would burst any second.

“Snowball fight after this?” Johnny jokingly whispered amongst the beautiful chaos that filled the room.

“We just got married and you’re thinking about having a snowball fight?” you replied, teasing him a bit to see his reaction.

“Well we could do something else,” Johnny winked at you.

You scoffed at his suggestive thoughts, lighting punching his bicep. “Hold up, buddy. You don't even know my favorite color!”

“Shit, you're right,” His eyes widened in realization before he whispered back. “What’s your favorite color?”

“White, my love,” you giggled.

“My love?” He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I think I can get used to you calling me that.”

“You should,” you retorted. “Also wanna listen to 'Christmas Lights’ after this?”

“Not a snowball fight, but I’ll take it,” Johnny chuckled before looking straight into your eyes. “Besides, I can’t say no to Coldplay.”

“And I definitely cannot say no to you, cutie.”

210 notes · View notes

sohin-ace · 3 years

Text

Doppio - Frog Princess

Fairy tale AU and lots of love for my small man.

Doppio dragged his feet across the garden, restless and desperate. He sighed and whined to himself, taking the opportunity of being all alone to voice his pain and concerns, something he was never allowed to do.

"Aww jeez... This prince life isn't made for me..."

He huffed again and tugged at his very uncomfortable, gold adorned collar that was almost suffocating him.

Doppio looked around him, sure enough, the tall trees surrounding him did a great job at hiding him from the potential workers on the castle grounds that could possibly be looking for him.

He could finally have a little moment for himself and sneak out, maybe to cry to himself a little bit.

"O-ow... That still hurts..." The boy whined and rubbed on his bruised fingers, the results of angry professors punishing him for each mistakes he made. "I'm no good, I can't do anything right..."

That's right. Prince Doppio was a clumsy and anxious boy who lacked capacity in every domain. He always tried his best and obeyed every and each order, he wasn't undisciplined, oh no, young Doppio was a good boy.

He was just bad. He hardly managed to keep the required straight stance for more than ten seconds, was better at petting the horses than at riding them, couldn't follow etiquette at all, or protocol, was extremely forgetful and sadly, mother nature did not grace him with the strongest physical traits a young man his age was expected to have.

"Tch... Trish was so popular everyone courted her and she was so easy to marry, but me... No one would want to marry a good-for-nothing like me..."

He angrily kicked some rock and held his back that cracked at the movement, in pain, squeezing his eyes shut and sobbing at the sore feeling. That last lesson of fencing went so terribly wrong, how did the others do it?

"I'm so tired... Why meee...?"

"Ribbit!"

"Huh?" Doppio was startled at the very sudden but intriguing croaky sound and approached its direction near the pond.

He couldn't see anything at first, but then a tiny little creature jumped out of its hiding place. Doppio's honey eyes widened and he quickly wiped his warm tears, crouching down towards the animal.

"A frog!" He exclaimed happily, almost like a small child, new to the world. "Hi! You're so tiny, what's your name?"

"Ribbit!"

He knew very well the animal couldn't respond to him with actual words, but just the feeling of having even a one-sided conversation soothed a bit of his loneliness down. He cupped his hands together to invite the frog in, and the animal obliged by jumping on them.

He looked down and observed the chubby little creature. It had the cutest, roundest eyes, almost sparkly in the dim forest light, its green color was so bright and homogenous, there weren't any marks or patterns that frogs usually had on their skin. Even its limbs were tiny and soft, Doppio couldn't help but pet it with one careful and shaky finger.

"O-ooh! Oh my god!" He squealed uncontrollably. "You're so squishy!"

"Ribbit ribbit!"

The quiet and high-pitched croak felt so pleasant to his ears, it meddled with the sound of the water next to him and made him feel so much at peace. He loved to hear that cute sound and how the frog's belly puffed up like a balloon with each croak.

"What are you? A boy or a girl? I'd say you're a girl because you're super pretty and have a tiny voice."

"Ribbit Ribbit! Ribbit Ribbit!"

Doppio gasped loudly. "D-did I get it right?! Oohh yes!! That's so cool! Well... Not like I would have minded if you were a boy... Or both... Wait, do frogs have genders? Oh it doesn't matter."

The young prince felt like this frog was currently the only thing keeping him sane. He had no one else to talk to, there was no one who actually cared for his own well-being and he had no friends.

The only real person to actually show him some kind of recognition and love was none other than the King Diavolo himself. But even his sweet words and affection seemed somewhat back-handed and laced with pressure and severity.

"You know, you're lucky, little thing..." Doppio started with melancholy. "You don't have to worry so much about your life... I'm bad at everything and I'm all alone... I don't know what to do..."

"Ri-rib, ribbit!"

"Even if a nice princess wanted to marry me, I would turn her down because she would deserve better... Sometimes I wish I could disappear..."

"Ribb-ribbit!"

Doppio's eyes softened on the small frog. That's how sad and pathetic he was. Talking his problems out with a frog.

"Why do I feel like you actually understand me...? Thank you for listening to me and being my only friend."

Without even thinking, he lifted the small frog and brought it towards his face, giving it the tiniest of pecks. He smiled at how weird the feeling was, the animal was cold and slightly humid, a bit sticky too which he did not mind surprisingly.

He sighed and looked up mindlessly before his eyes were suddenly striked by a blinding flash of light.

"Wh-what the hell?!"

The light flashed brighter and brighter, coming from the frog in his hands. What was going on?

Doppio could only drop the creature and shield his eyes with his arms desperately as the frog sparkled like a thousand fireflies and grew in size.

The boy squinted his eyes shut and fell back right onto his butt before he felt a strong weight pressing on him, the mass eventually pinning him down onto the ground.

"U-uughh..." He groaned and rubbed his head, a sharp headache from the harsh light hitting his sensitive eyes still slowly fading.

He looked down only for his eyes to widen like saucers. He couldn't believe what he was currently witnessing and thought that maybe he went blind from the flash and was hallucinating right now.

The weight on top of him revealed to be the figure of a girl laying unconscious. He couldn't see her face buried in his chest, but he could make out her beautiful hair, smooth skin tone and the very frilly green dress she was wearing.

And that wasn't just any dress either, the golden ornaments, the tulle, the silk, the lace, the satin... That was an expensive dress, was she...could she be... A nobleswoman? A baroness? A...

...A princess?

"A-aah..." The girl moaned quietly before pushing herself up, not without struggle and Doppio gasped.

"A-are you okay signori-..." The boy could barely finish his sentence and only mumbled open-mouthed nonsense.

He was beyond mesmerized at the beauty who had just ever-so-slowly lifted her face up to look at him. Her shining wide eyes, her innocent glossy lips, her rose dusted cheeks and her hair framing her perfect face made him believe he just stumbled into some sort of forest Goddess.

"Ah-I... U-uuhm.. Y-you...uh.. W-ah-...eh... I-I'm..." He stammered awkwardly, his brain melting like ice in summer as his face and ears burned a crimson red, his breath catching in his now dry throat.

"Ah! My stars!" The girl gasped as she hovered over the immensely flustered prince. "I am so sorry! I must be crushing you!"

The young girl fretted anxiously before trying to scramble over on her knees and straighten herself up to give the poor man some much needed space, but as soon as she did, she was hit with a wave of dizziness and lost balance again. Doppio was quick to sit up and catch her against his chest, wrapping careful arms around her.

"A-are you okay, miss? What happened to you? What's going on?" The boy asked worriedly, regaining his composure slowly.

"Ah y-yes... It's just... It's been so long since I've been glamoured..."

"You've been... Glamoured?" Doppio couldn't be more confused than this, but the girl explained further as she leaned back slightly.

Her name was Y/N L/N, daughter of the King L/N. Many years ago, she had been the victim of a curse cast by the one and only sorcerer Dio, who was overcome by fury and rage against anyone affiliated with the Joestar Empire, or those who refused to become one of his pets, casting spells after spells, and curses after curses.

"He turned me into a frog and swore to me that nobody would ever come to save me from my demise... But you..." Y/N looked up at Doppio's honey eyes and couldn't help the tears pooling at her eyes.

She was free, at last.

"I was all alone... And you came here... My savior..."

Her soft voice cracked with thick emotions and she stared into Doppio's golden eyes with soft ones, her vision blurred by warm tears. Doppio gasped lightly, moved by her story and she shyly wiped her tears.

"A-ah, forgive me! How shameful of me, to weep in front of a prince like this... I'm just.. So..."

"No, princess, don't apologize." He gently held her wrists to pull them away from her timid face. "You have the right to be overwhelmed... Nobody's here, besides... I cried too, earlier, in front of you. Nothing wrong with showing your emotions."

She sighed dreamily at his gentle words and soft touches, the now more confident boy stirring her heart. "What is your name, my prince?"

"Doppio." He gulped, stiff as a rock at her saccharine gaze and tone. "Doppio Vinegar."

"You're a good person, Doppio..." She breathed out, her words dripping with warm sincerity. Doppio's heart could only skip beats at each and every one of her actions.

The boy may be clumsy and bashful, he surely wasn't dense. He well knew he was deeply falling in love with this frog princess, but something in him told him she may not be completely disinterested in him either, despite his overall appearance and personality.

But maybe, just maybe, it was because she didn't know him enough. She didn't know this extent of his foolishness, how worthless of a man he truly was. This was the perfect opportunity for her to just push him away and run back home, only to never see him again.

But against all he could have ever expected, he was completely shaken out of his low self-esteem filled transe when he felt her leaning her delicate hands and head against his chest, closing her eyes and relishing in his warm hold still on her.

"Prince Doppio... I feel so safe when I'm in your arms... I'll forever be grateful for granting me my deepest wish..." She lifted her head just enough to look at his blushing freckled face, his mouth agape. "How could I ever reward you?"

Was she... Really serious? Nobody has ever told him they felt good around him. Nobody has ever felt safe around the small and skinny man that was Doppio. Could he be strong enough for her?

Well one thing was positive, he didn't want to let her go, and if he had to eat razor blades to protect her, he would do it without batting an eye.

She actually wanted to, or at least seemed to, stay with him. She felt grateful, for him, of all people!

He hoped she wouldn't hear his heart go feral in his chest. She would do... Anything for him? Could he be selfish? Could he ask the inimaginable? Would she say yes? He wouldn't force her but... He would love to think about himself only, just this once in his life.

He had nothing to lose.

He gently grabbed both her hands in his surprisingly big ones, squeezing gently and rubbing his thumbs over her soft skin, as if to want to imprint his love onto her.

"Ma-... Marry me, Princess Y/N!" He confessed with loud yet clear determination. "Please, be mine! I will cherish you like my most prized treasure, you will never be alone and feel unsafe again! I promise my entire life to you, please promise me yours!"

She widened her eyes at his sudden assertiveness and his strong, meaningful words. The pink boy in front of her shook her heart in so many ways, and she had already lost everything to Dio in the past. She had absolutely no reason to deny, now did she?

The girl smiled bright and slowly pulled her hands out of his grasp, only to immediately wrap her arms around her hero's neck, nuzzling her face against him lovingly.

"Yes! I accept... my sweet Doppio."

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo #jjba #writing #jojo no kimyou na bouken #golden wind #vento aureo #doppio vinegar x reader #doppio x reader #doppio vinegar #doppio #x reader #reader insert #jojo part 5 #part 5

99 notes · View notes