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flowerandblood · 8 months

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The Pearl and the Sapphire (3)

[ modern! • Aemond x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, fingering, smut, angst, sexual tension, obsession ]

[description: As a representative of a large family-owned gemstone business, Aemond is attending a major jewellery event where jewellery makers from all over the world are exhibiting. One of them is the Baratheon family. Aemond is tasked with focusing on attracting new customers, but his attention is diverted by the youngest daughter of the eminent maker Borros Baratheon. Slow burn, bitchy, possessive and obsessive Aemond, lots of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request + my sweet @valeskafics)]

A story which is an alternative universe of The Impossbile Choice taking place in modern times. The characters are all the same as in the main series, however, for obvious reasons they will behave differently and experience things differently from medieval times. You can read this without having to delve into the main series.

Series moodboard: Aemond & Miss Baratheon

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

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He had no idea what had popped into his head to suggest meeting her in this kind of place in such a direct way, embarrassment and shame got to him as soon as he entered his hotel room. He figured she surely thought he was desperate.

He decided that he would try to be professional and not to show what was hidden in his head.

He turned up at the restaurant ahead of time, informing Alys beforehand that he was going to have a meeting with Borros. He didn't want her meddling in affairs that weren't her own, and he knew that if she found out about the meeting with his daughter, she would surely pester him with messages and check when he would be back.

He sat down at a table tucked as far back as possible so as not to draw attention to himself. He waited all tense, feeling his heart pounding.

Why was he stressing so much about this meeting?

He shuddered when he heard someone's footsteps beside him and saw her above him. He swallowed loudly, seeing her black dress with a white collar, feeling with shame how his cock throbbed greedily at the sight. He stood up, not knowing how to act, how to greet her.

He felt relieved when she extended her hand to him and he shook it. He swallowed loudly feeling how soft, warm and small her hand was. They ordered wine and he started a conversation, wanting to understand why he was actually seeing her and not her father.

"My father values freedom of action. Also the choice of materials to work with. He now works with who he wants and decides for himself what is best for him. He fears that your company, with lawyers deliberating over every comma in the contract, will arrange it so as to influence his decisions as much as possible." She said, and he furrowed his brow at her words, tense.

What was she implying?

"You think we're going to try to trick your father?" He asked annoyed, and she looked at him, something in her gaze that confused him.

"Can I trust you?" She asked suddenly, and he opened his mouth and closed it, surprised and flustered.

What was he supposed to say to her?

"No." He said in accordance with what he himself thought. Seeing her hurt, shocked face he continued, wanting to explain what he meant.

"You can't trust me, just as I can't trust you. You will protect your father's interests and I will protect mine. There is no friendship in business or holding hands in the sunset light." He said with a tinge of mockery, which he immediately regretted seeing a grimace of pain and some kind of disappointment cross her face.

"I didn't know that to trust someone you had to be able to be friends and hold hands. I thought it was enough to be a decent human being." She said in a trembling voice and he pressed his lips together, feeling both rage and shame, his hand clenched into a fist.

"I'm not a decent person." He explained, not wanting to leave her with any illusions.

"Nevertheless, I have with me the terms and conditions of our company written down on paper, without paragraphs written in small print. You can look them over and determine whether you want to pass them on to your father or not." He said a little softer, sensing that something was happening to her, that his answers had broken her for some reason.

Why was she approaching this so emotionally?

His lips parted as he saw tears run down her cheeks. His heart was pounding like crazy and he had no idea what he should do.

They both flinched when her phone began to vibrate in her clutch bag. She wiped her tears quickly and pulled it out, but when she looked at the display she turned pale and shuddered, he felt like she was about to faint.

What was happening to her?

She hid the phone quickly back in her purse, looking at her hands on the table as if she had completely forgotten his presence.

"… Are you all right?" He choked out finally, horrified by her condition.

She drew in a loud breath and laughed despairingly at his words through her tears, pouring herself a full glass of wine.

"No."

She wiped her nose, swallowing quietly, trying to calm herself down.

"I'm sorry. Thank you for your honesty. Can I have these documents?" She asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

He swallowed loudly and nodded, grabbing the folder he had placed on the windowsill earlier and handed it to her.

"Go over it calmly. You don't have to rush. My grandfather really cares about this and is willing to wait and read your version of the agreement if you want to present us with one." He said in a slightly softer, calmer tone.

"All right. Thank you." She said softly. They both shuddered as her phone began to vibrate again in her handbag. She took it out, muted it and tucked it back in, her lips tightened into a thin line.

"Someone doesn't understand the word 'no'?" He asked suddenly and swallowed loudly, surprised and embarrassed by his own directness.

What right did he have to ask such things?

He saw her puzzled and confused look, and for a moment she thought strenuously about what she should answer to such a question.

"In a way." She said, grasping her glass in her trembling fingers and taking a deep sip of wine from it.

He pressed his lips together at her words and thought they both needed it.

A relaxation.

It wasn't about quick, rough sex.

He wanted something else from her, but he wasn't sure what.

"Let's move to my room." He said after a moment and pressed his lips together watching her reaction, she threw him a surprised, horrified look. "We can think together about what to answer to a man who won't let you alone."

Say yes, he thought.

I'll give you everything.

He felt a wonderful heat of satisfaction surge through his body as she nodded her head.

They drank what they had in their glasses to the end, then rose from their chairs. He took the half-full bottle in his hand, recognising that they might still need it. They headed for the lift without looking at each other, as if they were both ashamed of what they were doing.

They rode in silence to his floor and started down the corridor. He prayed that Alys wouldn't come out of her room, he didn't feel like explaining himself to her. He quickly put his card to his door and opened it, letting her in, looking around and finding to his relief that no one had seen them.

He walked in behind her and closed the door, turning on the hall light, pulling off his leather jacket and boots. She also pulled off her shoes and put them next to him, then stepped deeper uncertainly, looking around.

His room was actually an apartment with a view of the city, couches in the middle and a huge TV, a large double bed to his left. He saw her glance at it out of the corner of her eye and swallowed quietly, he felt his cock pulsate painfully hard in his trousers.

There was no way this was going to end well, he thought.

Still, he never felt better.

He moved to the kitchenette and reached two glasses from the shelves, feeling a pleasant heat in his stomach. He knew it wasn't just the effects of the alcohol.

He turned, walking to the small table opposite the sofa, placing the glass on it, seeing that she was still standing in the same place, terrified.

She was afraid he was going to do something to her.

That he would add something to her drink.

"What does he want from you?" He asked, wanting to relax her, to distract her from her worrying thoughts.

She blinked and lowered her gaze, embarrassed, coming shyly closer, her scent reaching his nose again. She sat down on the sofa and he sat beside her at the other end of it, keeping his distance, wanting to give her the feeling that he would not do anything against her will.

He saw that with a trembling hand she had taken her phone out of her clutch bag and unlocked her phone. She began to read the messages she had apparently received and pressed her lips together, tucking her mobile into her bag again.

He saw that she had shut herself in and was breathing anxiously. She swallowed loudly and looked at him finally. He felt a shudder pass through him at her words.

"Question for question."

He tapped the inside of his cheek with the tip of his tongue, wondering whether to agree. She could end up asking him something he didn't want to talk about at all. He decided, however, that it might be interesting and he would have a chance to learn more about her.

He nodded, leaning over and pouring them the rest of the wine from the bottle. He heard her sigh quietly.

"My ex-boyfriend wanted to be my friend. Months later, when I finally got myself together, he now decided he had made a mistake. That maybe we should get back together after all." She said with resignation, reaching for her glass.

He felt discomfort and a tightening in his stomach at the thought that she had been with someone before, at the thought of some men before him touching her.

That this men, this idiot, who left her wanted to take her for himself again.

"You and the woman you were with at the banquet. Are you two together?" She asked uncertainly, taking a sip of wine, leaning against the sofa, settling herself comfortably, looking at him expectantly. He pressed his lips together, looking ahead, raising his glass to his lips.

"No."

It wasn't a lie.

"Why did you break up?" He asked immediately and felt her move next to him uneasily. She swallowed loudly, pulling her legs up to her thighs, changing position.

"He wanted to have some more fun." She said quietly, as if in shame, and he cast her an anxious glance, feeling a strange tightness in his throat. He wanted to say something, but she pre-empted him with another question, from which he froze.

"Are you sleeping with her?" She asked without even looking at him, her gaze directed to her glass, which she held in her hands.

He felt his heart start pounding hard. Her question felt like a realisation of what he was doing, a realisation of who he really was. He thought there was no point in deceiving her, that she deserved at least to be completely honest with her.

"Yes." He said, immediately taking a deep sip of wine, unsure if he could bear her reaction.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and saw that she had swallowed with difficulty, sleepiness and fatigue on her face. She finally lifted her gaze to his, despite the fact that what he had said had clearly struck her, he could see no condemnation or disgust in her eyes. She parted her lips slightly as if struggling with what she was trying to say.

"Why did you want us to come here?"

Silence.

He stared at her feeling the artery in his neck pulsing hard, his heart pounding like mad, his member throbbing in his trousers. He was ashamed of how obvious his desire was and didn't know what to answer. The longer they looked at each other, the more uncomfortable and vulnerable he felt.

"You can say it. It's okay." She said softly, gently, and he felt heat spilling over his lower abdomen, his throat tightening as if in pain. There was something tender, reassuring in her voice, as if she understood him.

She was not judging.

"I want it." He whispered almost silently, his lower lip trembling as he spoke the words.

She pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze, as if his words intimidated her, though he didn't believe she hadn't expected them. He thought she would tell him that she couldn't, that she had just ended a relationship and didn't want to spend the night with a stranger whose private life was one big mess.

He twisted in his seat as she set her glass down on the table and moved closer to him, sitting in front of him on her lap. She took his hand in hers, and he shuddered when he felt her thumb run over his skin.

For a moment he didn't know if he should move or do anything, his gaze fixed on their hands, her touch gentle, safe, respectful. He set his glass down on the table and looked at her. He took her soft cheeks in his trembling hands.

For a moment they both just looked at each other breathing unevenly, asking each other wordlessly for permission. They leaned towards each other and their lips touched tentatively, her lips puffy and moist, sweet from the wine and her scent.

They both sighed quietly, gently sucking and licking their lips with a wet click, he purred contentedly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He wandered his nose over her soft face, his one hand tentatively sliding down to her thigh, his fingertips trailing over her skin.

He felt shivers run through her, her hands holding him tightly.

He wasn't sure if this was really happening or if it was just his imagination.

His face slid up to her ear, surrounding her cheek and neck with his hot, aroused, erratic breath.

"I want to taste you." He whispered. She drew in a loud breath and trembled all over, clasping her hands in his hair.

He looked at her, her cheeks were flushed, her parted lips red from alcohol and lust, she stared at him with a warmth from which he felt hot in his chest.

"Will you let me?" He asked softly and she nodded shyly, embarrassed by what they were both doing, what they both wanted.

He murmured contentedly feeling his heart pounding, his hands involuntarily sliding down to the thin material of her panties. Wanting to help him, she lay on her back, looking at him with her lips slightly parted, her whole body quivering with emotion.

He couldn't believe that this was really happening.

He slid them slowly down her thighs, watching her face the whole time, wanting to be sure she hadn't changed her mind. She swallowed loudly and pressed her lips together, placing her hands on either side of her head, looking at him pleadingly.

She pleaded him not to hurt her.

He leaned over her, grasping one of her thighs in his hand and pressed his lips to her skin in a gesture of devotion, of desire, of tenderness. He had never treated Alys like this, never felt the need to do so, knew that she just wanted him to fuck her.

But he knew that she now placed her trust in him, and even though she knew he was not a good person, all she wanted was for him not to take advantage of her weakness, not to make her regret it.

His lips with sticky, loud kisses slid lower and lower leaving wet marks on her skin, he felt her breathing quicken, her body trembling in his hands. With a soft, sure movement, he pulled her down so that he had her in the perfect position, lifting her dress up slightly, looking at what was underneath.

"− fuck −" He exhaled, involuntarily running his finger over her entrance, seeing the state she was in, already soaking wet. He heard her squirm softly, surprised by this sudden gesture, her whole body tensed and breathless.

"− you're leaking −" He said delightedly, feeling that from the mere sight of her juices running down her buttocks onto his couch he had become completely hard.

She really wanted it.

She moaned helplessly, sweetly, trembling all over under his touch, as if she was trying to escape from him and at the same time wanted to feel him harder. He ran his thumb over her clit, massaging it in circular, slow motions, spreading her wetness, holding her thigh with his other hand so that she could not move away.

She mewled, tilting her head and he licked his lips involuntarily, seeing how sensitive she was, how his slightest touch drew out reactions from her that made him hot, even though he hadn't done anything to her yet.

"− what made you so wet? − hm? − messages from your ex? −" He asked teasing her, breathing loudly, the tip of his middle finger slipped inside her hot insides and her body arched backwards, she sobbed quietly at his words.

"− answer me −" He said coolly, looking down at her, watching her beautiful, gentle face, all red with exertion and arousal, her lips parted and swollen, her chest rising and falling restlessly, her gaze hot, thirsty, fixed only on him.

"− no −" She mumbled with difficulty, trembling all over, her hands clenched into fists. He hummed with satisfaction at her words, his finger slid in and out of her with a wet click of her juices.

"− maybe we can find the answer to that question together − what do you think? −" He cooed, putting out his finger, gripping her thighs in his hands, spreading them wider, leaning over her. He heard her drew in air loudly feeling his hot breath on her womanhood.

She arched her back and whimpered when the tip of his tongue ran over her sticky entrance.

"− I fucking knew it −" He growled out, pressing his nose against her clit, his tongue slipped deeper, involuntarily wanting to taste her more, her moisture spreading over his palate like the sweetest juice. "− I knew you would taste wonderful −"

He felt her hands clench in his hair, pressing him closer, her thighs trembling in his arms, sweet moans of pleasure erupting from her lips after each of his slightest touches.

Never before in his life had he been so aroused, so thirsty, filled with such tenderness and desire.

His tongue slid in and out of her with a loud, wet click, licking her more and more boldly, concentrating on the hidden point just at her entrance from which spasms passed through her. He groaned throatily when he felt her hips involuntarily begin to respond to his movements, seeking fulfilment.

He heard her sigh of surprise when he abruptly stopped, trailing his lips between her folds and her clit, teasing her only with his hot breath.

"− so − what made you so wet? −" He asked teasingly, waiting for her answer, once in a while tip of his tongue run over her entrance, driving her insane. He heard her swallow loudly, her hands stroking his hair, holding him close.

"− you −" She whispered in a trembling voice so quietly that he barely heard it. A dangerous grin full of satisfaction spread across his face.

"− I can't hear −" He murmured, teasing her, trailing his moist lips over her hot flesh.

"− you − please − ah! −" She moaned loudly, parting her lips wide and clenching her eyes shut, her body arching as his tongue suddenly slid between her folds again, moving quickly and intensely inside her, rubbing her where she needed it.

"− that's fucking right −" He hissed out between caresses, sinking his face deep between her thighs, eating her like a starved man, the only sounds in the room were her loud moans and the sticky, perverted clicks of his saliva mixed with her moisture. He felt her walls begin to pulsate around him and he knew what that meant.

"− Aemond − oh god −" She mewled, and then suddenly her whole body went breathless and tense, a loud, helpless sob escaped her lips.

She tried to push him away from her as the orgasm violently shook her body, but he held her thighs in his hands, not letting her move away one bit, licking devotedly everything that flowed out of her.

He rose at last, wiping his chin and mouth with his hand, looking at her with satisfaction. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted slightly, her cheeks and lips red. Her face had an expression of bliss and serenity, her hands placed idly on either side of her head.

She looked so innocent.

He looked down at her, slowly undoing the button of his trousers and unzipping his fly; she heard it and threw him a quick, uncertain look.

"You still want this?" He asked lowly, looking her straight in the eye, leaning over her, placing his hands on either side of her head. She swallowed loudly, looking at him uncertainly, and then nodded.

"Are you taking pills?" He asked, brushing his lips gently over the skin of her cheeks, wanting to remember this feeling, her hands stroking his face so tenderly, the touch of her fingers so gentle that he felt himself melting.

She shook her head, looking at him with shame. He hummed under his breath and kissed her forehead.

"It's okay. Come here." He murmured, grabbing her in his arms and getting up from the couch with her. Only then did he feel the wine humming pleasantly in his head, she seemed surprisingly light.

He set her down on his bed and reached his hand to the bedside table, pulling a packed condom from one drawer. He saw the look on her face, her eyes big, her lips parted in an accelerated breath.

She swallowed loudly as he lay back between her thighs sliding his trousers and his boxers down a little. She looked away seeing his throbbing, swollen manhood.

With a sure, light movement he put the condom on and grasped her cheek with his hand directing her gaze back to himself.

"Look at me. At what you've been doing to me since I saw you." He said spreading her thighs, her breathing sped up suddenly at his words. He leaned over her, licking his lips, feeling his heart pounding like crazy with arousal, directing the tip of his member to her entrance.

He had never wanted so much to be inside any woman before.

"Already during the show I was wondering how to get you into my bed. How tight and hot you must be inside." He murmured, hearing her breathing get quicker and quicker. They both moaned loudly as he slid into her a little, her walls clenching against him greedily.

"− fuck −" He breathed out, with another intense thrust entering her fully, feeling how warm she was, her body leaning back, tasting how much he was filling her tight insides.

He couldn't stop himself, her core was too pleasurable, too warm. Involuntarily he began to move his hips, sliding into her with ease thanks to the wetness from her earlier orgasm.

"− oh, baby −" He exhaled, speeding up, entering her with a loud, wet slap of flesh against flesh, looking at her gentle face on which dreamy delight was painted.

He was surprised to find that they both began to pant loudly, looking at each other with a kind of helplessness, feeling that they needed each other, her hand drew him close and their foreheads touched, her hips tentatively beginning to respond to his movements.

They kissed once, then again and again, uncertainly, slowly, as if they were unsure whether it was too intimate gesture. There was a tenderness and care in their soft, swollen lips that he wouldn't have suspected himself of, he'd never done it this way with Alys, never enjoyed a woman's body in this way.

"− my sweet girl −" He breathed out, moving faster and faster inside her, thrusting into her with all his strength, a whimper escaping her lips, her walls tightening on him steadily.

"− you like it when someone takes care of you, don't you? − when someone fucks you properly −" He gasped in a trembling voice, and she sobbed loudly, struggling to get the confirmation out of her throat.

He tightened his hands on her hips, her fingers entwined in his hair holding him close. He was looking down at her with parted lips, moaning and panting with her, feeling that he wouldn't last much longer, her legs entwined around his waist.

"− I'm gonna cum now, okay? − I'm gonna cum inside my sweet little girl −" He exhaled, and she nodded, shuddering beneath him all over.

"− oh, yes, please −" She mewled and moaned loudly as he slid his tongue into her lips, his hand sliding down to her swollen clit teasing her with his thumb, his cock rubbing against the point hidden inside her with each brutal thrust.

They both moaned low into each other's mouths feeling the orgasm shake their bodies, their hot, loud breaths surrounding their faces, their hands clenched painfully tight on each other in fulfilment.

"− yes − god, yes −" She whispered sweetly, writhing beneath him, giving herself over to the pleasure she was experiencing with him.

He kissed her feeling a wave of pleasure shake him, he felt an immense, overflowing relief, he purred and panted into her throat holding her to him tightly, her walls clenched against him greedily.

Never before had he felt so fulfilled, so at peace.

They both shuddered and looked at each other horrified when they heard a loud knock on his door. He felt his heart pounding at the thought that Alys had heard what they were doing while she was looking for him.

"Aemond? What the fuck? Who the fuck are you in there with?" She asked in a raised, angry and broken tone. His lover looked at him with terrified eyes, her lips quivering with despair. He shook his head wordlessly telling her to be quiet.

"Aemond!" She shouted, slamming her fists against the door, pulling on the handle, however without his card there was nothing she could do.

He lay on top of her feeling her trembling and embraced her, kissing her neck, stroking her head, closing his eye.

"You fucking bastard! Are you fucking this little girl? This little slut? God fucking damn you! How could you do this to me!" She whined and he heard her loud sobs.

He felt how she began to sob quietly in his arms, terrified and shaken, and he embraced her tighter, kissing her temple, letting her snuggle into him, wanting to protect her from what was happening. He heard her quiet, broken whisper.

"What have we done?"

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Taglist 1

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @tempt-ress @ahristata @menaosama @queenofshinigamis @dark-night-sky-99

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haunted-moon · 4 months

Text

Long Way Home [Part VII]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here.

Read Part 2 here.

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here.

Read Part 5 here.

Read Part 6 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part VII

My mind was still fighting the wine induced muddle, trying to grasp the fact that Azriel was really here. My body though, acted on a reflex. I had repacked the basket, rolled the mat and was out of the clearing before he opened his mouth to speak. I heard nothing but the gush of blood into my head, and I quickly went inside and locked the door of the main entrance.

I didn't know what to think. Azriel had come here. He had come to a place which was unknown to everyone but me and father.

The mat and the basket slipped from my hands and thumped on the wooden floor. The cloak was halfway down my shoulders as I pressed myself against the door, parting the curtain of the window adjacent to it to see if he was outside.

He was.

There was a verandah extending from the front door with a wrap-around porch. The roof over the verandah was held upright by two carved pillars, and Azriel was sitting down and leaning back against one of them. His head was turned the other way, watching the stars still falling.

His usual leathers were absent; in their place was a black shirt and pair of black trousers. The buttons of the shirt glinted in the light like gemstones. His hair was ruffled, silver jewellery adorned his neck and hands. He was the still the most beautiful fae I had ever laid my eyes on, and the mating bond within me flared to life for a moment and tugged painfully.

I wanted nothing but to open the door, walk out and hold him.

The sensible part of me held me in check. Even though he was supposed to be my mate, he had given me nothing but pain until now, and I couldn't let go of it that easily. I clamped down on the bond, let the curtain fall back and went upstairs to my bed.

The entry of my room's balcony was set with French windows, and its curtains were always parted to let in the scenery. The sky was still lit, but fading as the event was coming to an end. This was the second time since that night when I cried myself to sleep.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The next day, I found a note on the kitchen table. It was my father's handwriting, with two words on it.

I'm sorry.

Well, that solved the mystery of how Azriel came to know about this place. It didn't matter. I was not angry. I was not sad. I was empty, tired. The spark of feeling in me had withered and I had no idea how to revive it.

In the days that followed, Azriel made a habit of lingering. I noticed him flying in at dusk, possibly after finishing his duties. He never imposed himself on me, he was just...there.

As I moved inside, he followed from outside. The porch around the villa had a thick, low wall for comfortable seating which he took advantage of. Every room I was in the ground floor, I could see him out the window, seated on the porch wall. He was in his usual leathers and cloak, and I could see the dim light emanating from his chest and the back of his hands. His head was always turned the other way, as if he was looking out, but I knew he watched me when I wasn't looking at him.

I let him be. I didn't want to talk to him, let alone argue and send him away.

He perched on the balcony wall when I was in my bed, and the only room he couldn't look into was the bathroom. However, I could see him from the window, on the porch railing directly underneath it.

As it was, he was comfortable. He had his cloak to protect himself from the cold, and I'm sure he ate during the day.

He was waiting for me to willingly let him in. And for that, I hoped he had the patience of a saint because this wasn't going to be easy.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Tags:

@kalulakunundrum @thelov3lybookworm @hnyclover @impossibelle @sourapplex @brujitafantomatico @venuseuripedis @darling006

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 8 here.

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

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cosmicisms · 11 months

Text

zhongli drabble

gn!reader

synopsis: you get a kamera and zhongli basically commandeers it.

warnings: comfort to angst, no happy ending (sorry) and spoilers for zhongli’s identity.

author’s note: man :(

when you bounded up to zhongli holding a strange device in your hands, he knew he was in for an treat. the object you possessed was called a “kamera”, and you explained to him how it could capture any real-time moment and turn it into a picture.

zhongli had seen all sorts of inventions and contraptions throughout his life, but never had he heard of such a phenomenon as a holding a real moment in your hands before.

when you presented your boyfriend with the first picture you snapped of him, he was temporarily lost in awe. that was him, right there, in his own hands! he was blown away, and immediately wanted to explore this kamera more.

you almost regretted lending him the kamera, as zhongli took a strong liking to it. you hardly had the chance to use the kamera that you were given! not only that, but zhongli developed the habit of taking pictures of you when you’d least expect it.

such as when you woke up first thing in the morning, with your tussled hair and bleary eyes. or when you happed to be eating and were in the middle of unceremoniously devouring your meal. zhongli would just whip the kamera out and grab a photo of you.

embarrassed, you had demanded he throw away the photos, but he had shook his head and insisted you looked beautiful. there was never a bad picture of you in his eyes.

he didn’t always take these kinds of pictures, much to your relief. he had soon become an exceptional photographer, learning how to utilise light and angles to capture the most exquisite photos of you possible.

soon, he had filled pages upon pages of photo albums with pictures of you, and he was steadily running himself into debt with all the camera film he was purchasing.

he couldn’t help it! you were the most wonderful work of art in his eyes, and he didn’t want to rely on just his memory to preserve these moments with you in his mind. zhongli knew from experience, that memories dulled and eroded over time. not even the mind of a god was able to prevent this cycle.

but this kamera and these photos, they were truly something else. sometimes, you’d catch zhongli staring at the photos, amber eyes enraptured by your smiling form on the slip of paper.

zhongli loved dressing you up for mini photoshoots, his boss at the wangsheng funeral teasing him about how he should quit from his current position to become a full-time photographer. you had spotted the look of consideration in his eyes, quickly shutting the idea down.

“i think your job now is more stable than photography, zhongli.” you said with a chuckle. “we need the money to pay for all that film you’re buying.”

“i suppose you’re right, my dear.” zhongli hummed and gave you a sheepish smile. “fine art should always be appreciated, however.”

you adored zhongli’s newfound love for photography, even if the main focus was on you. you loved entertaining his photoshoots, you loved watching his eyes light up when he snapped the perfect (he considered them all to be perfect) photo of you, and you loved flipping through the many photo albums and scrapbooks he had put together, you yourself wanting to take a picture of zhongli’s soft smile.

and now even when you are gone, zhongli still looks at those pictures. he isn’t afraid of them, and he hasn’t chosen to banish them from his life. he continues to let them remain in his mind and in his heart.

zhongli flinches as a tear stains a photo. when had he started crying? he looked at the picture again, recognising it as the one he had taken during your honeymoon. the one where you held a bouquet of glaze lilies to your chest while adorned in the finest garments liyue had to offer. he had really gone all out for that one, hadn’t he?

he took in every little detail of the picture. the golden gemstone necklace you adorned with the matching bracelet and earrings, the way the soft breeze had ruffled your hair slightly, and how your eyes were brighter than any star in the sky. zhongli was certain that he’d never take a picture more perfect than that.

“zhongli!” you had complained, motioning for him to come over. “i thought i hid that from you? forget about the kamera for a moment!” zhongli relented with his photos and kneeled next to you, pressing a kiss to the ring that now adorned your finger. “my apologies, love. it appears you’ve stunned me with your beauty once more.”

you had giggled and kissed him, holding him close as you celebrated this new chapter in your lives. one where you were bound by a contract of eternal love.

“oh, my dear.” the voice of a former god rumbled throughout the empty house. “if only i could see you again.” he swiped his thumb over your picture. “if only i could feel it again.”

zhongli flipped another page of the album, his tea long gone cold with no one else to drink it with him, and your chair empty from across the table. it was lonely without you…

#✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮ genshin #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x yn #zhongli x gender neutral reader #zhongli genshin impact #genshin impact #zhongli angst

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shenzaibird-art · 2 months

Text

Sooo I watched all four days of Crufts this past weekend and was possessed by the urge to draw various dog breeds. Child me would be so proud. (I still have the book of dog breeds I was obsessed with as a kid, and I still have an old little paper inside it with a list of dog breeds I wanted to draw... and pretty much all of these were there) Info about all of these people under the cut thingy:

Brelyn: A Grand Augur of necromagic. Probably will replace Morrok as Sellatrix's master and head of their team because I like her. Gentle and easygoing, likes to see innovative projects, hence her being okay with taking Verloren into her team. A powerful mage, much more deadly than she looks. Might be a witch as well or at least respect witchcraft. (Rip Morrok the owl, didn't even get a chance to exist and was already replaced, I might reuse the concept for another char or smth) Silverstrand: Was supposed to be a Grand Augur of necromagic but he has SUCH a geomage vibe that I'm not sure anymore. Either way, he's very serious and strict, and prefers things done "the right way" rather than experimental weird stuff. Basically the opposite of Brelyn a bit. If I make him a Grand Augur of geomagic, then he might be head of Lazuli's team. One of the king's most trusted Grand Augurs, warned him that exiling Verloren was a terrible idea (but got ignored anyway). King Harlin Devandell III of Houndsdagger: Proud and stubborn, likes to show off his power and skills. Grew up hearing that his mother the Queen never did enough, so he tries to do too much. Doesn't know much about magic and severely underestimates it. Ended up killed when Verloren didn't take being exiled very well. Wasn't too old, probably just a bit older than Verloren, so not even 50 yet when he died. Pommie: Finella's personal maid since she was a teenager. Very kind and caring, often felt more like a mom to Finella than her real mother. She's a household-wizard (someone who helps with trivial magic tasks, such as preparing baths with warming crystals and fancy fur potions or lighting up light orbs around the house) and taught Finella some basic magic when she asked her. The only one of this batch that I actually already had a full concept of for a while, even the breed, I just hadn't drawn her yet. Nivenyr: One of Sellatrix's witch friends. He's from the village and not related to the castle or any noble business. He works as a mage, making spells and stuff that he sells in his little shop. Somewhat cryptic. Possibly younger than he looks, I have no idea what's his age yet really. Might be more fit for my other setting that's about edgy emo witches (I mean he has emo hair even on his hands) but I'll try to keep him in this setting because Sella can't be the only witch around. Lazuli: A geomagic augur, friends with Finella. Calm and collected, she doesn't say much but judges everyone silently. Kinda tired of everyone's crap but tries to be non-violent, despite sometimes wishing she could kill some people. Her parents were jewelers and when she learned she could do magic with crystals and gemstones, she became a geomage and also learned to make art with magic crystals. Cyrus: A phytomagic augur. Extremely average guy. Obnoxious with his hate of necromagic. Was married to Finella at one point and he constantly tried to prove her how phyto is so much better than necro (Finella is a necromage, she just tried to ignore him when he went on a rant). When Verloren took over, Cyrus was among the phytomagic augurs who tried to ambush him and take him down, and was defeated and killed like all the others. Finella had mixed feelings about the incident. There were more people I wanted to make, like a pumi guy that I couldn't settle on a design for, and a girl that'll be either a papillon or a spaniel of some kind. But yeah I love dogs.

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tobiasdrake · 3 months

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Back to work. There are ingredients to gather.

Something about this place has a very Trials of the Elder Mist vibe to it. I wonder if the Ovates created him too?

I said back on Watcher Island that I love light puzzles.

I stand by that. Light puzzles, block puzzles, I'm a sucker for the classics.

Looks like this will be our key to shattering those blue crystals. I'll need to make a note to go back to the Moorlands with it. Betcha there's a Rainbow Conch behind that wall.

Huh, Coral Hammer got an upgrade. Now it can do more than make squishy paps against giant bells! It can also shatter gemstones.

Not from its hardness but because of its frequency.

It kinda looks like those heart cores that Dwellers leave behind when they die. Garl said we're supposed to put it in a bottle?

Oh. Right. Of course the alchemist knows how to bottle wind.

...but that's not the method Garl had in mind, because he wasn't expecting TIA to help us. I genuinely wonder what he expected Zale to do.

Meanwhile, on Team Serai:

I shouldn't be surprised that Hortence also knows how to conjure the Ruler of Tides. She knew Stormcaller for centuries.

It does not look happy to see us again. You think it's mad that we killed its undead bestie?

Its beak looks like a fountain pen. I wonder if it can write with that? Does its body produce ink that it can then press into surfaces to form its own Hydralion language?

I dunno. What i do know is that Bird > Seahorse

There's something very familiar about the concept of an eagle carpet-bombing an enemy target over a grudge that's really just a pretense for seizing control of a valuable resource. Something... recognizable in terms of symbolism. I can't quite place my finger on it though.

YEAH HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT ASSHOLE

My charred flesh has been avenged. Thank you, Serai. That was incredibly cathartic.

Fucker will think twice before he starts shit again. ...I mean, we started this shit. But that's how it goes. You and your bros jump the asshole in the parking lot to teach him to not start other shit.

Honestly, I don't know what crawled up his ass and died. We gave him an immaculate pearl and he wanted to fight about it? Seems to me that the Hydralion's just a prick.

Serai got the most manually intensive job of the lot. Hers has a second step attached to it, plus transporting all of those crops.

Things are going well with Garl and Malkomud. It's a huge ask, but someone of Malkomud's talents is perfect for the job.

I thought Malkomud was the person whose heart Garl would heal but it turns out it's the Sleeper. But, in a way, it's still also Malkomud. Kind of a one-two punch of healing there, giving Malkomud an incredible project to make him feel valuable by solving his people's greatest ordeal.

Aww, he has so much faith in me. ^_^

Even after I cost him his eye. ._.

...and got him mortally wounded. T-T

But I suppose it doesn't matter because the task I've been given has nothing to do with my questionable judgment skills! Garl has asked me to do violence. If there is one thing I'm confident in my ability to do, it's violence.

Who built these staircases? Because their presence here implies sentient civilization once occupied this volcano. Did the lava monster take this place from the Ovates? Is it an Ovate elemental experiment gone wrong?

I wonder if Teaks knows anything about the lava monster?

Resh'an is probably fine because he's an immortal undead being. No idea how I'm handling the intense convection. Maybe my lunar powers give me super-cooling.

That is a rock. I'm gonna be so mad if the oh-so-hyped-up lava monster is just a mini-volcano rock spewing magma. I was promised a fight against a living creature, not a geographic feature.

I mean, now that I say it like that, I would be willing to fight the volcano itself if--

Oh. No. There we go. That's much more of a "lava monster".

But not by much. Don't know what those Cloud Giants were worried about because this guy didn't have shit. Though, admittedly, it would have been a lot harder without Resh'an having my back.

There you go, Garl. One last spontaneous outburst of overwhelming violence for the road, to see you on your way.

Apparently Teaks's part of the plan was telling the story of everything that's transpired to the people of Mirth. Garl didn't mention that, but it's correct nonetheless.

For Garl.

#sea of stars #drake plays sea of stars #for garl

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chewyjellycable · 3 months

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Looks at you. You should totally talk about cream cheese cookie /nf

GRIPS YOU BY THE SHOULDERS. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I'VE WAITED TO TALK ABOUT MY THEORIES CREAM CHEESE TEA!!! /REF

Some of this is retconning old lore from when I just made them just to make them. But NOW I have thought about them a lot more.

Cream Cheese Tea is Genderqueer who has absolutely no concept as to what gender is supposed to be. They use They/It/He/Her, all being interchangeable and with other pronouns (along with Neos) also acceptable.

Cream Cheese Tea is called "Cheesy" for short, which also happens to be an affectionate name given to them by many that they interact with. They tend to have this charm to them even in their civilian attire.

Their phantom thief identity's name is "Spectre Brew", who takes after Phantom Bleu's antics in stealing from those too rich to know what to do with their belongings and making extravagant shows out of their displays. Their specialties include jewelry and other precious objects (though gemstones are typically included in 'precious objects').

Cheesy was adopted into Earl Grey and Roguefort's family from a very young age. They were rambunctious and a bit egotistical as a child, which was rough for both Earl and Rogue.

Thanks to Earl Grey they're technically a Cookie of Darkness. Earl doesn't let Cheesy get anywhere close to the rest of the CoD, though Chess Choco is permitted since they're all his children and deserve to have socialization.

That being said, Cheesy has always been terrible at chess. Thankfully, the twins are willing to teach them so that they have yet another skill to show off and look so suave and charming in their civilian downtime.

Cheesy found out about Rogue's life as a phantom thief around Cookiesmas when Phantom Bleu wound up in the same house as Cheesy, who at the time was hanging at a rich friend's home. Though Rogue tried to proclaim that they were Santa, Cheesy knew who it was very easily, and one of the ways to keep their kid's silence was by letting them become a phantom thief themself.

Both Earl and Rogue are incredibly proud of Cheesy's skills as a phantom thief, though Earl is very paranoid about something happening to them while they're out thieving... and both wish that they would stop being so obsessed with being charming outside of their phantom thievery.

They have a sometimes talked about relationship with Bredele de Cassonade. Their 'ship' name is CassoCheese. :]

Langue de Chat and Cappuccino DESPISE Cream Cheese Tea. Both aren't a fan of Spectre Brew since they're way too similar to and have worked with Phantom Bleu. And in Langue's case, they aren't too keen on having their brother dating someone that reminds them of someone they had to put their budding career on the line for.

Their pet is Goratzola (gorgonzola pun), a rat who loves to get into trouble and go snooping for things in places it shouldn't go into! Thankfully Earl lets this rat stay since there doesn't seem to be any others in the walls of his home... Plus, so long as it's well-fed and cared for by Cheesy, Earl sees it as a good way to teach responsibilities.

The hat in their thieving outfit DOES have actual tea inside of it. How does it not spill out when they're performing so many tricks and swift motions that would certainly spill any normal cup of tea? A thief never reveals their secrets. <3

Thanks to their parents, Cheesy knows just a little bit of Light Magic, Dark Magic (both from Grey), AND Moon Magic (from Rogue). Though it's not used very often due to how draining and unpredictable magic can be for them, it never hurts to use some light magic to make some sparkles for an extravagant departure.

Their personal favorite way to get around is by train. They've become very accustomed to the local train schedule because of this.

#oc tag #chewy ask #crob #cookie run #cookie run oc #crob oc #cream cheese tea cookie #chewy lore #doctor-sunshine-is-dead #chewy art

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undertale-writing-times · 2 years

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❛ everyone i’ve cared about has either died or left me. except for you. ❜ with Tragedy please?

I made this a lot longer than it needed to be lol

It's uh... also not angst -w-'

It was a bit funny.

His nickname was Tragedy, and his life was one.

Every time he got something good, it was ripped away from him. Sometimes he wondered if it was his fault, did he do something to get someone mad at him? Why did he have to end up in this place? What did he do?

His brother got killed because of him, the family he worked with before was hurt and he was blamed for it, and now he has to work with this group of idiots.

He never wanted to do this! He didn't want to hurt anyone, he wanted a life in which it was just him, his datemate, and their children. He wanted a nice peaceful life, but he knew that he would never be able to have that.

He was forever going to be stuck in this circle of death... and he didn't know what he was going to do.

And then, he met them for the first time. A shining light in his world of darkness. They helped him, when everything around him was black and dark, he finally saw a light. A hand reaching out for him.

Literally!

When they met, Tragedy had fallen while getting stuff from the store for the house. He was the one that did most of the shopping because he wasn't the most known family member. He normally went and cleaned up the mess! You know, helped hide things that showed who they were or got rid of the bodies if anyone was killed. Sometimes he set them up if the killing was supposed to be a warning.

Well he slipped on a puddle of water, and when he went to get up, he saw someone reaching out for him. It was a human, their smile was bright and warm, they asked him if he needed help; if he was hurt.

The kindness shocked him, as did their smile and the way that their eyes looked. They shined like gemstones.

He told them that he was fine, took their hand, and got up. Of course he thanked them! They spoke a bit together and Tragedy found out that their name was Y/n. They seemed to find his name interesting, so he told them that it was just a nickname... They found that funny.

Before he even knew what he was doing he asked them for their number. They seemed a little embarrassed but they gave him their number! He went home that day thinking about them, thinking about the way that they seemed to glow.

Like an angel.

After that day they started to talk more. Mostly texting. He would message them at any time that he could! Something that Calamity and Envy took notice of. Hell, even their healer did. Calamity teased him, asking “Are you talking to your datemate?~” and making the best kissy sounds that he could because they didn't have lips. Tragedy pushed him away, telling him to knock it off and stalked off, grumbling to himself.

Datemate...

The way his soul skipped a beat when he heard that haha... who would have guessed? Did he want them as his datemate? Did they... did they want to be? If he asked them, would they accept him? Most likely not, they had no idea who he was... what he was.

He was a killer.

He's hurt so many people, more than he could even remember! The voice in the back of his mind told him that if he ever told Y/n what he was, they would hate him. They would leave him just like everyone else.

It made his head hurt, his sockets burn. His soul pound.

Why?

Why did he seem to care about them so much already? Did he care about them or did he just like the idea of not being alone anymore? Yeah, he wasn't alone because of the others, but they were his teammate. They weren't a family.

And that's all he ever wanted.

Even as a babybones himself he said that he was going to grow up and become a dad! He wanted to have two babybones, a boy first then a little girl. He didn't mind however they acted, or how they wanted to be.

He just... he wanted a family.

Tonight he had been out and about, cleaning up a mess, when he got a message from his friend, Y/n. It said 'hey Tragedy! :D Guess what? I got a job!' 'want to come out with me to dinner? Celebrate?' 'If yuo're not too busy, I mean!!! >///<'

He drops the bag on the ground with a gross wet sound, and pulls out his phone after taking off the gloves. He reads the message and smiles letting out a soft happy purr 'You know that I won't say no to you' 'Just give me an hour and I'll be over to pick you up'

They went back and forth on the plans for a bit before they said bye and Tragedy replaces his gloves then continues to clean up mumbling to himself “Calamity you messy shit” Honestly, did he have to make such a mess every time? Envy should get him to clean up after himself once to see what Tragedy had to go through!

Once Tragedy was done cleaning he went back home to change into something else. He looks into the mirror, messing with his tie. Okay, this was it. He was going to see if Y/n liked him!

And if they did, he would spill who he was.

"Tragedy" he heard causing his bones to lock for a second then he turns his head to see it was Envy that was talking to him. The leader of the mafia stared at him, while Tragedy stared back until Envy let out a soft sigh and he walks over. He reaches out, helping Tragedy fix his tie. “I know what you're plannin' on doin'. If you really love this person, I think that you should go for it... you never know when you'll find someone that you care for again like this”

Tragedy looks at him, tilting his head to the side, frowning slightly then nods in approval. “Y...Yeah” he mumbles. Envy was right.

There was a chance that he could never find someone like this again. He breathes in and out slowly and nods again, "Thank you Envy, I'm goin' to be leavin' now" Envy nods in approval and he turns, starting to walk out of the house looking forward. Calamity lets out a whistle seeing Tragedy go by. He rolled his eye shines, smiling a little.

He stops in front of Y/n's house, staring up at the building. His soul was pounding against his ribs and he suddenly felt tired. It felt like he needed to drink a gallon of water.

The door opens and Y/n looks out at him, smiling "Hey! You're here" they come out to him, looking at him with a relaxed smile on their face. They were wearing a nice outfit.

"You look nice" He was able to get out, his cheeks flushed, "Are... Y-You... You wanna get goin'?"

Y/n nods and leans against him as they start to walk together. Y/n was talking about the job that they were getting, something simple but still sounded fun at least. Tragedy nodded along as they were talking, studying their face.

The way that their eyes shined while they were talking, their lips up in a little smile. He noticed little things about the way that their eyes crinkled.

He blinks realizing that he was staring so he looks away, his cheeks flushing with magic. What the hell? Why couldn't he keep his mind in focus.

"Are you okay?"

He almost yelped when he heard the voice, making him turn his head to look at his friend. Y/n was looking at him with a little frown on their face. They looked almost worried.

"Ah..." he clears his throat, shaking his head to get his mind off that, then nods "Yes, I'm alright. Thank you I was just... thinkin'"

"About what?"

"...Things" he shrugs his shoulders, smiling faintly.

Y/n hums then they shrug, letting out a laugh and they both look forward as they walked together.

Finally they got to the restaurant and Tragedy gets them a seat, telling the worker that he would be paying. Y/n tried to tell him that it was fine, he didn't need to do that, but Tragedy told them that he wanted to. They did something good, and this was his good job type gift

They sat together at the table, making small talk. Tragedy was tapping his fingers on the table, scratching lightly at his cheek.

Y/n hums looking at him, "Hey, are you sure that you're okay? You're acting a little weird"

He looks at them, then looks away, clicking his teeth together. "Well..." He sighs out slowly then looks back at them, getting a small smile on his face. "Everyone I've cared about has either died or left me. Except for you" he turns his head down, holding his hands together, tapping his thumbs, "And I've been... I've been thinkin' about everythin' I don't blame you if you don't feel the same, but I wanna tell you that I've kinda... I've kinda started to like you" As he spoke he saw their face change, they looked shocked then embarrassed so he had to turn his head down.

He was scared.

What if they decided that they didn't return the feelings? Would they not want to be his friend anymore? Would they not want to spend time together? He didn't want to ruin their friendship honestly!

He cared for them.

"Tragedy, look at me" They say, so he lifts his head to look at them. They lean over to kiss his cheek, smiling at him, "Of course I like you too... I haven't really been hiding it all that much! I was waiting for you to tell me"

Tragedy blinks, his cheeks flushing with color, before getting a small smile on his face and he turns his head down purring softly. "I'm glad" He puts his hands over his face to try to hide his embarrassment.

Ugh.

Damn his feelings.

After that they had their dinner, holding hands on the table. Tragedy rubbed his thumb across their knuckles every once in a bit, enjoying the way that their muscles moved or their hands clenched onto his own. It was... comfortable.

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nymphadorathetemplar · 2 years

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12) dcmk Decative Conyan please!

so while i was in a silly mood one day i said "Detective Conan AU where everything is the same except Conan is a cat" which was supposed to be a joke except i then ended up crafting a legit explanation for how Shinichi turns into a cat instead of shrinking by combining it with Magic Kaito's Pandora legend

i'll just copy & paste my messy google doc notes for this AU under the cut after the snippet

Now for the tiny snippet:

WIP #12: Decative Conyan

Shinichi started to regain consciousness. He had to slowly open his eyes as his head still throbbed from the impact he received. Was he unconscious the whole night? It wasn't as dark as he remembered when he was knocked out, he could easily make out his surroundings. Wait no something was off, it wasn't bright as in more sunlight, it was like the world was put through a light coloured filter allowing him to see things more clearly in the dark than usual. The next thing he noticed was the way his clothes seemed to pool around his body. He shifted to further inspect why his clothes felt this way and found legs covered with black fur with cat paws on the end. Where did this cat come from? Then the cat legs shifted exactly when he tried to move his arms...that's strange...why— it happened again. No way. He must be dreaming or hallucinating from the drug that cold eyed man gave him. There is no way he could have turned into a cat. But no matter how much he twisted and turned and continued to stare at where his human body should be, all he could find was the body of a black cat that moved under his control.

[end snippet ; start google doc au notes]

So i like having fun with APTX ideas that use MK lore of Pandora

so the idea that Pandora is a substance that isn't quite a single gemstone—that's part of how the myth/tale was twisted—Pandora is actually something in certain people's blood and in consuming that blood, people can heal wounds and even extend their life

Once upon a time there were many people who had this blood but they were sought after by greedy/evil people and so they began to dwindle in numbers

Vampire legends come from the people that were trying to find these Pandora people & drinking their blood for extended life

However the people who had the blood of Pandora only had slightly longer than average lifespans and the greedy people didn't want their source of long life to die out so that they may continue drinking and become like immortals

So one solution they tried was making Pandora people drink each other's blood

But rather than healing them, they became cats—black cats to be specific

And they didn't become like normal cats, it appeared they still had their human memories and cognitive functions

Also these Pandora cats are the reason the "black cats are unlucky" and "cats have nine lives" rumours began

the people feared these unnatural cats who seemed able to quickly heal and live an unusually long life

And so that experiment was abandoned and years later APTX was being worked on to create a youth medicine but in the way it was made, it was discovered that the healing properties were being reversed to instead kill the body without a trace, thus it was decided to use it as a poison.

Now even with the Pandora people seeming to be extinct, there are still some out there. And their blood was passed on through some families. One of them being through Fujimine Yukiko's family.

When Shinichi is given the APTX, his Pandora blood reacts with it, causing him to turn into a cat.

As a cat—now named Conan as he indicated by messing with a Conan Doyle book when he was found in the Kudou library and adopted by Ran—of course no one can understand him so he has to figure out ways to point out the clues to solve the murders and sometimes other mysteries

#conyan au #dcmk #detective conan #wip #wip challenge #edogawa conan #kudou shinichi #writing #ntt post

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mandoalorian · 3 years

Text

Aphrodite’s Stone [Maxwell Lord x Reader] SMUT *sex pollen*

Summary: Your boss, Maxwell Lord, tasks you to acquire an important gemstone from the Smithsonian museum's annual gala, not realising the powers that it possesses and how it can possibly affect you when an accident occurs.

Rating: 18+ ONLY.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: SMUT (sex pollen, automatic dub-con due to the nature of it being a sex pollen), female recieving oral, thigh riding, fingering, creampie, boss x employee relationship, mutual pining. No spoilers for WW84 but some slight references and mentions of canon type mythology/lore. Oh, and there's actually plot!!

Author's note: Feels like all I ever do is write for Max Lord hehe. This is my first ever sex pollen so I hope it’s okay! I tried to make it as canon-typical as I could and I’m actually really happy with the outcome. Also I haven’t written mutual pining in so long so this has been really fun!

Masterlist

"Did you get the stone?" you whispered, waltzing over to Maxwell who had been schmoozing with a few of the gala guests. He stiffened up when he heard the sweetness of your voice. Your presence always took his breath away. He cleared his throat and placed his half empty champagne glass on one of the silver trays that were getting passed around.

"No, not yet," Maxwell admitted and you sighed. "I've tried swindling the geology department but they won't budge."

"Can't imagine why," you rolled your eyes sarcastically, referencing the time earlier in the year when Max had stolen a very specific citrine stone from the Smithsonian Museum. Of course their trust in him would've been altered. Maxwell quirked an eyebrow at your brief comment and you raised your hands defensively. "Sorry sir." you looked down nervously and he nodded his head, choosing to dismiss what you'd said.

"This is where you come in," Maxwell said, clicking his tongue. Your eyes met his again with curiosity. He took your hand, carefully dragging you to a quiet corner of the party. "You can get the stone."

"Me?" you asked almost rhetorically, your eyes turning comically wide. You were his assistant. He trusted you with menial tasks such as making coffee, handing over paperwork and grabbing his mail— not acquiring some ancient artifact from a different continent.

"You can do it!" he grinned enthusiastically. You were beginning to think he was putting on his charming and persuasive television voice and you furrowed your eyebrows together unimpressed. "Carol Thomas over there, she's the director of the museum. You must make sure she doesn't see a thing. But that tall guy with the dark hair? That’s Ken, and he’s been watching you all night."

You blinked in bewilderment. "He has?" you tilted your head, looking at the man Max had pointed at.

Maxwell's gaze burned into your body as you watched the geology department interact with one another. Of course he has— Maxwell felt like saying. Every man at the damn gala had their eye on you. You looked remarkable, and you were too humble to have even noticed. He brushed off your question.

"Go over there and butter him up a little," Maxwell smirked as you turned back around to face your boss. "But not too much." he quickly added on to the end, feeling a little too defensive over you. "Find out where the stone is. Can you do that?"

"What does it look like?" you mumbled, not really liking the idea of having to flirt with a slimy looking man just to get some random rock thing.

"Ruby." Max snapped back like there was no question about it.

You looked back at Maxwell, a small gasp escaping your lips as you took in his appearance. He looked drunk with desire, and you realised how much he must've wanted that stone. Maxwell's eyes were a beautiful shade of honeyed brown that sparkled under the amber lights; they were beautiful. You felt your lips curve into a small smile of agreement and you felt Maxwell's large, ring clad hand rest on your shoulder, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. You made the decision to get the stone, knowing how much it meant to him. You hadn't even realised that the primal, hungry look that crossed his face was actually nothing but pure lust for you.

The second you walked away, Maxwell picked up his champagne glass and finished it off with one quick swing, the bitter taste of alcohol rolling down his throat. He tried to shake off these feelings he had for you, deeming it as unprofessional. He knew from the very start that it was a mistake hiring you. The moment he saw you waiting outside his office to be interviewed, was the moment he had to have you. But of course, his own insecurity meant that he felt as though he couldn't act on these feelings. He may have been a charismatic TV personality but deep down, he had his own, personal reasons that made him feel smaller and weaker than everyone else. For who could ever love a man like him?

"Hey, Ken, is it?" you smiled, extending your arm and grabbing the man's hand. You immediately cringed, feeling the sticky nervous sweat that coated his skin. The dark haired archeologist pushed his glasses up the curve of his nose and shook your hand a little too aggressively.

"Wow," he muttered, looking you up and down before clearing his throat. "Uh, yes. Ken."

You fake smiled, hiding your disgust, tearing your hand away from his and rubbing your palm against the material of your dress in disgust. You wanted to kill Maxwell for making you do this. From the dark, shadowed corner in the ballroom, Maxwell watched you intently, a flame of envy burning in the pit of his stomach.

"I hear you have an exhibition happening?" you took a glass of your favourite alcoholic beverage that was being passed around by a waiter.

"Yes, but it's not ready yet." Ken revealed and you nodded your head understandingly.

"That's a shame," you sighed, a fake sadness dripping from your tongue. "I'm a sucker for gemstones."

"Yeah?" Ken asked as you peaked his curiosity. "What's your favourite kind?"

"Oh, I like the red ones," you joked, and to your surprise, Ken actually laughed.

"We have a whole sub-section on garnet," Ken admitted and your lips parted slightly, omitting a small ‘oh’ as he continued on. "It's beautiful."

"I'm actually more of a ruby type girl myself." you explained, wondering if you were evening making the slightest bit of sense. Even if you weren't, Max knew that you'd be able to wrap Ken around your finger from your good looks alone. And he was right.

"We have one ruby," Ken whispered, leaning into you. Maxwell scowled as he watched Ken push his body into yours. He was seconds away from intervening. Max wanted the stone, but not if some slimy gemologist was making you uncomfortable in the process. Maxwell paused dead in his tracks when he saw you gently push Ken away from you, laughing politely. Max decided he couldn't watch anymore and decided to walk away, finding a group of women to distract himself with.

"Can I see?" you shot Ken your best pleading eyes.

"I'm afraid not. I could pull a few strings with the garnet collection but the ruby is 3000 years old. It's from ancient Greece, and it's the last of its kind."

You pouted, turning your heel, about to walk away, when Ken grabbed your arm and stopped you. "I mean!" he called and you raised your eyebrow, trying to hide your winning smirk. "I suppose I could pull a few strings. It's in the gallery, you must go alone though. And don't tell anyone. And remember to look— not touch."

You grinned, leaning in and gently pecking Ken on the cheek. "Thank you." you said, feeling his cheeks heat up under your lips. You pulled away from him and spun around. You watched out for Carol Thomas, making sure she wasn't looking before you slipped out of the gala and made your way to the gallery.

You were truly in awe as you looked over all the different rocks, each different sizes and different colours but all equally as beautiful as each other. Your eye finally caught the attention of the ruby Max had sought after for so long. You were no expert on geology but this didn't seem like any normal ruby, it sparkled and glittered and stood out from all the others. It was caged in an acrylic box, but it took no effort for you to lift the box off the crystal and swipe it, pushing it into your purse. It barely fit, but you managed to make it work. Double checking that no one was around, you swiftly exited the gallery and made your way back to the main party.

Maxwell wasn't in the corner you had left him, but instead, he was talking to a group of women; flirting no doubt. You rolled your eyes as they tossed their hair and giggled as he leaned into them. You couldn't help but wonder what exactly he was saying to woo them. Grimacing, you stormed past the group of girls and grabbed Max's arm, tugging and pulling him away from them.

"I got the stone," you informed your boss, briefly glancing back at the girls who were scowling at you for whisking away Max. You frowned, feeling unamused.

"Are you okay?" Max asked, sounding genuienly concerned. This was so dumb— of course you were okay. You had to be okay. It was completely fine that Max was flirting with other women, it's not like he had any interest in you anyway. It's not like you owned him. He was a grown man and he could do whatever he wanted.

"Yeah." you shot back, offering him a gritted smile. Maxwell nodded his head slowly and leaned into you.

"My driver is outside waiting. Head back to my office with the stone, I'll only be right behind you." you didn't know what it was, but suddenly, your boss' voice sounded dark and... seductive. The way his breath fanned over the shell of your ear made you shiver. Without saying another word, you left the party and travelled back to your workplace.

It was no surprise that Black Gold Cooperative was deserted when you let yourself in, sliding your employee card through the terminal and squeezing through the revolving doors. It must've been almost midnight, and you were the only one in the building. You slipped behind the main desk and booted up the computer where you had access to turn on all the lights in the building so it didn't feel so sinister. As you waited for the computer to turn on (and it felt like forever), you took out the gemstone and placed it on the top of the desk. Even in the darkness, there was something so attractive about it. No wonder Maxwell was so desperate to get his hands on it. He had an affinity for geology, although it was almost secretive. You remembered the one time he invited you over to his house, he had a whole shelf that was proudly displayed with rocks and minerals. It was a hobby of his that he didn't share with anyone else. But he trusted you.

He definitely shouldn't have trusted you.

You left your purse on the main desk as the lights finally illuminated the building. Holding the ruby in both of your hands, you carried it up the stairs, through the call centre and into Maxwell Lord's extensive sized office. You admired the way it sparkled and shone under the bright lights, so much so, you weren't watching your step. You let out a yelp as you tripped over a chair which had been carelessly pulled out, falling to your knees as the stone went flying across the office, landing near his desk.

You felt your heart sink into the depths of your chest when you heard it smash. No— there was no way. Gemstones don't just smash like that. Terrified, you crawled over to where the stone had landed and saw that it had quite literally smashed into smithereens; almost like glass. At least, that's how it sounded. The crystalized rock had turned into some kind of sparkling red fairy dust that looked almost magical. It was like a shimmering illusion. You scurried around the floor wondering how the hell this had happened. How the rock had smashed and turned into a pile of glitter. You knew you wouldn't have long until Max came back.

Your legs began to feel weak, but you decided it was just from your anxiety. Shit, the rock meant so much to Max. He gave you one job. One easy fucking job and you couldn't even do that right. You were so fired.

You began to collect the sparkling red dust in your hands, desperately scooping it up but sighing when it fell through your fingers. Your actions became more erratic, knowing your boss would be back any second. No matter what, you couldn't pick up the dust. You looked around his office, wondering if he had a brush or something to shovel it up with, but of course he didn't.

There was something weird… the dust from the gemstone wasn't just glittering, it was quite literally sparkling— gleaming, even. When you touched it, it made your skin tingle. It sent aches of heat flooding down your body. It was enough to make you suspicious but once again, you shrugged it off as nerves. You cared about Max so much, and he was going to be so pissed with you.

When you heard the double doors to his office swing open, your whole body stiffened up, your eyes squeezing shut. You were on your knees still, your back faced away from Maxwell as he merrily came waltzing into his office.

"I called Roman Antiquities from the carphone," he announced, his voice as vibrant as ever. "They're so happy we managed to get the stone," You felt your eyes grow comically wide. Wait— the stone wasn't even for him. It was for somebody else. Things just went from bad to worse. "So," Maxwell slid his hands into the pockets of his tailored pants. "Where is it?"

You slowly rose to your feet, scrunching your nose up in displeasure as you prepared to tell your boss what had happened. How you had been so clumsy. "I- I didn't realise you were sending the stone to Roman Antiquities." you mumbled, slowly turning around and nervously biting your lip.

"I didn't mention it?" Max shrugged casually. "Yeah, apparently it's in high demand."

"Ken said it comes from ancient Greece, and there's only one made," hearing the words leave your lips didn't make the situation any better, you realised. "Do you know what's so special about it?"

"Yeah," Max replied, walking towards his desk. "There's a lot of things special about it. Can I see it?" His dismissive tone made you feel small and uneasy.

"Max…" you drew his name out like it was the longest melody in the world. He looked up at you, waiting for you to continue. "Something happened. I uhm…" you let your eyes wander around his spacious office, refusing to land anywhere but him. He, however, was staring directly at you. "I had it with me. And I carried it carefully to your office but— I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings and I-" you halted suddenly, feeling your whole body heat up, and a fire shooting through your core. You squeezed your legs together and pursed your lips into a fine line, stopping a moan from escaping. What was going on?

"And?" Maxwell urged, his voice growing increasingly more concerned.

"And-" you gulped. It was a weird, strange feeling. Like suddenly, all your scents had been heightened. The smell of Maxwell's rich cologne filled the room, intoxicating you and sending you into a frenzy. "Wow." you mumbled out.

Maxwell said your name sternly, breaking you out of your strange yet blissful haze. You were used to him saying your name, usually in a condescending way. But this time it was different. It was deep, gravelly and outright delicious.

"I broke the stone," you announced with a shaky exhale. You began to feel slick between your thighs and your eyes widened. Were you… aroused? You just about managed to look back at Max and suddenly everything felt different. You saw him in a completely different light.

Sure, you'd had fantasies about your boss before. He was an attractive, single bachelor and he always made you feel special. He always made you feel important. You would sometimes daydream about him at work, watching him from the back of the conference room as he led team meetings. You'd go home after a long day only to think about him whilst you showered, and even before you went to sleep. Suddenly, your feelings made sense.

"You. Broke. The. Stone?" Maxwell gritted out. Your eyes dropped down to fixate on his Adams Apple. Had his voice always been so sensual?

"Max," you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you grabbed onto the edge of his desk, your fingers curling around the corner so hard your knuckles turned white. "I don't feel so good."

Max slowly walked over to you, looking you up and down. "Where are the remnants of the rock?" Max quizzed. You let out a moan as the feeling of arousal became excruciating. He called your name again and you just about managed to point in the general direction of the pile of glittering red dust. Maxwell's eyes widened. "Oh no no." he said, hurrying over and examining it, but being extra careful not to get too close.

"I know," you cried. "I'm sorry."

"Did you-" Maxwell swallowed the lump in his throat before turning back around to face you. "Did you touch it?"

"Y-yes," you drew out, rubbing your thighs together trying to create some feeling of friction, but doing so discreetly so your boss wouldn't notice. "I tried to clean it up."

"Shit," Maxwell muttered, hurrying over to his desk and spreading out a pile of papers. The papers were filled with information about the very specific ruby stone, and Max read it closely and as quickly as possible.

"What is it?" you asked worriedly. Maxwell's eyes widened and he wrapped an arm around you, carefully navigating you behind his desk and sitting you in his chair. You curled up into the softness of the leather seat, humming in delight your dress rode up slightly and the material stuck to the back of your legs.

"There's something you should know," Maxwell frowned. "The rock… they call it Aphrodite’s Stone."

"Aphrodite?" you breathed out. "Like, the goddess of love?"

Maxwell nodded, flicking through a few more of the pages. "Yes," he confirmed. "But uh- not just love. I mean, it was love, yeah but. She was also the goddess of beauty, uh- procreation, passion and…" Maxwell took a deep breath. "Pleasure."

You made a fist so tight your fingernails pressed into your skin as you shuffled around in the chair. Maxwell was so close to you, you just wanted to pull him on top of you and take him now— exactly how he was. But no, he was going on about some Greek goddess.

"Max please," you begged and his head snapped in your direction. You didn't even realise the way your chest was rising and falling, the way you were heaving and panting. Just the sight of you alone was enough to stir something up inside of Max. Beads of sweat laced your collarbones and hairline as you whimpered and moaned. "Can you just- please- tell me- what’s going on? What's happening to me?"

"The stone contains a kind of sex pollen," Max blurted out and your eyes snapped open.

"Are you kidding me?" you asked and Max shook his head quickly. "Like- a drug?"

"Yeah… and you touched it. Shit okay, let me go grab a bowl of water and we’ll try and clean the remnants from your hands…" Max said quickly, biting his lip and bolting over to leave his office when you shouted for him to come back.

"N-no, it won't work," you whispered, holding your arms out and ushering for him to come back over to you. "Please, please Max…" Your hands travelled to the hem of your dress as you started to peel it up. Max watched with intent, his once honeyed brown eyes turning so dark— almost black. His eyes raked your body as he watched you squirm in his office chair. The same chair he sat in every single day. "Please help me take this dress off. I feel so constricted."

"I-" Maxwell began but stopped when you sighed dramatically, tossing your head back.

"Don't fucking argue," you groaned and Maxwell felt taken aback by your attitude. You had never spoken to him like that before. He'd hate to admit it, but the desperation that dripped from your tongue caused Max's cock to throb in his pants. "Please."

Maxwell took your hand and pulled you up from his chair, briefly noting the wet patch from where you had been sitting. He had to sit back in that chair tomorrow morning, and you had made such a beautiful mess of it. His large hands manouvered around your body as he turned you around, finding the zip to your dress and pulling it all the way down to the small of your back. He took a step back as you shuffled out of it and he politely looked away, not wanting to invade your privacy or make you feel uncomfortable. He took off his tuxedo jacket and offered it to you, in case you felt the need to cover up, but instead you just glared at him.

Maxwell found himself subconsciously licking his lips as his heart rate climbed at the mere sight of you. There you were, standing before him in nothing but lacy black lingerie. He felt his cock grow thick and stand at full attention as he took in the sight of your alluring body. It was perfect in every way, even better than he had ever imagined in his dreams.

"What do you need?" Maxwell asked, his voice low. "What can I do for you?" The pollen in the stone made everything sound so seductive but you could swear that even amongst all the heat, you heard genuine care in his voice.

"I don't… I don't…" you weren't about to tell him that you didn't know, because that would be a lie. You knew exactly what you wanted, and he knew enough about the stone to know exactly what you wanted as well. You needed him, craved his body and ached for him to fill you up and pleasure you. You felt your cheeks heat up, unable to find the pride to actually ask your boss for this. Maxwell took a step closer to you, breaking any distance. He smelt so good.

"Anything you want," he whispered, wanting you to know that he'd be more than willing to help ease you. "Anything you want you can have it."

"Anything?" you asked, pressing your hands to his chest and letting your fingers trace the soft material of his dress shirt.

"Anything." he affirmed.

With that, you grabbed the straps of his suspenders and pulled his body into yours. A low groan emitted from the back of his throat as you pressed your lips against his. You wrapped your arms around his body, your palms laying flat against his back as he kissed you. His tongue licked your lower lip and you moaned wantonly, opening your mouth slightly and granting him access to explore you further.

Max's hands settled on your hips, his fingers playing with the waistband of your panties. You moaned, dragging your own hands to his hair and running his fingers through it.

You loved his hair, you always thought about touching it and playing with it. He always styled it so perfectly but, to your surprise, it wasn't hard with hair-product. Instead, it was soft and glossy and it was like you could feel every wave. He eventually pulled off you, gasping for breath.

"I don't want to take advantage of you when you're like this," Maxwell frowned, as you pushed him into his office chair. "I mean, shit. I want this. I've wanted this for so long…" he rambled on as you slid out of your panties and unclipped your bra. His eyes widened when he saw you stand on his office, completely nude and shameless. He thought you looked breathtaking. You were quick to discard the garments, unable to hide the triumphant smirk that played across your lips as you straddled him. You perched yourself on top of his leg and instantly began to ride his thigh, rubbing your soaking wet pussy over his expensive pants.

"Let me," you moaned, leaning into him and kissing his neck. "Let me use you then."

"Yeah?" Maxwell asked shakily and he felt you nod into his shoulder as you gasped out another moan. "Okay. Take what you need." he said before wrapping his arms around you and dipping his fingers into the small of your back. You could feel the coolness of his gold rings tingle against your warm skin and it only turned you on even more. You couldn't count the amount of times you had imagined the ridged feeling of his rings press up against your walls as he slid his fingers inside of you. Max flexed the muscles in his thigh and you yelped slightly at the friction. "Oh, you like that?" Maxwell asked, and done it again before you could even respond. You tugged on his tie, fumbling as you slid up and down over his leg. You just about managed to loosen it, pull it off, and discarding it on the floor amongst your other pieces of clothing.

"I like these," you giggled, tugging on his suspenders. "But I want them off."

"Cum for me first," Maxwell growled, feeling his hard member press against the confines of his pants. They'd grown extremely tight around his now throbbing erection. You looked down and gasped just at the sight of him. You lowered one hand, while keeping the other hand draped around his body, keeping you steady. With your free hand, you traced the imprint of his cock and smiled when you watched his eyes flutter shut from only your gentlest of touches.

"You weren't even affected by the stone," you giggled, humming in delight as you reached for his zipper. You didn't stop sliding your slick pussy over his thigh, your movements building up your oncoming high. "And look at you." you wiggled your fingers into his pants and your eyes widened as you felt his cock. "Fuck… Max Lord going commando?" your laugh came to an abrupt end when Max's grip around you tightened. He took your hand away from his manhood and set it on his bicep as he held you by your hips and muttered dirty words into your ear.

"Cum for me." He gritted out again, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and gently nibbling at your skin. He pulls his hands down to your breasts and squeezes at them, his thumbs grazing over your nipples.

"So close," you warned him as your walls began to contract against nothing. You ached for his cock, now more than ever. Still massaging your breasts, he reattached his lips to your neck and trailed sloppy kisses all the way down your collarbone. "Shit Max, fuck I cant," you gasped.

"Can't what? What is it baby?" Max asked, pulling away slightly and cupping your cheek with his hand.

"I can't cum without… without…" tears pricked your eyes as the gushing sense of sexual desire coarsed through your body.

"What do you need?" Max whispered.

"You. Inside me," you managed to stammer out with absolutely no shame. Max looked absolutely wrecked, his dark blonde hair that was once perfectly styled had completely fallen out of place and his chocolate brown eyes were glazed with lust. But he was gorgeous and you couldn't help but smile knowing what exactly you had done to the esteemed Maxwell Lord. You shuffled back slightly, and Max glanced down at the wet patch you had left on his pants. He couldn't contain his grin.

"I don't have a condom," Max admitted. The revelation surprised you as you pegged Max for the kinda guy who endured a lot of sex in his office. It seemed like the perfect place, but come to think of it, he never really had girls around. Only you. You didn't care that he didn't have a condom. In fact, you kinda liked it. You wanted to feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock as it filled your pussy.

"Good," you smiled, standing up with a wobble. Max stood up after you and cleared his desk before patting the expensive oak wood, ushering you to lay down.

But first, you pulled down his suspenders, unclipping them from his pants and throwing them to one side. You worked at his shirt buttons one by one until eventually, you pulled it off and dropped it to the ground. You wasted no time, unzipping his pants and pulling them down to his ankles. You licked your lips in delight as his cock sprung free and he stepped out of the pants that had pooled around his feet.

Max gently pushed you backwards into his desk and you hopped up, sitting down and laying back. "You're so beautiful," Max sighed as he drank in your appearance, wanting to savour this moment and remember it forever. "Open your legs." he commanded as he stroked his cock. He gathered his precum which had been leaking from the tip for God knows how long, letting it slick between his fingers as he jerked himself off at the mere sight of you spread out on his office desk. You obeyed his instruction, closing your eyes as you prepared to feel his cock push inside of you.

But instead, you felt his hot, wet tongue lick a stripe up your clit. Your whole body stiffened up as you released a groan you didn't even know you were holding back. "Fuck- what the fuck," you curled your fingers into a fist as he continued to cat lick you. You just about managed to open your eyes and see the vision of his head in between your legs as he devoured your dripping pussy. "You're really dragging this out, huh?"

He was good. He was so good. He knew his way around your body perfectly and you swore, in that moment, that perhaps you were made for each other. Maybe it was just the effects of the stone but you had never had such a satisfying sexual encounter.

"When I saw the mess you made on my leg, and how wet you were, I knew I had to taste you," Max admitted, his voice was gruff and sent vibrations through your core. He continued lapping you up, humming and moaning in delight on the occasion he'd suck at the bud of your clit and draw out a moan from your lips. "And fuck, you taste so good."

"But I want your cock inside of meeee," you whined.

Max didn't attach his mouth from you once, but he did bring up his hand and push a finger in between your folds and began to massage the entrance to your hole.

"Gotta prep you first," Max told you, before pushing his index finger deep inside you. He moaned at the feeling of your walls around him and felt his cock twitch against his stomach. Obscene wet noises echoed through his office, as well as your moans and pleas for more. "So greedy," Maxwell chuckled. "Always wanting more," he pushed in his middle finger, stretching you open. He looked up at you, his eyes hungry as he pumped his fingers into your pussy. It wasn't long until your legs began to quiver and shake profusely. You screamed when Maxwell pulled out his fingers and shoved them in your mouth. "Taste," he told you as you sucked on his fingers. "Good girl. See? You taste so fucking good. I could get used to this."

When you had cleaned your juices from his fingers, you felt him line himself up against your entrance. You reached out, holding onto his strong biceps for support as he thrusted inside of you. He grunted, squeezing his eyes tight shut as your walls tightened around you. He was big— bigger than you'd ever taken before. If you weren't so aroused from the stone, you wouldn't know if you'd be able to take him. He filled you perfectly. He pushed himself balls deep into you and then came to a halt.

"M-move," you whimpered, pressing your nails into his skin.

"Beg." he shot back, smoothing the hair out of your face and running his thumb over your puckered and sore lower lip.

"Please Max, please. Fuck me." you felt tears prick your eyes and Maxwell took the hint, finally thrusting in and out of you. Your cunt was so tight around Maxwell he couldn't believe how perfect of a fit you were. He dragged his thumb to your clit and started rubbing intricate circles as he increased his speed. His movements became sloppy and rapid as his fingers pushed you over the edge. "Cum inside of me," you gasped out the second you felt his cock twitch inside of you, indicating that he was close.

"Are you sure?" Max asked and you nodded your head.

"Never been so sure about anything in my life." you screamed, your back arching as you finally came undone. You absolutely drench him, and if it was any other situation, you might've felt a little embarrassed. But Max was in ecstasy when your cunt tightened around his cock like a vice and milked him of all that he had. He spilt his seed inside of you, the warmth coating your walls and shooting jolts of pleasure down your body.

You found yourself completely engulfed in a post coital haze, and Max kept himself inside of you until he softened and could slip out of you without causing you any discomfort. "You might be sore tomorrow," he mumbled, pressing a kiss into your neck. You hummed, whispering something incoherent but your smile was very telling. You had never been so happy. "But the effects of Aphrodite's Stone should wear off now."

"You took care of me," you whispered, your eyes slowly opening. You sat up and wrapped your arms around Max, pulling him into you. You felt completely and utterly spent, and Maxwell couldn't disagree either. He walked you over to his chair and sat you in his lap.

"Of course I took care of you," his voice was gentle and sweet like honey. "This was all my fault. And I should've warned you about the stupid fucking rock in the first place."

"Stupid?" you raised an eyebrow. "That was the most fun I've ever had," you laughed and Maxwell couldn't contain how happy your revelation made him. "But… are we going to be in trouble?"

"You don't have to worry about a thing," Maxwell hushed you, smoothing out your hair and pressing a kiss into your hair. Something in his voice made you trust him and believe in him. You just knew he wouldn't let you get into trouble. "I'm glad this happened."

"Me too." you whispered before closing your eyes and burying your head into his chest. Curled up into his lap, your naked bodies tangled together, you both fell asleep in his office chair. Maxwell Lord created a frightening and intimidating aura, but, the truth is, you had never felt more safe and more comfortable in your whole entire life. You knew that this happy accident was going to be the start of something great.

Taglists (let me know if you wish to be added!)

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love

This fic: @lostcherryinwonderland @thewayofthemandalorian

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #pedro pascal smut #ww84

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echo-of-sounds · 3 years

Text

your birthday

Drabbles of Aizawa, Toshi, and Hound Dog celebrating your birthday.

These came out a little longer than initially planned. But that’s okay since these are birthday drabbles for @smutav @mrsvash and @rurounivash! I hope you guys have/had/will have a great, relaxing day, and thank you for all your support! (I also tried to tailor them a bit towards what you like and how you’d want to spend your day. I hope I did okay!)💙💙

Warnings: there is some smut in these

Aizawa Shouta

Wind and water washed; one brought a fine layer of salt across your skin; the other, a cold tidal flow over your feet. You walked into Shouta’s shoulder. He didn’t react until you did it again, trying to get away from the freezing water.

“Too cold?”

You hummed and nudged closer to his eternally high body heat. That same heat enveloped your hand, guiding you away from the tide. Gratefully, he didn’t chide your request for an evening stroll on the beach. Well, he sighed but hid any reluctance.

It wasn’t till most people cleared the area and you were nearing the exit that he halted, keeping you in the open, onshore winds. The tiny tilt of his eyebrows stopped you from questioning him. The simple, long bracelet box he pulled from his pocket turned your chills into a fluttering. Wrapping paper nor bows covered it. The only design was the imprint of the designer’s name.

Shouta mumbled over the mounting breeze, the smallest blush noticeable in the lowering light, “It’s not much. You didn’t give me any helpful ideas.”

“Because you didn’t need to get me anything.”

“Yes, I did. Here.”

Careful to not drop or let the wind take it, you accepted and opened the box. Inside, waiting on a velvet cushion, laid a rose gold bracelet. White gemstones, glittering from the waves and sun, decorated the braiding chains. It felt frosty yet loving under your fingertips. You exhaled, “Shouta… how much was this?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he scolded and returned the box to its pocket. Deft fingers aligned it around your wrist, easily linking the tiny clasps together. His hands stayed around yours, holding firm, displaying the bracelet between you. “Do you like it?”

Dark eyes waited, calm, almost concerned as you stared. It didn’t matter how tired they were, they always gave you so much love. And it didn’t matter how much he typically sucked at buying presents. This one was good, excellent, raising a laugh from your throat. You threw your arms around his neck. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“I love you,” heated breath puffed along your jacket’s collar. Lips replaced it, gracefully skimming the hidden skin. His warmth perfectly offset the cold.

“I love you, too.” You withdrew to meet his eyes and whisper, “Let’s go home.”

He agreed with a kiss.

Once home, you sat with Sho on the couch, hunkering down for the rest of the evening for some wine, cuddling, and kissing. His question paused that: “Glasses?”

“Fuck.”

Before you could get up, he plucked the bottle of wine from your hands, popped the cork, and took a swig. He handed it back to you and watched as you mirrored his actions. Fewer dishes, you guessed.

He lounged back, leaving his chest wide open for you to rest against. The cracked window provided an excellent chilly breeze for snuggling up under a blanket. You curled up, legs on his lap, ready for relaxation.

The beginning of the movie was the only part you paid attention to. The hand drifting from your shoulder to your waist, slowly touching every part of you as it moved towards your thigh, pinching the bottom of your shorts, kept tugging at your thoughts. It would fondle its way back up, carelessly pulling up your shirt until it snapped back in place.

Forty minutes into the movie, he presented you with another box: same color, same style as before, just smaller. With lips flushed to your temple, in a deep, doting tone, he whispered, “Open it.”

As you did, his kisses traveled to your cheek then neck. Propped inside were earrings, mimicking the angelic rose gold and white of the necklace. You sighed at his lips and gift, “Shouta, they’re beautiful… thank you.”

“Put them on,” he hummed just before biting your collar bone.

Stuck between laughing and moaning, you did. And he immediately removed your shirt after, kissing behind your ears, kneading your sides. You gripped the back of his shirt, wanting it gone, but as per usual, he didn’t listen, choosing to unclasp your bra next. Teeth returned to your neck. Something thin and cold accompanied them.

Sho sat back exposing your front to the nippy air. He stared at your chest. You looked down. A necklace hung, gleaming and gorgeous, pink and white. You smiled at his lunky gift giving. “You could've just given them to me all at once, you know?”

He shrugged and slid off his shirt. You leaned back as he came forward. Lips landed on yours hard, firm, just like his body did, weighing you into the cushions. He propped up on his elbows, staring at the necklace.

“I can take it o-”

“No. It stays on,” he droned, coming back down for a kiss. Your palms flattened along his sides. Your legs spread for him to settle much closer, properly close, wonderful for grinding, and exactly where you wanted him the rest of the evening.

Yagi Toshinori

It was already noon. You didn’t expect a call at six a.m. sharp, but you imagined he’d call before noon, at least, or send a text, a picture, an emoji, something to show you he remembered. No, you knew he remembered. He always did. He was probably just busy teaching the next generation of Heroes and all.

Something closed. You froze, listening, wondering if you imagined it. The faint shuffling told you, you didn’t. You hurried out of the bedroom to see Toshinori waiting, holding a bouquet of flowers. He sang, “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“What are you doing home? I thought you had to stay on campus till tomorrow.”

“I finished early.” He set the stuff down and collected his welcome-home hug. “Well, I convinced Nezu I could finish my work from home, and since tomorrow is a training day, I have an extra day to finish.”

“Thank you.” You latched tight, nuzzling against his jacket. The thought of spending your birthday alone wasn’t the worst thing, but it wasn’t the best. You mumbled, “I thought you forgot.”

“I would never.” He pulled away and rubbed the back of his neck. “However, I, uh, I wasn’t prepared to celebrate today. I couldn’t find a reservation for tonight. I tried a bunch of different places, but they were all booked. I’m sorry, I tried.”

“That’s alright, Toshi. I’m fine staying in.” You hugged him again, adding, “I hate when they sing to me. Home is perfectly fine.”

He kissed the top of your head with a laugh. He stroked your back, slow and firm, keeping his lips pressed to you, occasionally whispering sweet sappiness. Yeah, this was much more preferable than spring the day alone.

“I’ll cook you something, anything. What do you feel like?”

“Dunno. Doesn’t really matter.”

“You have no ideas?”

“No. Let’s just order something.” You really didn’t want to let him go. Feeling him in your arms was much more pleasurable than anything else.

“Alright. What do you want?”

“Dunno.”

“You’re not helping me.”

“Surprise me.”

In thirty minutes’ time, someone knocked on the door. Toshi paid, thanked them, and returned to the couch, bearing a brown paper bag. Inside was your very early dinner of chocolate chip pancakes and fresh fruit. The last thing he withdrew was a milkshake. “It’s cake batter. I figured if you lacked a cake, this was the next best thing.”

“Thank you,” you chuckled.

The meal was enjoyed in a simple, snuggling silence, watching Tv with a kiss here or there. The syrup added a tasty sweetness to his lips, something you kept going back for during commercial breaks.

You didn’t want to break the cuddle. It was Toshi who eventually did. He retrieved your jacket and held it out for you.

“What’s this for?”

“This day may not have been the most exciting, and I feel like I was underprepared, but I do have an idea for your present.”

“Toshi, you don’t need to get me anything. You’ve done more than enough for me.”

“I know, but I want to treat you to something. Come on.” Toshi led you outside and down the street.

The late afternoon air provided a blissful breeze and contentment. People were sparse, allowing you the comfort to hold his hand. Though the occasional glance made you tuck into his side until they passed. He never mentioned it; he simply squeezed your hand and continued the walk.

Just when you began to question if there was an actual destination, he steered you towards the computer store you frequented. Inside was just as barren as out. You guessed he picked a good time for shopping, if that was what this was about. And since you were still left in the dark, you questioned him, “What’s this about, Toshi? I don’t need anything from here.”

He scratched his jaw. “When you were talking about the parts you wanted for your, uh… hard drive… motherboard, processor… thing, I was more than a little confused. Instead of buying the wrong thing, I’ll let you pick it out. I know it isn’t much of a surprise this way, but I wanted it to be useful to you. So, go pick!” he chimed, throwing his hands out in front of him.

“Toshi, this stuff is expensive. You don’t-”

“I want to. Go pick some things, and don’t you dare look at the price.”

Encouraged by his smile, your hesitations vanished, and you all but skipped to your desired isle. A hard drive adapter and mounting bracket caught your eye. Plus, they were cheap: thirty dollars at most.

You tried to move on from the next thing that piqued your interest. Yet, the box kept calling your name. You picked it up to read the back.

Toshi came up beside you. “What’s that?”

“It’s a motherboard.” You showed him the label, Gigabyte Z590 AORUS Elite Intel LGA 1200 ATX Motherboard, and explained, “It could run with my Corsair ram with the Intel 10700k. It’s supposed to be easy to overclock and stable on air.”

“Oh, that sounds very nice, sweetie,” confusion faltered his voice. Bewildered or not, he still kissed your temple, murmured his love, and took the items.

“Toshi, I wasn’t planning on getting it.”

“Well, I am.” He smiled and, despite your very vocal doubts, bought them.

You hugged his arm the entire way home, eager for your presents and craving some more cuddles.

Hound Dog

Through the tiniest crack in the shades, light beamed directly into your eyes. You rolled over and snuggled into the blankets. The day could wait…

Apparently, Ryo didn’t think so. The door squeaked open. The bed creaked as he crawled behind you, funneling heat across your body and fur nuzzling your neck. His ridiculously gigantic hands thwarted your attempt to wiggle away. You fussed his name, just wanting to sleep more.

“It’s almost noon.”

“Hng.”

“Time to get up.”

“Why?”

“I made breakfast. Come on.”

“No,” you whined into the pillow. You should be allowed to sleep in on your-

“Fine.” With a chest-filled growl, arms circled and heaved you out of bed, comforter included. You gripped his bicep amid the whiplash. The swirling ceased once he plopped you on the couch, bundled in your blanket, surrounded by pillows. None of which you could lie on since all were fur-coated and staticky.

“Breakfast,” he introduced, placing two plates down with a mix of breakfast quesadillas, muffins, patatas bravas, yogurt, and avocado and eggs. It appeared like he just made whatever he could think of. Not that you were complaining. It all smelled and looked amazing.

“Eat quickly.”

“Why? Do we have plans?”

“No,” he grumbled and sat beside you, his right leg bouncing. He gave you no more information and dug in. You did as well, thanking him for and appreciating the big birthday breakfast.

And all the way through the meal, his leg never stopped. Sometimes, he’d shift in place, or twitch, but his leg just kept going.

“Are you-”

“Time for your gifts.” He jumped up and disappeared into the hall. You wiped your hands and mouth clean in time for a giant gift bag and a present to fall into your lap. He was certainly rushing his way through this.

You blinked at the present. There was no way in hell he wrapped it. The huge, purple bow was tied neat and even, enclosing pink and blue wrapping paper, perfectly folded and taped down. It looked like a picture, not his actual doing.

And your face must have said it all because he gruffed, “I kept ripping the damn paper. Vlad wrapped it for me. Now open it.”

You’d have to thank Vlad next time you saw him. The ribbon released easily and the paper slid off quickly. You stared, smiling at the box of fine-tipped inking pens. It included nine of different sizes and one brush pen. Every time you thought about buying them, you talked yourself out of it. He must have remembered you mulling it over one of the few dozen times.

Wet heat licked your cheek. His nose pressed to you after, cooling the spot down. “Is it the right one?”

“The exact one. Thank you.” You kissed his muzzle, running your nails along the length of it and between his eyes. An odd grumble came from his throat. Judging from his calm, closed eyes, it was a happy grumble. You pressed a few kisses to his cheek, wanting to listen to the husky rumbles.

Ryo’s eyes opened, surprisingly remaining content, and he tapped the gift bag. “This next.”

This one was most definitely done by him; ripped tissue paper was shoved into the top, littered with holes from pointy claws. You laughed as you pulled it out. Strays pieces of tape somehow made their way inside, sticking paper to your skin.

Eventually, you found the presents: two t-shirts, a wearable blanket, and a deshedding brush. You held the last item up in a silent question.

“You always complain about my hair everywhere. This will fix that.”

You rolled your eyes and thanked him. He lapped at your cheek again, choosing to frisk down to your neck. His heavy hands tugged you onto his lap, sending tissue and wrapping paper falling to the floor. Fingers felt around your shirt. You gasped when they clamped on your side’s sensitive skin.

“Ryo-” You shuddered at their increasing strength. He didn’t really know how to fondle passionately. It was more like prodding and pricking to him. You panted, “I haven’t showered today or anything.”

“You do that once I’m done with you.” Teeth clamped on your shoulder, not enough to draw blood or pain, yet solid enough to lock you in place. His tongue, solid and way too hot, aimlessly dragged along thin skin.

His embrace kept you from wiggling away. Not that you really intended to. A day home with Ryo was such a scarce thing you valued so highly. You’d take anything at this point…

Especially since that anything was his fingers shoving into your shorts. Like the rest of him, they wasted no time and slipped inside you, steadily and sturdily caressing your front wall. Your body was hardly awake, making it considerably more responsive to his intense touch.

“Ryo, fuck-” Your breath caught at digging teeth. His palm pressured your clit, grinding, near jerking, giving you no preparation for your speedy orgasm. You gripped his wrist, closing your thighs on his hand, holding him in place.

His arm muscled its way out so he could lick his fingers, smirking and rumbling, clearly delighted.

Once again, he heaved you up, comforter included, and carried you back to bed. But this time, he threw you down and crawled atop, not letting you catch your breath because his tongue replaced where his fingers were.

Your shower was a long ways away.

#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #all might #all might x reader #yagi toshinori #toshinori x reader #hound dog #hound dog x reader #ryo inui #ryo inui x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #bnha imagines #smutav #mrsvash #rurounivash

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fallintosanity · 2 years

Text

FETH/FFXV, 1/?

look what y’all made me do instead of working on the eight fics I’m SUPPOSED to be writing 😭😭😭😭

In hindsight, Felix really shouldn’t have gone hunting through what was left of Garreg Mach Monastery in search of any clues to the professor’s disappearance. Or if he did, he shouldn’t have picked up the obviously magical sword that had fallen out of a heavily warded, locked, and broken-open casket in the rubble under the treasure vault. Or if he did, at least he shouldn’t have held the damn thing up to catch the light of the full moon so he could see it better, when the soft white gemstone set into its hilt had started glowing.

But he had, and he had, and he had, and now he was floating in some bizarre blue nether-space and a colossal asshole was staring down at him.

Literally colossal; the being was bigger than the monastery's cathedral tower, with armor more pretentious than the Death Knight’s. It was sculpted to look like a dragon, with shimmering blue-and-gold scales and wings made of swords that looked like the one Felix had picked up in the rubble of the monastery. If Felix was capable of feeling anything right now, he might almost be impressed.

THOU ART NO NABATEAN.

The words slammed into Felix’s head with the force of thunder, and he doubled over, pressing his hands to his ears even though the giant’s voice was resonating directly in his brain. Through gritted teeth, he managed to say, “Good observation.”

The giant’s next words sounded almost amused: HOW DIDST THOU ACQUIRE THE BLADEKEEPER’S SWORD?

“Found it lying around in the dirt,” Felix answered. He forced himself to uncurl, as much as he could when he was floating in midair like this. The sensation of lowering his feet to find nothing on which to set them was… unnerving at best. His stomach wanted to turn and he swallowed hard to keep it steady.

THE MAGIC WHICH LIES WITHIN THE BLADEKEEPER’S SWORD IS NOT MEANT FOR MORTAL HANDS, the giant said.

“Guess I’m special.” Felix flashed a humorless smile.

To his surprise, the giant’s eyes - glowing unnaturally blue in the shadows inside the mouth of the armor’s dragon-skull helm - widened ever so slightly. IT IS SO. THE POWER WHICH FLOWS THROUGH THY VEINS IS FAR MORE THAN MORTAL.

That… wasn’t what he was expecting, and Felix said, “Huh?” before he could stop himself. Then his brain caught up in a flash of bitter realization. “You mean my Crest?”

SO IT IS CALLED BY THOSE WHO STOLE ITS POWER.

Felix scoffed. “Power? It’s nothing. Second-hand strength relied on by fools too weak to fight for themselves.”

YET A POWER SO PRECIOUS THAT MORTALS COMMITTED UNTHINKABLE ATROCITIES IN ITS NAME.

Part of him, the part that had spent the last year at the Officers’ Academy in the vicinity of Professor Hanneman, knew he should pay more attention to this. The giant seemed to know more about the origins of Crests and their power than even the most learned Crest scholars. But with the Empire marching on Faerghus, the boar executed, and the whole world in chaos, updating the history books wasn’t a priority. Felix shook his head. “I don’t care.”

The giant’s eerie blue eyes narrowed. PERHAPS THE ONLY THING SPECIAL ABOUT THEE IS THE DEPTH OF THINE ARROGANCE.

“Sure, whatever,” Felix grumbled. “I have important business to attend to, so if you’re done talking, I’ll be on my way.”

I THINK NOT, the giant said.

Well, that was going to be a problem. Felix was all too aware that he had no idea how to leave this weird blue… dreamscape? Vision? What was this place, anyway? Not that it mattered, except inasmuch as he really needed to get out of here. Felix scowled up at the giant. “Why the hell not?”

THE STAR UNDER MY PROTECTION IS IN DANGER, the giant said. THE GLACIAN BELIEVES IT IS POSSIBLE TO PROTECT THE STAR WITHOUT THE SACRIFICE OF THE MORTALS WHO LIVE UPON IT. I DISAGREED. The giant’s stare pressed down on Felix like locking blades with an enemy. BUT THE BLOOD OF A NABATEAN CHANGES THE SITUATION.

“I don’t know what a Nabatean is,” Felix complained, “or how it relates to my Crest. Or what any of that has to do with this star of yours. And I still don’t care. I have a war to fight.”

MORTAL WARS ARE FOOLISH, the giant said. IT WAS IN ONE SUCH WAR THAT THE BLOOD OF THE NABATEANS WAS SPILLED AND THEIR LINE ENDED. ANOTHER WAR ONLY SHINES FURTHER LIGHT UPON THE GREED AND ARROGANCE OF THE MORTALS INVOLVED.

“You’re not wrong about that,” Felix muttered. Edelgard’s war meant more people dying uselessly: mothers and fathers, daughters and sons, sisters and—

he died like a true knight

Felix shoved that memory away with the reflex of long practice. No point in thinking about it - the dead were dead, and the giant was still talking: I COULD DO NAUGHT TO HELP MY COUSINS WHEN THEY WERE SLAUGHTERED, BUT NOW I SHALL ENSURE THEIR BLOOD WAS NOT STOLEN IN VAIN. A POINTLESS MORTAL WAR IS NOT WORTHY OF THEIR POWER. IT IS FAR BETTER SPENT IN THE BATTLE FOR THE SOUL OF A STAR.

“Your overwrought poetry means nothing to me,” Felix said flatly. “Release me.”

GO UNTO THE STAR, the giant said, as though Felix hadn’t spoken. ITS FATE IS ORDAINED BY THE REVELATION OF BAHAMUT, AS ARE THE FATES OF THE MORTALS WHO BEAR THE WEIGHT OF ITS DIVINE PROVIDENCE. IF THERE EXISTS AN ALTERNATE FATE FOR THOSE MORTALS, IT LIES WITH THE BLOOD OF THE NABATEANS. AND IF NO SUCH ALTERNATIVE EXISTS…

The giant paused ominously, those cold blue eyes focusing on Felix like a sword through his very soul. For a split second, the hot breath of fear lifted the veil of numbness that had shrouded him since that terrible day at the monastery, when a dragon had soared overhead and the professor had vanished into the depths of the earth. Felix hadn’t ever expected to be involved in the affairs of gods and monsters, but that day had changed everything - and the giant’s stare felt the same. Like a sword at his throat, sharp with the knowledge that no matter what move he made, his life would never be the same.

MY COUSIN’S BLOOD HAS ALREADY BEEN SPILLED, the giant said. IF NO SUCH ALTERNATIVE EXISTS, THE DEATH OF ONE MORE MORTAL MATTERS NOT AT ALL, NEITHER TO THE FATE OF THIS STAR NOR TO THE WAR WAGED ON ANOTHER.

Before Felix could respond, before he’d even caught his breath from that shock of fear, the blue void and the giant alike vanished as abruptly as awakening from a dream, and Felix slammed back into reality surrounded by sunlight and pavement and towering silver buildings unlike anything he’d ever seen.

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #fire emblem three houses #feth #fanfiction #yet another sanity crossover fic

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

Text

Matters of the Head and Heart

Synopsis: Mechanical hatmaker Mr. Felix Lee finds himself being charmed by your flirtatious antics towards him. However, you being an upper class young lady means nothing will come out of it. Right? Steampunk-ish AU set in 1850s Victorian London. Historical accuracy not guaranteed.

Warning: none

Word Count: 13.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x hatmaker!Felix

Mr. Felix Lee, having been an apprentice and a hatmaker for several years, is no stranger to the odd request or so, but the one he receives today is by far the most peculiar.

“A tea party?” he repeats. He eyes the cream colored envelope you delicately hold out before him, still trying to comprehend the unusualness of it all. “And I’ve been invited?”

“Yes, Mr. Lee,” you say with a smile. “It’s a short notice, I understand, but the hostess would be delighted if you attended.”

He elects to stall for time while he makes sense of it. Why is he invited? Surely, it is unheard of for a hatmaker to partake in a ladies’ tea party. “If I might ask, who is the hostess?”

“A good friend of mine, Miss Shin. She is quite the hat enthusiast and has been inquiring about the designer of my mechanical blooming rose one.”

“That would be me, I suppose,” he dumbly says. He remembers the challenge of your headdress. The flower petals were meticulously arranged and joined together so that they would furl and unfurl. It was quite the endeavor to craft, so he can hardly blame Miss Shin for wanting to learn more. He takes the envelope from you and sets it down on the counter, accepting the invite. “Who else has been invited?”

“She would not tell me about the others, but I think she’s planning her debut ball soon.”

Felix sagely nods. A young lady’s coming out into society is a grand affair, and Felix has heard the stories from fellow craftsmen about the intricacies demanded. If he’s fortunate, maybe Miss Shin, apparent hat enthusiast, will order something from him. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Nothing else, I’m afraid. Good day.” You curtsy and turn to leave, your wide skirts brushing against the sides of a display table.

Felix is feeling rather bold after all that, so he asks the back of your dress, “Will I see you there?”

You look back, lips curled upward in a small smile. It’s different from your typical ones, more playful and less guarded. The downward tilt of your chin is almost seductive, and Felix is doing his best not to turn scarlet. Some of his customers have flirted with him before, but you have never done so so blatantly. He wonders why you are acting coquettish now. Perhaps he merely hopes you are.

“Of course. Who else would introduce you to her?”

The front door of his shop swings shut, leaving him alone again. It is then that Felix realizes how inappropriate the entire situation was. You, an unmarried young lady, had no chaperone with you.

Felix swiftly returns to his latest piece of work to distract himself. He will not say a word about what occurred, but it does not mean that he is not flustered by it. It does not help that the cornflower blue fabric of the silk ribbon he holds matches your skirt perfectly.

The next morning, Felix arrives at a predicament: what does one wear to a tea party if one has never been to such an event before? After much deliberation and a chat with his elderly neighbor, he decides on his Sunday best despite the day being Saturday. He hangs up a sign in the window of his shop stating that he is closed and begins the walk to Miss Shin’s residence.

Unfortunately, the journey is more arduous than he expects as her home is well outside the city. The vast, open countryside is a stark contrast to the cramped buildings Felix is used to, so he spends most of his time admiring the greens and browns of around him. The scenery is the only pleasant part of his day thus far. His newly polished black boots are dusty from the dirt path he walks on, and there is a thin layer of perspiration on his face.

Sometime in the midmorning, a horse-pulled wagon passes by him, and the occupant facing the back calls out to him in a decidedly ungentlemanly fashion when he sees Felix.

“Sir in the blue coat! Mr. Lee, is that you?” he shouts as he stands up while the wagon is still being driven. “It is! Mr. Yang, stop the cart.”

The wagon slows to a stop, and the loud gentleman waves Felix over. “Mr. Lee! It’s Mr. Han Jisung! Would you like a lift?”

Felix graciously accepts his offer and sits at the back with him. He then greets both men with a nod. Jeongin, the poor driver who looks like he is still half asleep, urges the horse forward.

“Are you heading to Miss Shin’s as well?” Felix asks. Mr. Han is a renowned dressmaker known for his use of mechanical moving elements in his designs, which now that Felix thinks about, is similar to his own specialty. If Miss Shin desires a grandiose debut dress, Mr. Han is the one to order from.

Mr. Han nods and pulls an envelope from his coat. It is the same cream colored one Felix has tucked away in his own, the only difference being the name of the individual being addressed on the front. “I’ve made a few things for her before, but this is the first time she’s invited me to her home. And for a tea party of all things! Have you been to her home before?”

“No. She has never ordered from me either. A friend of hers gave me the invite.” Mr. Han ponders over this for some time, and Felix adds, “Her friend believes that Miss Shin is planning her debut ball soon.”

Mr. Han snaps his fingers at the news and nods. “That must be it! She does enjoy extravagant gowns, and your hats would go well with my designs. The singing bird one in your window is astounding! I ought to make something to go with it.”

Felix, thrilled at such a compliment from a man renowned for his mechanical prowess, smiles proudly. For the rest of the way, they talk about other inconsequential things like the weather and the traveling play troupe.

Soon, they arrive at their destination. The conversation quickly dies away once they take in the estate. Miss Shin has no title, yet her family’s home is fit for a duke or even a king. The exterior paint is a blinding white, not a trace of soot anywhere despite there being a carefully hidden coal burner at the side of the mansion. The front door boasts of a large brass knocker and stained glass cutouts, while the front gardens have a large fountain as a centerpiece.

Mr. Han speaks, or rather whispers, first. “This is certainly a sight.”

“I would say so.”

The driver parks his wagon, dilapidated and shabby compared to the gleaming carriage by the entrance, a short distance behind the carriage. Felix and Mr. Han hop off the wagon while Mr. Yang drives the horse to the stables, also magnificent in their own right. As they walk to the front door, the carriage door opens and out steps another familiar face. Felix and Mr. Han raise their top hats and bow to you, and you curtsy once your footman has helped you down. Your chaperone, who was absent yesterday, follows, and Felix and Mr. Han greet her as well. Felix averts his eyes in an attempt to rid himself of the memory.

“Mr. Lee,” you say. “And you are Mr. Han, I believe? Miss Shin talks at great length about your designs. I’ve been meaning to buy one myself.”

Mr. Han beams at this and holds his arm out for you as your small group approaches the stairs. When you take it, Felix feels a twinge of envy. Instead, he offers his arm out to your chaperone, who also takes it.

A butler, an automaton of the latest model, guides the guests to the garden out back where the party is occuring. Felix cannot help but admire the clever design of the large clock in the foyer and decides he ought to make a clockwork hat soon. The garden, lush with more greenery and sweet scented flowers, has a round table topped with empty plates and pots of tea. The young lady wearing a large brimmed hat with dangling gemstones must be Miss Shin. A hat enthusiast indeed.

You let go of Mr. Han’s arm and head to embrace her. “Ryujin! It’s so nice to see you again!” You turn back and gesture at the two men who accompanied you inside her home. “You know Mr. Han of course, but this is Mr. Lee, the hatmaker you have been inquiring about.”

Felix bows to Miss Shin. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Shin.”

“And you, Mr. Lee. Come, have a seat.”

After the guests take their places — Felix happily notes that you take the seat across from his — Miss Shin signals the automaton waitstaff to begin bringing out the food and pours tea for everyone. There are small tea cakes, finger sandwiches, and other morsels of food that seem too delicate to eat. You make light conversation about how lovely everything is, and Mr. Han agrees. For the next few minutes, there is idle small talk about the garden while the craftsmen impatiently wait for Miss Shin to address why she has invited them to her party. Mr. Han, however, asks before she says anything.

Miss Shin is not perturbed by this. In fact, she smiles broadly at the opportunity. “My debut into society will occur in the upcoming season, and I intend to have a spectacular one. You two gentlemen design the most exquisite clothes, and I need something unlike anything the world has ever seen.”

Felix glances over to see your reaction about being correct, but your face is hidden by a porcelain tea cup. When he checks to see his Mr. Han’s reaction, it is similar to his — expectant and excited for a challenge.

“You will all be paid handsomely, of course,” she offhandedly adds. “No expense will be spared.”

“Did you have something in mind?” Mr. Han asks.

“A theme of royal blue and brass,” she dramatically says, waving her lace gloved hands in the air. “I confess, Mr. Han, I was so enamored with the evening gown you made last season that I decided I wanted something like it for my debut ball.”

Felix has nary an idea what she is referring to, but he assumes it is a work of art. On the other hand, you’re nodding your head in agreement.

“Oh, yes. Everyone at the party thought it was divine!”

Miss Shin picks up her tea cup and primly holds it to her lips. “Mr. Han, Mr. Lee: are you interested?”

“Yes,” Felix immediately replies, of which Mr. Han echoes.

“Perfect. I trust that you both will create something magnificent. But enough business talk. For now, please enjoy yourselves.”

The conversation about her debut’s details lasted less than five minutes. However, they defer to Miss Shin’s request. Felix awkwardly sips his Darjeeling tea while Mr. Han selects a pistachio tea cake.

More compliments to the garden and food are made, and it becomes apparent that there is not much else appropriate to chat about. Felix and Mr. Han are both already uncomfortable, and the chaperones and mechanical waitstaff surrounding the table only exacerbate their unease. Despite Felix’s feelings though, attending the tea party is not all terrible. Not only does Felix receive a commission from who he finally realizes is the daughter of the illustrious Shin Industries, he is allowed to spend some time with you. You are jovial and are able to elicit a few laughs from everyone with your humor. Felix adds upon your jokes and turns a pleasant shade of pink when you chortle at his pun.

By midafternoon, the party closes to an end. Felix graciously thanks Miss Shin for the invite and tells her that he will do his utmost best to create a stunning headdress for her. When the butler arrives to escort them to the front entrance, Felix purposely walks slower to be near you.

“I must thank you for your interest in my designs,” he says. “This is quite the opportunity. Without you, I do not think I would have been here today.”

You shake your head. “She would have found out about you anyway. She’s always on the lookout for latest fashions and innovations, so I was surprised that she hadn’t discovered you before I did.”

You are fast approaching the door; Felix remembers the large clock in the front room. Mr. Han is walking quicklier than Felix prefers, so Felix only has a few seconds to come up with something else to say.

“Will you be needing a new headdress for the ball?” he asks.

“Possibly. Of course, I will come to your shop if I find that I do.”

Felix holds out his arm for you to hold as you head down the stairs. Your hand is gloved, and his coat is thick, but it feels as if your bare skin is touching his.

“I look forward to it,” he says.

Right before you step into the carriage, you flash him yet another coquettish smile that makes him flush. “As do I.”

Your chaperone, an austere lady with a high necked dress, arches an eyebrow at this exchange but says nothing. The last Felix sees of you is the long skirt of your cornflower blue gown disappearing into the carriage.

“Mr. Lee, would like a ride back to the city?” Mr. Han asks, jolting Felix out of his thoughts.

“That would be wonderful.”

The journey back is filled with discussion about Miss Shin’s requests. Mr. Han describes the mysterious evening gown: a vision of royal blue silk, lace trimmings, and brass and phosphorus star-like ornaments. Felix realizes that you and Miss Shin share similar tastes for themed clothes. He tells Mr. Han of this, and Mr. Han gives him a sly look.

“If I may be so forward, do you fancy Miss L/N?”

Felix grows hot and directs his gaze to the countryside. “She is merely a customer of mine.”

“Of course, my mistake," he replies, though his tone implies it is anything but.

Fortunately, Mr. Han does not push the topic any further and mercifully changes the subject to decreasing prices of velvet. Felix inwardly sighs in relief.

Several days later, Felix is in the midst of his work when his shop swings open. When he hears the noise, he pushes his tools to the side and replaces the intense scowl with a pleasant smile.

"Welcome! How may I be of service?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Lee," the young lady greets. She pushes the brim of her gemstone hat back. "I've just had the most wonderful idea for my hat, and I need you to bring it to life!"

Miss Shin has quite the eccentric style, and her grand idea exemplifies it. After a trip to the newfangled aquarium exhibit at the conservatory, she has decided on an oceanic theme for her debut ball and wants an “octopus” upon her head. Felix has no idea what that is.

"It’s a fascinating thing with eight arms. I hear they also call it the devil fish, though it is more devil than fish.”

Miss Shin’s chaperone nods in agreement and shudders at the mention of it. On the other hand, Miss Shin herself seems enamored with such a creature.

“I will do my best. Are your chosen colors the same?”

“Yes. The royal blue will nicely lend itself to the theme.” She sighs dreamily, and Felix wonders how deeply she has thought about this.

“It sounds marvellous. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Not today, but perhaps another time.” She glances back at the door momentarily. “I must go to Mr. Han about this. I’ll be sure to come with payment for it next time. Goodbye, Mr. Lee.”

“Goodbye, Miss Shin.”

The store is quiet again. Instead of picking up his tools, Felix grabs his stovepipe hat from its hook and heads to the local conservatory to get a glimpse of the octopus Miss Shin spoke so earnestly about.

It is indeed as fascinating as she made it out to be. The gears in his head begin to turn.

The following day, Felix spends the late afternoon at Mr. Han’s shop to discuss Miss Shin’s requests. Mr. Han is also amused by the prospect.

“She asked for an octopus-like gown as well,” he remarks. “Have you seen one before?”

“Just yesterday I visited the aquarium. It’s like a balloon with many strings.”

Mr. Han snorts the comment. “How accurate. Are odd creatures the fashion nowadays?”

Before Felix can answer — “I’m not sure, but Miss Shin seems to dictate trends than follow them” — the bell on the shop door rings, indicating someone has come in. Felix stops leaning against the wall and straightens up to greet the person. Upon doing so, he recognizes that said person is you.

You look just as surprised as he is. “Oh, Mr. Lee! Hello. I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Good afternoon, Miss L/N,” he says, bowing. He adjusts his hat to better hide his warming ears.

Mr. Han stands up from behind the counter and smiles broadly. “Miss L/N, Miss Wang,” he says, referring to your chaperone, who seems pleased to be acknowledged. “Are you here for a dress?”

“Yes. I’ve been waiting all week to come here. But just something simple though.”

Mr. Han’s “simple” designs are still far more extravagant than the gowns sold by typical dressmakers, but they seem to be your taste. Felix pretends to be preoccupied by the mechanical doves flying about the skirt of an unfinished dress while you select something from Mr. Han’s inventory. Your constant humming and deliberation make it difficult for him not to be distracted. He sneaks a glance at you, and you are browsing through the dress forms with interest. A delighted smile appears on your face each time you discover the hidden mechanical details embedded in the fabric.

“I think this one will do,” you say, stopping at a lilac walking dress with small turning gears in place of buttons.

While Mr. Han carefully wraps and packages the gown for you, Felix hovers by the counter, wishing that he had something clever to say. The weather is dull and unimaginative, the current traveling play troupe in town has been discussed to death, and the tea party from last week is old news.

“Have you seen an octopus before?” he blurts out, forgoing a transition. He regrets his decision when he realizes how impolite it is. He thinks he hears Mr. Han stifle a laugh at his eagerness.

To his relief, you don’t seem to care. “Oh, yes! I visited the exhibit at the conservatory a few days ago and saw one up close. A frightening but intriguing beast.”

“It is.” He’s running out of words now. Mr. Han seems to be spending a lengthy amount of time tying twine.

“What did you think of it?” you ask, oblivious to Felix’s increasing internal panic. “I assume you have seen one by your words.”

If he didn’t fancy you before, he does now. “Intriguing as well. And inspiring. It’s unlike anything I have ever seen.”

“Should I expect an octopus hat for sale soon?” you teasingly say. “I imagine you would be able to make something spectacular. You are quite the inventor.”

Your chaperone makes a noise of disapproval at your blatant flattery and possible flirting. “Miss L/N, I believe it is time for us to go. Now.”

You take your parcel from Mr. Han and thank him. To Felix, you grin and say, “I look forward to the hat.”

“Miss L/N, that is enough.”

You bid the two men goodbye and follow your chaperone out the door. Felix hears you grumble, “Fei, you are not very fun.”

When the door shuts, Mr. Han turns to Felix with a satisfied expression. “You’re welcome, by the way. What a shame Miss Wang interrupted.”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re referring to,” Felix says, a pleased blush spreading across his cheeks. There’s no denying that he enjoys being on the receiving end of your advances, no matter how much he pretends he doesn’t notice them. “I think it is best that I go now as well. To start on the drafting process.”

“Oh, you have an idea? What is it?”

Felix describes it to him, detailing the waving tentacles he has envisioned and the way they could be coiled into Miss Shin’s hair if she wished. Mr. Han looks impressed by his ingenuity and ponders over the design like he’s considering something similar.

“I’ll let you take your leave,” Mr. Han says. He unrolls some more length of butcher paper onto the counter and picks up his pencil. “You’re not going to chase after her, are you?”

“I wouldn’t do such a thing!”

Mr. Han nods, clearly not believing him. “Alright then. I hope your plan goes well. Good day, Mr. Lee.”

“Good day.”

True to his word, Felix heads back to his shop and does not run after you. He leaves the ‘CLOSED’ sign hanging in the window and heads to his work surface to begin the calculations for Miss Shin’s headdress. However, even with such an important task at hand, his mind still drifts to you.

He wonders why he is so easily tempted by your flirting. Yes, you are pretty, but beauty alone has never made his heart beat nearly as quickly as it does when he is around you. Your natural charm borders on brazenness sometimes, but he doesn’t detest it. To be honest, it’s refreshing in an era where everyone’s advances are supposed to be reserved and ambiguous.

He realizes he has answered his own question.

With a soft sigh, he returns to his sketches, each curve of his drawings reminding him of your carefree smile. He fancies you. He fancies you a lot.

As midwinter approaches and the beginning of the season begins, Felix’s shop is flooded with customers wanting new hats. Somehow, word has gotten out among the upper class about the new hatmaker with fine craftsmanship and one-of-a-kind designs. Most of his finished products are snatched up, and several people ask about placing future orders. He takes a select few; after all, he has another very important project that needs to be done.

He asks Mr. Han if he has experienced this wave of new business as well, to which Mr. Han says something similar happens to him every season.

“You’re a new face, so it’s natural,” he assures. “I imagine Miss Shin’s upcoming ball has much to do with it as well.”

Felix does not fully understand Mr. Han’s remark until Miss Shin stops by with her payment days later. She gives him a little more than necessary, but when Felix tries to hand the remainder back, she waves it off, citing it as a gesture of her appreciation.

With more cheer than before, Felix shows Miss Shin the progress he has made on her headdress so far: tentacles that trail down the back, moving pieces that make it appear the arms are waving, and glowing phosphorus eyes. Miss Shin marvells over each element and declares it spectacular. Then she pulls an envelope from her reticule and presents it to Felix, who stares at it not unlike he did weeks ago to a similar piece of stationery.

His name is clearly written on the front, but he hesitantly asks, “It is for me?”

“Yes. An invitation to my debut.”

You will certainly be there as a member of Miss Shin’s court, and if he goes, then…

Perhaps a dance? A chat? His mind spins with possibilities. However, he’s more concerned about why he’s being invited to such a high-class affair as a hatmaker.

“Pardon me, but why am I invited?”

“In case of mechanical errors. I can’t have the day spoiled because of something like that. Not that I expect it to,” she hastily adds after seeing Felix’s affronted expression. “Mr. Han has been invited for the same reason. It’s simply a precaution.”

“I see.”

“A few of my friends are asking about you as well. Besides,” she slyly adds, “you’re a young, eligible gentleman. I’m sure someone will be delighted with your presence.”

Felix nods slowly as if he is thinking it over. Is she talking about you? He certainly hopes so. “Thank you for the invite. Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

“Just sure to attend my debut. Anyway, I must be on my way now. Good day, Mr. Lee.”

“Good day.”

She and her chaperone head for the door. Once they are out of sight, Felix breaks the seal on the envelope and notes the date of the party: nearly a fortnight away. No matter his previous apprehensions about it, he is going to attend. He would be a fool not to.

The ball is in a week’s time, and Felix has spent the past few days and nights putting the finishing touches to the octopus headdress. It is done now, nary a mechanical error or physical blemish in sight. He even has Mr. Han look it over, and the mechanical genius himself deems it to be perfect.

Felix sighs in relief and sinks into his chair, the cushion worn thin from so many hours of him sitting on it. “This was the most challenging design I have ever done.”

“You did a splendid job,” Mr. Han reassures. “Would you like me to mail it to her along with her dress? I’m nearly done with it.”

“That would be wonderful.” He doubts Miss Shin will return since he has not heard a word from her since she last visited a week ago. The pieces of gossip he overhears from customers corroborate his assumptions; they whisper about Miss Shin overseeing the planning of her extravagant ball by herself and how exhausting it must be.

He delicately places the hat into a velvet-lined hatbox and covers the top with tissue paper. Then he pops on the lid.

“Are you attending her debut?” he asks. “Miss Shin said she invited you.”

“Of course!” he replies, and Felix is glad that he won’t be the lone craftsman there. “It’s far too good of a business opportunity to pass up. I take it you will be there as well?”

“Like you said, it’s far too good of a business opportunity to pass up.”

“And other kinds of opportunities as well.” He glances at the clock hanging above Felix’s head. “Ah, I ought to get going. This was supposed to be a quick break. Goodbye, Mr. Lee.”

Mr. Han holds the box close to his chest when he leaves. Felix watches closely and relaxes when Mr. Han does not run down the street like he expected him to. He trusts that the hat will arrive in perfect condition, but if it does not, well, that is why Miss Shin invited him to attend the ball in the first place.

Despite knowing that he will be going to an upscale affair, he has not prepared himself in the slightest. After deliberating for a few minutes, Felix takes up his stovepipe hat and heads down the street as well. If he wants to impress you — potential future customers, he means — he should at least buy a new coat and cravat.

On the day of the highly anticipated ball, Felix rises before the sun. It’s an evening party, so he needn’t be up so early, but he cannot sleep. His body is tired and demands to rest, but his mind is buzzing. As such, he brews himself a cup of tea and begins searching through old design sketches to fix.

Two redesigns and recalculations later, a gentle tap on the storefront’s window makes him look up. He has only had a half a cup of tea, so he is unsure if his eyes are truly working when he spots you standing outside. He isn’t even open for business yet. You cup the glass door and peer inside, presumably to see if he is awake yet. He blinks twice, and you are still there.

He walks over and unlocks the door, making you take a step back. When he sees you wearing in the purple walking dress you bought weeks ago, he feels disheveled in comparison. He pats down his uncombed hair. “Good morning, Miss L/N.”

“Good morning, Mr. Lee. I apologize for coming this hour, but it was urgent, and I wasn’t sure if there would be enough time if I came by later.”

Felix is wide awake now. “What is the matter?”

You hold out a bronze hatbox to him. “Do you remember the blooming rose headdress you made? Well, I was careless last night and accidentally dropped it. It’s broken, and I was planning to wear it tonight. Is there a chance it could be repaired by then?”

“May I…” He hovers his hand over the box, his fingers just a few centimeters above yours.

“Yes! Of course.”

Felix opens it, and to his relief, the damage is not as bad as he expects. There are a few petals askew, jamming the other flowers around it and causing the entire mechanical rose garden to stutter. The only other concern is the small grease stain on the silk ribbon, but that is a simple fix. He wonders where you dropped it. Certainly not on the ground since the damage seems to be minimal.

“I can repair it. Could you come back in a few hours? Around mid-morning?”

You sheepishly smile at him. “Would it be possible for you to give it to me at the party? I wasn’t actually given permission to leave the house today.”

It is then that Felix notices that, once again, you have no chaperone with you. Or does your carriage driver count as one, he flippantly thinks. It does not matter though. The sudden realization about the inappropriate situation makes him more shy.

He takes the box from you and steps back into the safety of his store. With the clear door threshold dividing the two of you, he feels much more at ease. You seem slightly saddened by this, but perhaps it is his wishful thinkings.

“Of course,” he says, trying to hide his reddening face by looking at the cobblestone pavement. “Where shall I wait for you?”

“By the fountain in the front gardens. I have to arrive at the Shin residence early, so it will likely be me waiting for you.”

Felix nods and takes one small step backwards. “I will see you tonight then, Miss L/N. Good day.”

“Good day, Mr. Lee. And thank you for your help.”

You walk back to your carriage and wave goodbye when you see that he is still standing by the door. He weakly waves back and scurries to his work table where he promptly sets the box down and whispers panicked mutterings to himself. He feels like he’s overheating.

He drinks the remainder of his tea to cool himself down before settling into his chair. He reaches for his tools and begins taking apart the mechanical flowers. It is a distraction from you but not a very good one.

When Mr. Han show up in an actual carriage in the evening, Felix’s nerves are not any better. He fumbled with the top buttons of his shirt while dressing, and it took him several attempts to tie his cravat correctly. Now, every bit of his body tremors as he steps inside the carriage.

“Well, don’t we look like dandies tonight?” Mr. Han remarks. He eyes the hatbox Felix has on his lap. “Did Miss Shin send it back?”

“Miss L/N needed an emergency repair,” Felix responds as he pretends to adjust his cravat, making it look worse than it did mere seconds ago. The evening air is warmer than he anticipated. “Are you excited?”

Mr. Han lets his poor attempt at steering the conversation away slide. “More or less. I would rather be at home, but parties can be fun.”

Felix is inclined to agree, though he is most excited and terrified at the prospect of seeing you again. The conversation devolves into silence as both gentlemen stare out the windows, observing the countryside at night. There is not a hint of light save for the moon and stars above. The wind blows in any direction uninterrupted, making the grass and wildflowers rustle.

It is a romantic picture.

Soon, the natural countryside begins to wane as they approach Shin residence, lit up in shades of blue with phosphorus lamps, comes into view. There is a line of carriages on the gravel path leading inside the estate. They are one of the last ones, and Felix is overwhelmed by guilt for being so late. How long did he make you wait? Mr. Han pokes his head out the window and mouths an exclamation at the sight.

“I don’t think I have seen or even heard of a debut ball of this size,” he says. “Well, she did that no expense would be spared.”

Felix, even more anxious about the party now, only nods in agreement. As their carriage nears the entrance, he scans the gardens for the designated meeting spot. There is a shadowy figure by the fountain, nearly hidden by the tall hedges. Although he cannot make out who it exactly is, it must be you.

When they finally reach the entrance, he opens the door and steps out with your hatbox tucked under your arm. He heads towards the fountain, the opposite from the main door of the house. The driver, the same one as last time, gives him a strange look but says nothing. Mr. Han seems to understand and says that he will see him inside.

Felix slows his pace, making sure that the few guests waiting to be let into the estate will be inside by the way he reaches you. There are curious glances in his direction, but they rapidly turn to the decorated main door as the line moves forward. Once there is no one left outside, he quickly strides over to the fountain. You are nowhere in sight, so he presumes that you are behind a hedge. Hopefully, you have not left.

“Miss L/N,” he softly calls, “are you here yet?”

Like he hopes, you walk out from behind a hedge, the hem of your dress showing up first. Felix has to suppress a gasp when you stop right in front of him. You are very close, and your evening gown and typical daywear are vastly different. Your bare shoulders, to put it mildly, are distracting.

“Hello, Mr. Lee. How are you tonight?”

“I am well, thank you.” It comes out a little strained, and to deflect from that, he holds out the hatbox. “Your headdress, as requested.”

“Thank you. The ball has started, so I should head back before they notice me missing.” You take it from him and hold it in your arms. “Shall we head in together?”

You really are brazen. As much as he would like to spend more time with you, he knows the social implications it has and the damage that will be done to your reputation. This very act of meeting you alone is illicit.

“I think I would like to wander the gardens some more,” he lies. He vaguely gestures at the plants. “They’re quite lovely.”

You give him a half smile. “They are. Ask me for a dance later, will you? I would very much like it. Until then. ”

Like nothing out of ordinary occurred, you merrily head back to the house, leaving Felix at a loss for words. He paces around the fountain and imagines the conversation over and over again. You were no doubt flirting with him. He is beyond delighted, but he has no idea what to do with this newfound development. He spent the last months admiring you from afar.

Ten minutes later, after he is certain that no one will connect your reappearance with his, he finds himself inside the bustling ballroom of the mansion. ‘No expense spared’ is correct.

There is a full orchestra playing on a raised section and a quadrille underway. He must have missed the first dance. The automaton waitstaff are conducting their own dance through the crowd as they distribute drinks and collect empty plates. The oceanic theme, so earnestly described by Miss Shin, has come to life with the blue tinted lighting and sea creature motifs decorating the walls. Felix notes that although there are many species of fish, the devil fish is not among them. Against the west wall leans the refreshment table, draped with scalloped tablecloth reminiscent of the waves. Just a few steps away, to Felix’s amazement, is an enormous aquarium filled with exotic fishes and elegant aquatic plants. He suspects that the conservatory might have loaned them for the night. However, he would not be surprised if the Shins had their own aquarium.

“There you are.” Mr. Han emerges from the crowd, relief clear on his face. “Miss Shin has been wondering where you were. I didn’t say anything about your… plans, but I may have given her the impression that you got lost on the grounds somehow.”

Mr. Han leads Felix to wherever Miss Shin is. In the meantime, Felix hopes that she just wants to introduce him to a few of her friends and not that her headdress needs to be fixed. Imagine how mortifying that would be.

“Mr. Lee! You’ve arrived!” she exclaims. The surrounding guests all immediately turn to get a look at him, and he feels embarrassment coloring his face. “Everyone, this is the gentleman who created this extraordinary octopus upon my head.”

Just like that, Felix is inundated with questions.

“How long did it take?”

“What excellent craftsmanship! Are you taking commissions now?”

“How much for a hat?”

Felix politely answers them all, half bewildered and half pleased by the attention. Mr. Han watches from the sidelines with a proud expression and gives Felix encouraging nods when no one is looking. Several minutes later, Felix has earned himself a slew of new potential customers, all who are more than willing to pay a visit to his shop the next time they are in town.

“It has been in perfect working order ever since I received it,” Miss Shin reports. She reaches up to adjust one of the metal tentacles coiled into her hair. “You won’t be disappointed.”

Felix relaxes when he hears the good news. “Thank you for compliments. Pardon my manners, but I do not think I have mentioned how wonderful the evening has been so far. Your ball is a true success.”

“Thank you,” she says, the ever gracious hostess. “Do enjoy the rest of the party.”

One of her court members adds, “And do be a gentleman and ask a certain Miss Y/N L/N for a dance.”

“Yuna! Don’t be so—”

Felix does not get to hear what Miss Shin says next since Mr. Han pulls him away to the refreshment table, far away from where they were. Thank goodness for his perceptiveness. Felix is only a few shades lighter than crimson.

He does intend to ask you to dance, but the question is when? You were not with the other court members by Miss Shin, and at a party this large, he is unsure if he will even be able to find you.

“Having fun so far?” Mr. Han asks as he plucks a cream and jam roll in the shape of a fish off a serving tray. “It seems like everyone knows about your fancies.”

Felix ignores the last sentence. “It’s a magnificent party. It really does feel like we are all in the depths of the ocean here. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“More or less. The food is divine.” He punctuates the remark by grabbing another roll. “If I were less refined, I might just filch the entire tray.”

By the way Mr. Han is marvelling over the selection, Felix does not put it past him. He is not in any place to judge though; he, too, is considering taking a few treats home to eat.

“Mr. Han! And Mr. Lee as well! Good evening.”

Felix does not have to turn around to know who it is. Mr. Han’s sly face gives it all away, and your voice has become all too familiar to him.

Mr. Han greets, “Miss L/N! How lovely you look tonight.”

In the darkness, Felix was not able to see you clearly. Under the phosphorus lights and gas lamps, you are radiant.

He first notices the gold roses, slowly blossoming and then slowly wilting, adorning your head. Then his eyes travel downward to the ribbon choker around your throat and to your shoulders. He quickly averts his eyes to the evening gown you wear — sage green with an understated floral pattern, which perfectly matches your headdress. The fan in your hand is closed shut, the golden handle appearing bronze under the lights. He cannot bring himself to look at your face; he can already imagine the pretty smile you have, and that alone is making him grow warm.

“I do believe that is Miss Choi!” Mr. Han interjects. “Pardon me, I must speak to her immediately.”

You and Felix bid him goodbye, leaving the two of you alone. You wait for him to greet you, speak, something, but nothing comes to mind. He steadily shifts his gaze upwards and tries to lessen his blush when he sees the corner of your mouth quirked up.

“Did they miss you?” he says, breaking the silence. “Miss Shin and the rest of the court, I mean.”

“I don’t think so, being a very busy night and all. I think they were more concerned about dancing.”

Which reminds him…

With as much confidence as he can muster, he holds out his right hand to you. “Would you like to dance, Miss L/N? I recall you requested one.”

You place your left hand in his and let him guide you to the middle of the dance floor. “I must confess, I only came to ask you if you were going to ask me to dance.”

“I would not have forgotten.”

“Are you certain?” you tease. “It seems like you only remembered when mentioned dancing.”

“Believe me, Miss L/N, I would never be able to forget such a bold request.”

He knows exactly where the surge of genuine confidence came from. The second he felt your fingers on his palm, something inside him lit up. Your touch made the moment so much more real, his wishings no longer daydreams.

The quadrille finishes, and the orchestra starts playing a waltz. Though he is stunned by the change — he had been anticipating walking and turning about you, not twirling you around — you are not. While you curtsy as a formal greeting before the dance, you deftly switch your fan to your left hand. Before he can bow in return, you hold his left hand and smile demurely at him.

“I have another confession to make Mr. Lee: I have been waiting to dance with you for the longest time now.”

He cautiously presses his hand to the small of your back, pulling you a bit closer than social customs allows. He can blame it on the crowded ballroom. He can feel your warmth through the fabric, and it occurs to him that you are in his arms just like in all those outdated fairy tales.

“If we are making confessions, then I suppose I have one as well,” he says.

He hears the expectant note in your voice. “And what is it?”

“I wanted to dance with you too.”

It’s a simple statement, but you grin from ear to ear, so bright the rest of the room seems dark in comparison. His heart flutters. When he twirls you around again, you lean your head back and sigh.

“You are marvellous dancer,” you remark as you sweep back your skirts to make more room for him. “Did you take lessons? Or do you just have a natural talent for it?”

“A bit of both. I took some about four years ago during my apprenticeship. I guess I still remember the basics.”

“No time for anymore now, I presume, with the amount of business you have been getting. Ever since I bought the butterfly headdress — do you remember that? It was ages ago, but it was the first one I bought from you.”

Felix remembers that day very well. He had opened his shop just half a year ago, and you and your chaperone stumbled in to wait out the rain. While you were captivated by the beating wings of a butterfly, he was awestruck by your gaiety on such a gloomy day. The silk flowers of your bonnet were drooping, your jacket damp from the incoming storm, and your face flushed from running, but your eyes held wonder and your lips a song.

You sang so much praise for the headdress that he went to bed that night hearing it in his sleep.

“Anyway,” you continue, “from the first time I came to your shop, I just knew you were talented. How long have you been working as a hatmaker? Your age and expertise don’t seem to match up. You are quite young compared to the other mechanical and automaton designers.”

“A year and a half now. I took over the business when my mentor retired. I do not think I am much older than you.”

You ponder over this for a while. “Forgive my forwardness and my lack of regard for etiquette — being friends with Ryujin for so long has its flaws — but are you courting anyone?”

Felix stops breathing for a few seconds. “I am not. Why?”

“Just check— just curious. Well, perhaps you will find someone that interests you here. You could ask someone to dance and talk to them to see if they catch your fancy.” Your expression is innocent, but your words are laced with whimsy.

“Who do you think would be a good match for me?” he asks, playing along. “Surely you know a few of the guests here.”

You pretend to think it over, pursing your lips together in concentration. Felix thickly swallows and glances at the space between your brows instead. His heartbeat is even more erratic than before.

“I don’t like to gossip, but I did hear a rumor that a young lady on the debutante’s court is interested in being courted soon. Her coming-out will be happening this season.”

“Ah, interesting,” he replies in an overly thoughtful manner. “If only I could receive an invite to the event. I am afraid that I am rather unfamiliar with most of the people here.”

“I think I can help with that,” you say. “I will speak to her about it. I’m sure she would love for you to attend.”

He tries to keep an air of nonchalance but fails when he spots your lips twitching into a smile. “Thank you, Miss L/N. I greatly appreciate it.”

Like the scene has been rehearsed before, the waltz ends then. Felix shallowly dips you like the dance dictates and helps right you back up. In doing so, you wind up far closer to him than you were before. You are pressed up against his chest, and he can hear your breaths. With the bubble of intimacy gone and the reality of the situation settling in, Felix hurries backwards, confidence dissipating.

He is not alone though. You snap your fan open, drawing it across your cheeks and concealing your face. He does not think he has seen you this flustered before.

“Thank you for the dance,” you tell him behind the painted screen. “You were a wonderful partner.”

“You were as well.”

The two of you walk to the sidelines together, an appropriate distance apart. He glances over to you occasionally and notes that your usual cool composure has not returned yet. Before Felix can continue the conversation, the excitable young lady — Miss Yuna Whatever-Her-Surname-Is — emerges from the crowd and rushes to you.

“Y/N! Do tell us about it!” she exclaims, forgetting that Felix is right there. She sidles up to you, holds your arm, and waits expectantly for the details.

You duck a little lower behind your fan and hiss, “Yuna!”

“Good night, Miss L/N,” Felix says. “It was a pleasure to dance with you.”

He makes himself scarce but not before he overhears you laugh and sigh, “Yuna Shin, don’t ever do that again. But yes, it was all very lovely.” He swells with joy.

The orchestra has started another waltz, one that is uplifting and bright. Felix hums along to it as he heads to the refreshment table. Almost unsurprisingly, Mr. Han is still there as well with a miniature trifle in hand. The dessert looks unappetizing to Felix with its blue layers, but Mr. Han is enjoying it.

“You don’t like dancing?” Felix says as he inspects the table for a drink.

“The contrary. This is just replenishment for the night.” He spoons another bite into his mouth. “And all the ladies seem to be on the dance floor anyway.”

Felix finds a cup of punch and drinks it heartily. He has never attended a debut ball before, so he is not sure of what there is to do other than dance and mill around. He spends some time observing the creatures in the aquarium nearby. There is unfortunately not an octopus in the glass tanks, leading him to believe that this is the Shins’ own aquarium.

He returns back to Mr. Han, and the two spy a few of their creations in the crowd. They all seem to be garnering attention from other guests, which bodes well for their financial future. Mr. Han, who is much more knowledgeable about who is who, updates him on the latest news regarding each of the guests. Felix nods along, only partially paying attention to his words as he watches couples dance at the same time.

As much fun as it is to be an observer though, it gets dull quickly when Felix realizes how much he would rather be home than here. He has no idea where you currently are, but it would be impolite for him to monopolize your time with another dance. Not to mention, it would stir rumors, and he wants no part in them.

“Would it be rude to leave now?” he rhetorically asks.

Mr. Han ponders over this. “Considering it has only been an hour, I think so, but let’s leave anyway.” He picks up a napkin and starts surreptitiously piling rolls and tarts inside. “Keep watch for me.”

Felix complies by standing right in front of the napkin and thus obstructing the view from the rest of the room. “You just said it would be rude.”

“I have to open early tomorrow, and so do you. New commissions to work on and all that.”

The people in his life, Felix notes, have a tendency to disregard social customs. However, he does not mind in this case or your case. Mr. Han filches a few more desserts at the behest of Felix, and the two wait for Miss Shin to finish her waltz to say goodbye.

“So early? The ball has just begun! And what if a problem arises?”

Felix gives this comment pause, but Mr. Han bats it away as if it were merely a pesky bug. “Miss Shin, I assure you that all of my — and Mr. Lee’s as well — are in perfect working order. When has anything I made for you been otherwise?”

While the two of them discuss this, Felix stands by and adds whatever he can. Both Mr. Han and Miss Shin are quick with their replies, and there is hardly a break in between. However, Miss Shin eventually concedes after learning of the new work they have to start.

“Very well. Thank you for attending” — she taps one of the brass tentacles on her skirt with her matching fan — “and for this beautiful evening gown. And thank you for the wonderful headdress, Mr. Lee.”

“It was our pleasure,” Felix answers. “Good night, Miss Shin.”

Felix and Mr. Han make their way to the exit, sidestepping the people lingering around the windows. Felix glances around to find you. He wants to give you a proper goodbye, but you are nowhere to be seen. There are no gold roses in the sea of people. He resigns to his predicament and hopes that you will not be too disappointed that he danced and left.

The area outside the mansion, swarming with exhilarated guests not too long ago, is empty. The blue lamps illuminating the cobblestone path seem forlorn instead of lively, and the silence only emphasizes the feeling.

“I’ll get the carriage,” Mr. Han offers, already heading in that direction. “Just wait here.”

Felix sits on the last step of the stairs and listens to the crickets in the bushes. The moon is higher in the sky now, and the wind from earlier has died down to a breeze. He sighs and loosens his cravat leans backwards on his forearms, enjoying the cool air on his face. It is a pleasant contrast to the party inside.

“You could have said goodbye at least.”

When he turns around, fumbling about and trying to make himself presentable again, you are standing a few steps above him. You said the words jokingly, but he hears the hurt underneath.

“I apologize,” he whispers. The darkness hides his guilt well. “I couldn’t find you.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Not one for parties, I take it?”

“I only came to talk and dance with you,” he admits, growing more embarrassed by the second. “If things were different, I would stay all night, but once I used my chance, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“We could have still chatted after.” You walk down to his step and sit beside him, the silk of your gown brushing against his leg. The only thing separating the two of you is your wide skirt. You place your hand only a few centimeters away from his on the steps. “I know I was acting a bit silly earlier, so I want to ask you outright. Forgive my forwardness, but do you intend to court me, or am I just seeing things that are not there?”

Felix goes still. He had not thought about his feelings that way. He certainly likes you, but a courtship never even crossed his mind because of how far up the social ladder you were. He wanted to catch your eye, but he never thought you would pay genuine attention back to him.

“Because if you do,” you continue after he says nothing, “I want to be courted seriously. If you are merely teasing me, then tell me now.”

“Miss L/N, are you teasing me now? I am no one important, yet you pursue me.”

“I am not teasing, I swear,” you solemnly say, looking directly into his eyes. “I will not play with your heart like that. And to me, you are important. Never mind the wonderful things you have made for me, I like you. You and how industrious you are, how assured you are in yourself, how you play along with my jokes for my sake. You are nothing like all the rakes and fops around me.”

He can hardly believe his ears. After a tense silence, he says, “If you will let me, I will court you seriously.”

“Mr. Lee, I have always allowed it. Every joke, every smile — it was an invitation for you.” He glances over at you in shock, and you halfheartedly smile at him. “Perhaps I was not clear enough about my advances.”

“No. I was simply too afraid to act upon them. I did not realize your intentions were pure.”

“I assure you, Mr. Lee, you were the only gentleman I flirted with.”

The nearby sound of a horse trotting interrupts the moment. Felix glances down to where the stables are and spies a silhouetted carriage approaching. Mr. Han was quick with his task, and Felix wishes he had been less so.

Having seen the same thing, you stand up and fluff out your skirt, preparing to go back inside. The silk ripples in waves, and Felix stares in fascination. You catch him in the act and flash him a knowing smile. “Good night. I hope to see you soon.”

Felix bashfully replies, “Good night.”

You give him one last look and hurry away before company arrives. Your head bobs up and down as you take the stairs two by two, and Felix watches you disappear into the mansion. He is still staring at the door when the carriage drives up.

“Mr. Lee!”

“Coming!”

The journey back to the city is mostly silent since Mr. Han seems worn out by the night’s events already. Felix does not try to engage him in conversation, choosing instead to sink into the velvet seat and to admire the sky. If he looks at it long enough, he thinks he can see your face among the constellations.

The following days, all Felix hears about in the sparse amount of time he interacts with customers — his shop has been mostly devoid of hats and headdresses ever since Miss Shin introduced him to all her friends — is Miss Shin’s debut. Every piece of gossip he overhears while out revolves around it and the other upcoming debut balls in the season. On one of his outings to the market, your name is mentioned, and he stops in his tracks. He pretends to check his pocket watch and turns it over and over in his hands as if he has found a new scuff mark on the brass.

“I heard she sent out the invites already,” says the young lady with a pink bonnet. “Did you get one?”

“Of course! But Tzuyu Chou’s ball is on the same night, so which one do I go to?”

“Both, silly! Just leave one of them early and—”

Once the topic changes, Felix quits his act and continues onward to the market. He has not received an invitation to your ball yet, and surely that was what you were alluding to during the waltz. Perhaps you are going to hand-deliver it yourself. That is all he can hope for because the other reason is that you have changed your mind about him.

When he returns to his shop with new bronze sheets and copper wiring, he is disappointed. You are not waiting outside nor is there an envelope tucked underneath his door. Felix brews himself a cup of tea and settles at his work table chair. He pulls out his sketches for a hat decorated with swimming fish and starts on its construction. All he can do now is wait.

After several days and far too much time spent agonizing over the issue, you finally grace Felix’s shop with your presence. When the bell on the door chimes and he sees you at the threshold, he nearly leaps out from behind the counter, shoving away his tools in a weak attempt to appear well put together. He wipes a spot of grease from his brow with the back of his hand and bows at you in greeting.

“Welcome. How may I be of service?”

“Are you accepting custom orders right now?” you ask, walking closer to him. Your chaperone follows closely behind to ensure that you are not about to blatantly flirt with him again, though Felix has a sneaking feeling that you will anyway. “I heard you might be busy. It seems like everyone wants a hat from you now.”

“What did you have in mind?”

You glance at the current project is working on. “Actually, that one seems interesting. Or is it someone else’s?”

The clockwork hat is indeed someone else’s, Miss Lia Choi, to be precise. “It is.”

“Ah, I see.” You do not look the slightest bit dejected at the news. “Well, I think something with butterflies would be lovely. I have lots of good memories involving them, so I want them to be part of my debut ball.”

Felix cannot get a single sound out, so he elects to duck back behind the counter. He picks up his pencil and rolls out another sheet of butcher paper. The blank canvas stares back at him, and he hastily sketches the form of the headdress like he wants to show you an idea he has in mind. He has nothing in his mind. He cannot think after a statement like that. He puts the pencil down.

“I can have a rough draft of the headdress done in a few days,” he says. “Or do you have a design planned out?”

“Perhaps something like this?” You take the pencil from the counter, your fingers brushing against his in a manner that is not accidental.

While Felix does his best to maintain his composure in front of your chaperone — she seems to not have noticed your gesture, thankfully — you draw a cluster of butterflies on the side of the headdress and small flowers to fill in the gaps. You mindlessly hum a melody as you sketch, and it sounds awfully similar to a waltz he danced to sometime ago.

You push the paper towards him. “Here.”

He glances over it, lightly touching the lines and curves with his finger. It is a pretty design and very extravagant. He will likely have to make some adjustments so you can actually wear it without injuring your neck, but it is possible to make it into a reality. “I will get to work on it soon. When do you need it by?”

“As soon as possible.” You open your reticule and set down a sheaf of banknotes so large, Felix cannot see your hand at all. “I know you have a long line of customers, so I will pay double the regular price for it to be finished in two weeks’ time.”

He would have done it without the monetary incentive anyway. Nonetheless, he nods and assures you that it will be done by then. You audibly sigh and thank him in advance for his timeliness.

“Is that all for today?” he asks. He wants you to say no, to make up an excuse to stay.

To his disappointment and seemingly to your own as well, you reply, “Yes. I’ve got a busy day ahead of myself. Well, good day. It is always a pleasure coming to your shop.”

“Good day.”

He watches you leave. You do not turn around to give him one last look like he anticipates. Your chaperone is keeping a careful eye on you and your antics, and she is following close behind as you out the door anyway. However, you do smile at him through the window. Even though you will not be able to see it, he returns it.

Once you are out of view, he collects the banknotes on the counter to put away. As he does so, he notices a corner of an envelope peeking out from the pile.

Mr. Felix Lee, it says across the front in black ink.

Could this be the invitation he has been waiting so long for? He does not know what else it could be, but he is still nervous. With trembling fingers, he breaks open the glossy red seal and takes out the stiff cardstock inside.

You have been cordially invited to Miss Y/N L/N’s debut.

He laughs, one mixed with relief and pure joy, and it echoes throughout the shop. The sound bounces off the empty walls like a never-ending symphony of happiness.

Once the euphoria has waned a bit, he sets his previous project and begins refining your sketch. He traces over your butterfly wings, adding more dimension and adjusting angles as he does so. He can already see it coming to life, the wings beating in harmony to the music, the delicate twitches of the antennae as you move your head.

To think that you will be wearing this at your coming-out and that he will be there to see it. Though it is an inside joke between the two of you, it might as well be a public declaration of courtship to him.

He works on your headdress almost feverishly, neglecting his other projects for as long as he can afford. When Mr. Han comes by for tea and a chat a few days later — they have become friends after Miss Shin’s ball — Felix is frantically soldering the minute hand onto one of the many tiny clocks on this hat.

“Do you want any help?” Mr. Han asks, popping the last bite of his biscuit into his mouth. “I do have experience with metalworking, you know.”

“I’m alright,” he mutters. The client is supposed to be arriving within the hour, and he cannot imagine how damaged his reputation will be if someone else other than himself is found working on the hat. He shudders as he pictures the suspicion on his customers’ faces. “Sorry for not being better company.”

“Don’t fret. I only came because I had news regarding Miss L/N.”

Felix nearly misplaces the minute hand in his surprise. He feigns nonchalance at Mr. Han’s statement. “Oh?”

“Do you know Lord Seungmin Kim? Apparently, he is interested in courting her. I overheard someone say that he is to be her partner for the first dance.”

Felix says nothing, just grips his tool tighter and intently stares at the tiny Roman numerals in front of him. He did not expect to be chosen for the honor of the first dance, but it does not mean his pride goes unhurt. Lord Kim, a nobleman with wealth and connections, is well above him in terms of social status.

“That’s… that’s impressive,” he says.

“Yes, and I also heard that she does not want him to be her partner. Something about another gentleman in mind.”

Mr. Han looks pointedly at Felix, who pointedly pretends not to notice it. He affixes the hand to the remaining clock and checks everything once more for any careless errors. His heart thumps in his chest, twice the speed of the soft tick-tocking of the miniature clocks. If he is the alleged gentleman you have in mind, then the first dance would truly be a public declaration.

“Have you been invited?” Mr. Han asks, though it seems as if he already knows the answer.

“Yes. What about you?”

“No.”

As far as he can tell, there are no flaws with the hat, so he puts his tools away. “You seem content with that,” he remarks as he rummages around in his cabinets for an empty hatbox.

“Of course! I will only miss the food, so do filch some for me. I did it at Miss Shin’s.”

Felix makes a noise in acknowledgment. The gears in his head are working overtime as he plots out what your debut will be like. You and him, in each other’s arms, in front of everyone. What will they say? What will he do afterwards?

The sound of a ringing bell interrupts his thoughts, and in flies Miss Choi, another member of Miss Shin’s court and a friend of yours.

“Is it ready? Please tell me it is! I have been waiting all day for it!” she says, breathless from her bursting in. She spies it sitting on the counter and immediately sets it on her head. “It’s lovely! And not heavy at all.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Choi,” the two men chorus.

“Oh, yes. Good afternoon. I didn’t know you two knew each other this well,” she distractedly says. She turns to Felix, her hand reaching for her reticule. “I paid for this already, right?”

He nods. “Last week.”

“Perfect. Oh, goodness” — she glances at the wall-mounted clock behind Felix — “Y/N will be cross with me for being late. I will see you at the ball then, Mr. Lee. Thank you again. Goodbye!”

She leaves in the same frenzied manner as she came, and her worn out chaperone hurries after her.

“That was a confirmation if I ever heard one. She must know the details.”

“That was nothing.” Yet he desperately hopes that it was something.

“You keep pretending that as if no one knows of you and Miss L/N’s relationship. Everyone knows she fancies you, and you her, so there is no need to keep putting up this act.” Mr. Han sighs and crumples up his paper napkin. “I ought to get back to work now. Thank you for the tea.”

“Thank you for the company. Good day, Mr. Han.”

Mr. Han stands up from his seat, throwing his coat back, and heads for the door. “Good day. Do not forget about the food.”

Felix rolls his eyes, but a small smile forces its way onto his face anyway. “I won’t.”

Possibly the most important day of Felix’s day has arrived. He adjusts his cuffs, his cravat, his shirt — everything really — mindlessly as he waits for the time to tick down. He is restless. His usually nimble fingers turn clumsy when he tries to work on a hat for a client, and he cannot focus on anything. He has not seen you since you dropped off the invitation all those days ago. Your chaperone came to pick up your headdress, and she gave him a cool onceover before advising that he come to the ball a tad earlier.

As such, he locks up his shop two hours before the starting time and makes the walk to the banquet hall where your debut is being held. He could have rented a carriage like Mr. Han did for that seemingly long ago ball, but the hall is not too far away. Being dressed in finery, he receives curious looks from passersby and more batting eyelashes from young girls than he likes.

By the time he arrives at the hall, dusk is darkening into night. The gas lamps on the streets have lit up. He is a little more than half an hour early, which is hopefully sufficient for whatever reason why he was suggested to do so. There are no signs of guests, and stricken by the fact that he has no idea what to do, Felix idles around the entrance. He cannot just barge in; that would be rude. He incessantly checks his pocket watch for the time, wishing that someone would come and save him for this predicament.

Fortunately, his wishes are soon answered. The main doors open, and out steps you in all of your radiance. Your eyes meet his, and all he can do is gaze at you.

Your dress is reminiscent of what you wore at Miss Shin’s debut: a green evening gown dotted with tiny pink blossoms, and gold trim around the shoulders that complements the gilded butterflies that swarm around your head. Green and gold appear to be your signature colors, and you wear them well. Even the lighting seems to be in your favor; warm light spills behind you, highlighting the wisps of your hair.

“Oh, Mr. Lee! I was just coming out to see if you were here yet. Fei said she told you to come early.”

He thickly swallows before greeting, “Good evening, Miss L/N. You look… stunning.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome yourself. Do come in. I have something to discuss with you.”

He follows you to the main hall where the ball is to be held. The entire room is decorated like a greenhouse with vines tumbling down the walls and perfumed flowers on every surface. It is bright inside, as if the banquet hall has been bathed in sunlight. Stationary butterflies hang down from the ceiling, while steel dragonflies are strung like lights across the room. Your court members and some chaperones linger around the refreshment table, no doubt taste testing the morsels you have decided upon. Felix spots a tray of small tea cakes in the shape of leaves and makes a mental note to take a few for Mr. Han.

Upon seeing the two of you walking nearby each other, Miss Wang, your usual chaperone, lets out a theatrical gasp. “Miss L/N! Why did you not ask me to accompany you? You should know better. And on this day as well!”

“Miss Wang, no one is fooled by you. Besides, if it were to be on any day, today is the best choice,” interjects Miss Ryujin Shin, who holds a cup of punch in her hand. “After all, this is the gentleman she desires to court anyway.”

The other chaperones do not seem shocked by this revelation, presumably because they all knew already. Miss Choi and Miss Yuna Shin even clink their glasses against Miss Ryujin Shin’s in a mock toast.

“Ryujin’s right,” you agree. You turn your attention to Felix, and the room goes quiet. “I thought it would be best to ask you in person, and I know I don’t give you much time to think about it, but will you be my partner for the first dance? I meant to ask you the last time I visited, but there were a few things that had to be sorted out before I could.”

The orchestra begins rehearsing then, and the triumphant music perfectly matches how he feels. “I would be honored.”

The ball begins precisely at the hour, but guests begin allowing themselves inside a few minutes before. While you flitter about, greeting guests of importance and smiling at compliments, Felix mills around the sidelines in anticipation of the dance. He recognizes some of his customers, a couple of which say hello and show off the hats and headdresses he has designed for them. He politely engages in conversation with them before looking back at you. He does not know when the dance will begin, and he wants to be prepared for the moment.

Once he is alone again, you approach him with a secretive smile. “Are you ready?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Of course. Let the ball begin.”

He holds out his hand for you, and you lead him to the center of the dance floor. The crowd takes note of this, and their chatter dies down to murmurs. Felix overhears some of the whispers, most of which are confused questions of who exactly he is, where Lord Kim is, and why you have selected him of all people. They take in his second-rate coat and the way you gaze at him in wonder. It has to be a jest, someone nearby mumbles.

However, you are unfazed by it all. You look over to the orchestra and give them a slight nod. They stop their light, airy opening number and begin a waltz piece. The butterfly wings of your headdress beat at the same tempo, and he suppresses a chuckle at the sight.

This time, Felix holds you at a respectable distance away, not wanting to exacerbate the growing rumors. More couples join in on the floor, but most of the attention is focused on the two of you.

“Everyone is watching,” he whispers as he twirls you around.

“I am the debutante,” you reply. “And it is only natural people stare at such a handsome gentleman.”

You flirt even more shamelessly than before, not even bothering to hide your flattery behind sly words. He has still not gotten used to it, which means his burning red ears are on display for everyone. Still, he smiles. “You will be alright with this when we court?”

“Of course. Will you?”

“Of course,” he repeats. “And will you be alright with your beau being more attractive than you?”

He has never teased you before, and you laugh at his overly serious demeanor as he says it. “Mr. Lee! Well, how could I be upset with having such a striking beau, especially one with charms like yours.”

He twirls you around again and pulls you a fraction closer. “I suppose this is as good as a time as any to ask: will you, Miss L/N, allow me to court you officially?”

You completely close the gap, earning several gasps from onlookers and Felix himself as your chest presses against his. With a wide grin on your face, you say, “Mr. Lee, I will.”

It is all anyone can talk about the following day: Miss Y/N L/N of a wealthy, upper class family is set to be courted by Mr. Felix Lee, the popular mechanical hatmaker. Through the shop window, Felix can see passersby trying to get a glimpse of him inside as he works. He has to close his store for the day because of the sheer amount of people visiting and treating him like an animal at an aquarium.

By the time the sun sets, less and less people pass by. By the time the gas lamps light up the street, your carriage drives up the street and stops in front of the store. You step out in a cornflower blue gown and knock on the door. Felix has been ready for you for hours now.

“Hello, Mr. Lee,” you greet. Your excitement is palpable as you say, “Shall we go on our first walk together?”

“Good evening, Miss L/N. And to you as well, Miss Wang.”

Your chaperone follows behind the two of you, ensuring that the two of you — well, mostly you — will be proper.

“Where shall we go? Around the block for tonight?” he suggests.

“My dear Mr. Lee, I will go anywhere you wish.”

Miss Wang halfheartedly reprimands you for the term of endearment, but Felix does not mind. You share a glance with him, and he already knows you will be calling him ‘dear’ until the end of time.

He could get used to that.

~ ad.gray

294 notes · View notes

blush-and-books · 3 years

Text

i’m sorry, but i fell in love tonight

short fic based off of this gifset by @juliesmolinas and the song is there somewhere by halsey. in fact it is mandatory that you listen to the song/read the lyrics/both before/during reading this. yes i said mandatory.

angst with a sappy ending, julie goes through a lifetime of emotions in less than 3k, was originally gonna write when i was in a more emotionally raw state but writing this made me emotionally raw so... enjoy <3

warnings: swearing

Julie made the promise at some point -- she just doesn’t know exactly when.

It may have been when he appeared at her school, all shy smiles and soft glances, professing that she made him a better writer. Or, more definitively, it could have been when she forlornly pulled him into her arms a moment before she was positive that she was to lose him forever.

All that she knew was her time with Luke was fleeting. So she swore that her butterfly-wing crush was not allowed to fill her chest or dizzy her thoughts; that his lyrics would mean nothing more next to hers than words on a page and his touches would bring her little to no comfort.

Luke Patterson could not complete her.

The universe wouldn’t allow it -- and neither would Julie Molina.

But -- either Luke was blissfully unaware of their impending doom or he genuinely didn’t care -- he forced himself through every barrier she attempted to erect. And it was driving her nearly insane, because she made a promise to protect herself.

Maybe she wasn’t strong enough to do it. Or maybe the universe, despite refusing to give Julie Luke in his entirety, did not want her to be protected.

It was all in the little things-

When she stayed up with him in the garage, playing him all of the songs he’s missed in 25 years, and he danced around on the slippery floor in his socks and grinned at her with wide green eyes. The neon emerald in the dim light was reminiscent of driving on the highway and passing sign after sign leading to the exits she could have taken, but couldn’t bring herself to.

How New Years Eve arrived and the Molina family gathered in the driveway to light sparklers; Luke’s hand brushing hers as he passed off one of the two in his hands.

In his head lulling onto her shoulder while she was trying to finish some homework with his help on the torn couch and his lips moving against her bare skin as he mumbled that she needed to take a break before driving herself insane; followed by her braiding her hair to get it out of her face.

She already had driven herself insane -- but not over her homework.

(His mouth on her shoulder was the answer to a prayer she never dared to murmur aloud.)

Luke never failed to be present when he was needed. If she was sick or stressed or depressed, he knew when to fuse to her side and when to offer some space. Through careful observation rather than conversation, he knew which of her many sweatshirts were reserved for illness or emotional support.

In most of those situations, she needed him, too. Her fingernails would curl into his biceps through a cramp or wave of tears and he would wrap her in his embrace and swarm her with warm words that dried her eyes.

She hated it.

When they wrote music, it felt as though they were already reading each other's minds before either of them had spoken a word about their plans. Their journals contained inky black waterfalls spilled from an intimacy that Julie did not want to dissect.

Again, she hated it. She loved it more than anything and hated that she loved it all -- because it could never be real.

She would always play second fiddle to death.

Julie made the promise to herself to not let Luke complete her because, while she had him for now, the night of the Orpheum was a reminder that the universe would not hesitate to snap it’s fingers and eliminate him from existence.

The universe, being the confusing, stubborn bitch it is, just didn’t get the memo on that promise.

Because Luke filled every crack and restored every gap in her being, and he shouldn’t.

The hopeless, pining romantic in her that constantly argued with her realist side said they were meant to meet. Even if it was brief and heartbreaking and had the power to hurt her in a way she didn’t understand, it had to happen. If it wasn’t supposed to happen, then how and why did he cross space and time only to fall at her feet?

(Soulmates, a taunting voice whispered. Soulmates.)

((The voice was locked in a closet as punishment.))

She didn’t want to entertain the word. It had too much of a forlorn, wistfully romantic sound to it that Julie didn’t need to associate with Luke when she spent most moments with him at this point convincing herself that she wasn’t in love.

Until tonight.

It is past midnight, which is when anyone’s mental state starts to alter. Things that would be labelled as bad ideas in the daylight could very possibly become fair game when shrouded in a darkness that made everything private. The two of them, Luke and Julie, Julie and Luke, are nestled together on the piano bench as her fingers tiredly press each cut of ivory in a working melody.

“I have an idea,” Luke says, gently shifting his left hand to cover hers on the keys. “Why don’t we press pause on this song for a minute?”

Then, she finally looks up at him. Her eyes probably have crescents like the dark side of the moon crossing her skin, and her hair is all over the place, but he’s staring at her in one of the rare ways that she hates.

She hates it because the look convinces her that she completes him.

This time, however, there’s a hope. A hope, and a hesitance, and she’s simultaneously extremely nervous and beyond curious as to what his plans are.

“Did- Didn’t you want to finish this tonight?”

Regret strikes across his face, but he recovers. The softness is back. “Yeah, I just think we need a change of pace.” Right hand on the back of his neck: A telltale sign of a confession of some kind. She’s seen it more times than is healthy. “There was another song I wanted to show you, actually.”

“Oh.” She blinks, he waits. “Yeah, uh, I mean, yeah. Show me. What do you have so far?” He clears his throat as he thrums through the pages to find his target. “The whole thing.”

Julie doesn’t have time to react -- although she’s already in a panic -- before the leather-bound book is being awkwardly shoved into her hands, and the first thing she sees at the top is Luke’s nearly illegible scribble of Dark Room (song for Julie).

“Luke-”

“Just read it.” His voice is significantly raspier than it was a minute ago. “Please.”

She can’t. If he feels the same way and the confession is undeniably in front of her, then what is she supposed to do? Would she rather break Luke’s heart now to save them both down the line, or delay the misery a little longer?

It’s not that she doesn’t want it -- she does. But she doesn’t know if she’s emotionally equipped for any of the options that are offered to her. The destination of any path she chooses leads to a world of heartache.

So, she does the only thing she can think in the moment: She reads the song.

Instantly, the lyrics are blurred from the tears in her eyes because she sees the words “love” and “together” and her greatest fears and grandest wishes are coming true. The sonnet proclaims that she’s his light that illuminated his once-dark forever, and that he was hers when they didn’t even know each other, and that he will be hers wherever he ends up next.

He just wanted her to know that he would have waited another lifetime in the blank, limitless limbo he was in for 25 years if he knew she would be there when he was set free.

And, in the moment, Julie allows herself to acknowledge that her promise is broken.

She’s fallen in love.

And, apparently, he has too.

(Maybe they can claim just one night. The universe owes them that much, doesn’t it?)

“Julie?” God, he sounds so worried. A shaking finger trails up her jaw to catch falling tears, and his contact makes her gasp. He pulls away and shoves his hands together to fidget in his lap. “Julie, are you- Fuck, I’m sorry, I just fucked this up, didn’t I? I fucked it all up. Fuck, I-”

When she chances a look up at him for the first time in the couple of minutes that she’s been staring, hopelessly, at the song in her lap -- he’s got his face covered by his hands pressing roughly into his eyes, and he’s turned to face the piano instead of her.

He takes a deep breath, and it sounds…

Stuffy.

Three more tears leak from Julie’s eyes. More build up every minute as her right hand runs along his shoulder, “Luke…”

“No, Julie, please just drop it.”

“Luke.”

“I clearly misread a lot of stuff, and I’m tired, so maybe you can just go to bed and forget-”

Her hand wraps tightly around his upper arm like it’s done so many times when she has been in distress. “Luke.”

There’s a crack in her voice from sheer desperation. She needs him to look at her, so that she can wipe his tears and smile through the sobs and tell him he didn’t misread a single thing. She would wait a lifetime for him to come out of the dark room, she loves him too, and she’s going to forget all about it.

And ask him to do the same.

At least the scratch of his name catches his attention long enough, because he angles back towards her, and swallows thickly before meeting her eyes. Salty teardrops linger against his eyelids and eyelashes; the red rimming illuminating the oceanic green to look like a gemstone. Her grip relaxes.

“Yeah, Julie?”

She attempts a smile. “The song is beautiful, Luke. I love it.”

I love you.

“That’s it? It’s beautiful, and you love it, but you don’t… I’m not in your dreambox, huh?”

He clearly hasn’t dug through it in awhile. He’s everywhere. Discarded guitar picks and notes he’s left in her school journals and plenty, plenty of songs.

It’s funny, because she told him her dreambox was for things that didn’t make her sad. Luke was a double-edged sword -- making her happy every day in a new way, and making her cry into her pillow at night.

How does she explain this? There’s a whirlwind of responses running through her brain and she can barely coherently comprehend any of them.

“No,” she finds herself sighing as she raises her hand to his cheek, followed by her other hand so that he can’t try and turn away. “No, Luke, no… You’re wrong.”

“What do you mean ‘I’m wrong?’”

Her bottom lip starts to shake. “You think I don’t love you back.” Both of them feel their breath catch at her use of the word out loud. It feels like a secret that shouldn’t be repeated. “And you’re wrong.”

“... I’m wrong.”

“Of course you’re wrong! You really think I don’t love you back?”

“Why are you crying if you love me?”

“Because we can’t do this!”

He scoffs, and Julie’s heart is racing in her chest as he pushes himself off of the piano bench and her hands fall from his face. What has she done?

“That’s bull, Julie.” His fingertips tug at his hair. “You don’t need to make a big dramatic show to convince me it’s wrong just to let me down easy. You aren’t going to talk me out of this.” Dead-on, he stops pacing back and forth, and looks her in the eye. “I love you.”

Listening to him say it, the way his mouth moves and his voice ticks with conviction at each syllable, is what makes her break.

“And I love you too.”

He reels back. He probably wasn’t expecting her voice to raise from their odd, in-between whisper and normal volume.

“But don’t you get it? Luke, we aren't in some magical place where we can meet each other in the middle. A place like that doesn’t exist. You’re dead, and I’m alive, and any future here ends with both of us losing each other.”

“Julie-”

“You said you would wait another lifetime, right?” Using his own lyrics against him. She watches his hands twitch before nodding; the movements of his head barely visible. “Then wait. Another lifetime, another two -- the fucking universe clearly didn’t want us to have this one, so we’re stuck waiting for the next one.”

Even through his clear and fighting need to argue, to talk with her about this, he stiffly nods his head. It’s obvious that she has thought way too much about this from the way she’s barely choking out each word before crumbling into tears before his eyes -- but then again, he’s thought about it too.

Callused hands are running along her neck to tilt her face up out of the blue. She was too busy crying to notice that he had crossed the distance between them to stand right in front of her and assure that she was meeting his eyes.

“Luke-”

“No, Julie, it’s my turn. Please.”

She won’t argue with him. So, with a tender swipe of his thumbs under her eyes, he proceeds.

“Look, I get it. You think I don’t get it? I fucking hate being dead, for so many reasons, Julie. But if I never died, I never would have met you.” Her lips part, and maybe he thinks she’s going to protest because he smoothly lifts a finger in front of her lips that barely makes contact.

(Julie almost presses her lips into it.)

“And you’re right. I wish there was somewhere that we could meet in the middle, but we don’t have that. I wish so many things, Julie. But none of them involve a life where I don’t have you.”

She whimpers, because listening to the man that normally chains his emotions in a cage bare his soul to her at nearly one in the morning is a seriously more out-of-body experience than she expected. She knew, deep down, that she loved him. But she never allowed herself to feel the all-encompassing warmth that she feels now.

“But hey, Julie, look at me,” he coaxes her with a tone that drips with affection. The pads of his fingers are nearly kneading into the back of her neck. “Like you said: The universe didn’t want to give us this lifetime. They couldn’t let us have all the fun, right?” Both of them let out a watery chuckle. “But they still brought me to you, didn’t they? They let me know you in this lifetime, even if we couldn’t have forever. I said I would be yours wherever I am. So even if this,” he gestures to his ghostly form, “isn’t forever, even if we don’t have this lifetime… You know I’ll love you forever, right?”

It was a monologue straight from one of her dreams that left her waking up with a manic smile and tears running down her face.

Unable to form any other response besides an unaware nod, Julie waits for him to continue.

“And maybe, the universe will give us the next lifetime, or a whole new universe, or… Just somewhere where we can get forever.”

Abruptly, his hands slide from her neck and grasp her hands like he needs to hold on firmly enough to believe that she’s still real in front of him. Julie is still speechless and teary, and in the most sentimental gesture, Luke kisses the back of both of her hands.

“We’ll get forever, Julie.” His warm breath puffs against her skin. “I promise you.”

And, well, if he promises forever in the next life -- then why can’t she take what she can get in this one?

tags: @bluefirewrites @willexx @unsaid-emily @lydias--stiles @moreflowersthanweeds @pink-flame

#this will also be posted on ao3 lmao #jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #jukebox #palina #juke fanfic #jatp fanfic

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hughjidiot · 3 years

Text

Long Live the King (Working Title) An Amphibia Fanfiction Sneak Peak

Hey guys, Hugh Jidiot here back with something... a little different. So not long after True Colors (god that feels like a lifetime ago) I came up for an idea for an AU fanfiction, with the point of divergence being that Anne’s final blow kills Andrias. So his threat is eliminated, but Anne is still understandably pissed off an Sasha and Marcy for, well, everything. Despite having the means to go home the three hold off while they work out their issues, with Anne stating she needs time away from Sasha and Marcy to think. Of course things get complicated when The Night, now with its main pawn dead, uses Anne’s link with the heart gem to reach out and form a connection with her, whispering in her ear and fueling her feelings of betrayal and fury...

It’ll still be a while before I actually write this story. Wanna see The Night in action in season three, learn what it is, what it’s plan is and how it works with possessed Marcy before I try writing possessed/corrupted Anne. But I do have this beginning section typed up, written shortly after I watched True Colors and wanted to let off a little steam. Figured I’d give my readers a taste of what’s to come, see what you all think of my little AU idea. TRIGGER WARNING: BLOOD AND GORE

---

“No, it can’t be…” King Andrias Leviathan said in what would be the final few minutes of his life.

The Ruler of Amphibia, Peacekeeper of A Thousand Years and First of His Name stared in shock as a glowing blue aura emanated from the heart gemstone of the Calamity Box, reaching out to envelop the human girl kneeling on the floor of the throne room. The cloud of energy wrapped itself around Anne Boonchuy, shimmering and flickering. Behind her, the Plantars Hopediah and Polly, rebellion leader Grime and his human collaborator Sasha Waybright watched with wide eyes and gaping mouths, equally stunned. Everyone was so engrossed that no one noticed Marcy Wu leap out of the window where Andrias had tossed Sprig Plantar just moments before, whistling for her trusty sparrow steed.

“She’s still connected to the stone!” Andrias said, more to himself than anything. “But that’s impossible!”

This wasn’t supposed to happen. The girls were supposed to have completely severed their connections to the Calamity Gems, undoing the prophecy and finally allowing Andrias to finish the work his ancestors began a millennia ago.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He was supposed to be in control!

“What’s going on?!” Hop Pop half-asked, half-yelled.

“I don’t know!” Grime replied, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the harsh azure light. “Maybe it’s a human thing!”

Anne’s hair began to glow a bright blue. The branches in her hair grew longer, leaves sprouting from the long-dead wood. Her hair writhed and danced like a campfire as she slowly stood up.

“This is not a human thing,” Sasha said quietly.

“Give him back,” Anne snarled, an echoing reverb to her voice. A single tear ran down her cheek as her raised hands clenched into fists. “Give… him… back!”

The last word came out as a furious scream. Anne’s eyes shone blue like searchlights as a wave of pure energy shot up from her body. Sensing a hostile target, two of Andrais’s frog robots raised their glowing arm cannons as Anne knelt back down and pushed up with both hands.

Anne launched herself into the air with blinding speed, the sheer force of the shockwave blasting the robots to bits before they even had a chance to fire.

Andrias blinked, staring at the empty space where Anne had been just milliseconds before. “Where’d she-”

His words were cut short as Anne flew back down in a blue blur, extended fist slamming into Andrias’ face with the force of a cannonball. Anne flew back, tears of rage streaming from glowing eyes. The king tasted blood and felt several of his teeth crack as he stumbled backwards, his crown flying off with such force that it embedded itself in the wall across the room.

Hop Pop, Polly, Grime and Sasha gasped.

Anne landed in a crouch on the floor as Andrias regained his footing. He glared down at her, murderous intent in his steely gaze.

I’m still in control, Andrias thought, unwavering.

This was just a minor setback. Easily fixed.

Snarling, he clasped his hands together over his head and brought them down onto Anne in a furious overhead blow, striking with enough force to shatter the stone floor. With a wicked smile Andrias opened his hands, expecting to find them covered in gore.

And finding nothing.

Andrias gasped, then noticed the orange and brown leaves drifting down from below. He looked up to see that blasted human girl crouching on the ceiling, glaring down at him with those piercing blue eyes as her glowing aura flared.

Anne launched herself downwards with a blue flash.

I’m still in control, Andrias thought, enraged.

He could still turn this around.

“Fire!” Andrias ordered his few remaining robots. The frog robots raised their arm cannons, unleashing a barrage of crimson energy bolts. Dozens of blasts were fired in a fraction of a second, called forth to kill.

Anne dodged each and every one, her body twisting in the air as she weaved around the deadly beams like wind through a forest. She let out a war cry as she spiraled downwards with a glowing blue fist.

At the last possible second Andrias raised his arm and activated his energy shield, a piece of Amphibian technology from a long-forgotten age that he kept hidden under his armor at all times. A glowing orange shield sprang forth, and Anne’s fist collided with it in an explosion of light and energy that forced Andrias to shut his eyes tight. The robots surrounding Andrias were blown to bits by the shockwave, the spectators struggling to stay on their feet.

Andrias felt a weight like a boulder bearing down on him. From his sleeve came a faint and rapid beeping, the metal and wires warm against his skin. Already the tech was being pushed to its absolute limit.

Andrias opened his eyes to see Anne glowering down at him, fist still pressed against his shield, her body at an angle as the force of her new powers propelled her downwards.

The weight increased, forcing Andrias to one knee as he braced his shield with his other arm. Anne’s aura crackled, beams of lightning arcing from her body that exploded against the throne room’s stone pillars. The beeping became faster, the device itself uncomfortably hot.

I’m in control, Andrias thought desperately.

He’d worked too hard, come too far, sacrificed too much to be stopped now.

Andrias let out a roar of pure rage, blood and spit spraying as he glared up at Anne.

Anne glared right back, pressing down even harder.

I’m in control!

The beeps blended together in one continuous drone. The shielding device burned like fire.

I’m in-

Anne opened her fist, sending down a shockwave.

Andrias’ shield exploded.

The beeps cut out as the emitter short-circuited.

The force of the blast knocked Andrias prone, the floor cratering beneath him.

He saw Anne rocketing down towards him, leaving a shimmering coattail behind her.

Fist cocked back.

Teeth bared in a snarl.

Glowing blue eyes filled with unfiltered fury.

Those were the last things Andrias Leviathan would ever see.

---

Anne crashed down onto Andrias like a meteor from the heavens. The rumble of the impact echoed through the throne room, kicking up a cloud of debris. Sasha, Grime, Hop Pop and Polly quickly raised their arms to shield their faces from the dust, staggering from the force of the shockwave.

The chamber fell silent.

Slowly, one by one, the spectators lowered their arms as the dust settled.

The king of Amphibia lay surrounded by a jagged ring of shattered stone floor, his massive blue fingers twitching as blood pooled beneath him.

Anne slowly rose up from the ruined pile of pulp. Bright crimson was splattered across her heaving frame, dripping from her clenched and shaking fist, mixing with the tears that ran down her face.

“Give him back,” Anne repeated. Weariness filled her voice as she stumbled, the blue glow fading from her hair and eyes. “Give him… back…”

#amphibia #amphibia fanfiction #amphibia fanfic #true colors #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu #hop pop plantar #polly plantar #sprig plantar #captain grime #king andrias

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aspoonofsugar · 3 years

Text

The “One” Divided Into “Two”

Hello anons, hello friend,

these asks can be answered together!

First of all:

Hello! I just want to say that I love your RWBY metas! So I'm wondering, have you ever done metas about Emerald and Mercury?

Thank you! And yes, I have written a little bit about Mercury and Emerald here. I would also recommend this wonderful meta by @hamliet because it has an interesting Mercury theory in it.

Now. this answer is gonna mix some analysis with speculation because Emerald and Mercury’s story must still enter its climax. Once it does and we are given a specific interpretative key I will be happy to write more metas on them!

I’ll start with this:

Those two are so out of place in Salem's faction and the last look they share made me doubt that Mercury is rotten to the core and more of a kid who didnt know what he's in for. Since Em has switched sides, is it possible that Merc might follow? I really like him, so I'm hoping that he won't go down like Watts.

In my opinion, yes and here is why.

CHILDREN LOST IN A NARRATIVE

1) Emerald and Mercury have been child-coded since their first appearance:

Roman: Oh, look! She sent the kids again! This is turning out just like the divorce!

2) Both have received a save the cat moment early on:

Emerald: It's almost sad.

Mercury: Emerald, get up, we need to go. (...) Emerald!

Both child-coding and save the cat moments are often used to make characters more sympathetic and this applies to both Emerald and Mercury, even more so than Cinder.

This is why, for example, the major death they are directly involved in:

turns out to be a temporary one.

As a side note, I like thinking of Emerald and Mercury as the Cat and the Fox in Penny’s story since they act as false friends to the main cast, betray them and cause Penny’s first death. Moreover, in the novel, both characters end up suffering consequences for their life-styles. The two murder kids are the same:

At the same time, details about Emerald and Mercury’s backgrounds and motivations are given to the viewers pretty early on:

We are shown Cinder recruiting both and these scenes clearly paint them as two vulnerable kids that get manipulated and groomed:

Raven: Two children you’ve tricked into following you.

Emerald is presented as a scaredy cat and Cinder wins her over by promising the bare minumum aka some security and basic care.

Mercury is given even less aka a narrative to keep himself together:

Cinder: And you're his son. We saw your fight from the treeline. He's taught you well.

Mercury: Guess so.

Cinder: What's your name?

Mercury: Mercury.

Cinder: Mercury... Tell me, are you anything like your father?

Mercury: All my life, my father trained me to be a killer, an assassin like him. And then moments after I killed him, you two showed up looking for someone with my exact skills. Just felt like it was meant to be.

Cinder praises his abilities and frames his trauma as something that makes him strong, not broken. And Mercury has completely embraced this narrative since then.

In short, Emerald and Mercury are framed as two kids lost in an illusory narrative Cinder has crafted. That said, they are also characters in a proper narrative and they are given sympathetic backgrounds and positive qualities that hint they can be better than they currently are.

In particular, Emerald should overcome her emotional dependence on others to make the right thing:

In both volume 3 and volume 8 she is shown the destruction of a city. However, the first time she puts distance between herself and others’ pain, as symbolically conveyed by her looking from above. In volume 8, though, she is shown the same pain up close and she can’t ignore it anymore. This is why the others drag Emerald towards the people crying and light invades the screen when she finally meets the sheltered crew. She is forced to face an uncomfortable truth she wants to ignore.

Mercury should instead let himself depend on others more. He should open up to others and fight for his one positive bond:

Mercury: Back off, freak.

Which leads us to:

What do you like most about Emerald and Mercury's relationship and bond as it is explored in RWBY?

EMERCURY: COMPLEMENTARITY

Emerald and Mercury’s bond being a key one is conveyed both symbolically and in terms of their respective abilities.

When it comes to their abilities, I have written about it in the meta linked above:

In short, Emerald mostly relies on her semblance, while Mercury mostly relies on his legs and fighting prowess.

This detail adds to the idea that Emerald and Mercury have been acting as a unit and have been complementing each other. Emerald acts as the “soul” and Mercury as the “body”.

The soul is one’s personal essence (like the semblance). It is where (once again) wishes reside. The body is what protects the soul and is animated by instincts and self-survival.

They complement each other. This complementarity is shown in Emerald and Mercury’s fights.

In the Vytal festival, Mercury takes on both Coco and Yatsuhashi for a short while, so that Emerald can size her chance to fight Coco at her own terms (and she wins by using her semblance).

In the Battle of Heaven, Emerald uses her semblance to help Mercury fight and, in a sense, she compensates for his lack of one:

The human soul is about wishes, but also duties:

Penny: I feel like I wish I could do both the things I need to do and the things I want to do. Is that normal?

One must accept their feelings, but also struggle with them:

Winter: But yes Penny, we must still acknowledge our personal feelings, wrestle with them. It ensures us that we’re on the right path. It’s what makes us human.

And must do the right thing out of their own free will:

Winter: Penny. The general is making hard choices so we don’t have to.

This is Emerald’s personal struggle. She must let go of her feelings for Cinder and fight her own fear in order to do the right thing.

The human body lets people feel both others’ warmth:

And others’ cruelty:

However, Mercury refuses to feel both. He refuses to truly process his own trauma and pushes his feelings of care for Emerald away:

As far as their symbolism goes, they are linked in at least three different ways.

1) One of the attributes of the Roman god Mercury is that he is the protector of thieves and Emerald’s surname capitalized means thief. What is more:

Mercury: Ooh, Emerald! Master thief! Please don't take my money! I barely have enough to get by!

2) Mercury/Hermes is also the god of alchemy and the one who wrote the Emerald Tablet aka a tablet with the truth of alchemy on it. You, @hamliet, have written a meta on it, so I won’t add more.

3) According to at least some traditions, emerald is the gemstone associated with the planet Mercury.

So, it is clear the two characters are meant to be important in each other’s arcs.

Let’s now look at Emerald and Mercury’s bond, as it is explored through their interactions.

Mercury clearly cares about Emerald and gets along well with her. She is the only person he shows vulnerability to.

This is what their scene in Lost is about:

Emerald: Why did you come with us, the night Cinder and I found you?

Mercury: Why are you asking--

Emerald: Just answer the question.

Emerald is trying to open herself up and wants Mercury to open up too. This is why she gets annoyed when Mercury gives her a superficial answer. Still, in that conversation, Mercury is genuinelly trying to answer Emerald’s feelings:

Mercury: I'm sorry you didn't have a mommy that loved you, but I had a father who hated me! He never went easy on me! Every day of training was a beating. And when I unlocked my Semblance, he stole it with his! "This is a crutch!" "This makes you weak!" He told me I could have it back when I was strong. So I got strong, but I never got it back! I've had to work harder than anyone to get where I am. You may not like it here without Cinder, but I think I'm right where I'm supposed to be!

Here, Mercury is telling Emerald details of his past he would not be sharing if he did not trust her. He can’t let himself be completely vulnerable, though, so he discloses them by lashing out at Emerald. He mixes violence with authentic vulnerability and also with care:

Mercury: Cinder doesn't care about you! She doesn't care about either of us!

He has seen how self-destructive Emerald can get when it comes to Cinder:

And he is trying to have Emerald move on from her obsession.

However, Mercury’s small steps towards opening up and caring for another person are constantly challenged:

Tyrian: Oh yes, the world is mean, and I'm a big, bad man now just like the others.

Mercury: How long have you been standing there?!

The moment he opens up to Emerald, Tyrian appears to threathen and mock him.

Mercury’s positive development lies in accepting his own feelings of pain and in sharing them with others, so that he can be helped. However, the environment he is in goes in the way of it:

Emerald: Mercury, I wanted to...

Here, Emerald is trying to either apologize to Mercury for their fight or to at least check out on him. Still, Mercury is not listening to her because he is too frightened by what Salem is doing.

Mercury’s current struggle is conveyed in a nutshell by the glance he gives to his left in Midnight:

Is he looking at Emerald out of concern?

Or at Salem out of caution?

It is not clear. Still, what is sure is that Mercury should focus on Emerald, but Salem goes in the way. He deep down wants to care about others, but he is too scared to do so:

Tyrian: All you ever learned was pain and violence, and now you're too afraid to leave it. Such a tragedy.

At the same time, Mercury is for Emerald what she has been looking for in Cinder:

Emerald: We don't need him! Everything was going fine!

She initially refuses him, but it is clear that with time Mercury becomes the thing most similar to a family Emerald has:

She has been so fixated on Cinder and on how she can be worthy of Cinder’s love that she has missed how much Mercury has tried to protect her all along.

This is why Hazel is important for Emerald’s development:

Hazel: No more Gretchens, boy.

His sacrifice is about breaking his personal cycle of pain. His story starts with Gretchen dying when she was only a girl and it ends with him preventing another girl’s death. At the same time, he also helps breaking the cyle of abuse between Emerald and Cinder.

Emerald is told the truth about her relationship with Cinder by Mercury. Moreover, it seems something finally clicks for her here:

She observes Salem’s manipulation of Cinder and understands Cinder has been manipulating her in the same way.

However, it is thanks to Hazel’s sacrifice that Emerald sees what a genuine parental bond should be like. It should be about the parent protecting the child:

Hazel: What Gretchen would have done. And that starts with getting you away from here. Both of you.

And not the child protecting the parent:

Emerald: I know I can’t beat you. But I can fill that thing full of holes before you take me down.

It should be about the parent caring for the child unconditionally:

Hazel: Go.

And not about the child working hard to gain a parent’s love:

Cinder: You… You brought me back here. We failed.

Emerald: Cinder, you were hurt. I was just trying to help.

At the same time, Hazel’s death has taught Emerald the pain of losing a loved one:

And has forced Emerald to stand on her own two legs:

Oscar: I've seen what you can do, Emerald. However this fight ends, we could really use someone like you.

She can’t be protected forever, but she should start protecting others. She is powerful enough to do so and she must accept this responsibility.

I think Emerald could be key to Mercury's redemption

I think so too. Emerald saving Mercury is the perfect objective for her personal arc. It forces her to act as the savior instead of the one being saved.

Moreover, Mercury told her the truth about herself:

Mercury: You're in denial.

So Emerald might do the same for Mercury. This would also fit with her being the Emerald Tablet. The Tablet is written by Mercury to convey the truth to the world. Here, it might very well be the inverse: the Emerald Tablet might convey the truth to Mercury.

In general, Mercury and Tyrian’s foiling has to pay off, just like Emerald and Hazel’s:

The set-up is there for Tyrian and Mercury’s subplot to be about breaking cycles as well. Mercury’s story is about a child left alone with his abuser. Nobody comes to save him, so Mercury is forced to save himself by killing Marcus. Still, this only leads to him being stuck in the idea he is nothing, but an extension of his father. Right now, the cycle is repeating, but it is possible this time things will go differently because there is at least one person who cares about him.

Not only that, but (and this is nothing, but a baseless theory) even Qrow (aka a character who has unfinished business with Tyrian) might be a thematic fit to help Mercury:

Mercury: Bad hair, used a scythe, and smelled like my dad after a long day. It was him.

After all, Mercury himself draws a comparison between Qrow and his father since they are both alcoholic. However, Qrow has started a journey of rehabilitation for the sake of his nieces and their friends.

Qrow sees himself as bad for others and fundamentally unlucky because of his background and his semblance. So, his third fight with Tyrian being about saving a kid, who, in a sense, is even less lucky than him and has no semblance might be thematically fitting.

Despite it all, Qrow found a family and a place to belong and he might help Mercury find his (Emerald) as well.

SEMBLANCE OF THE SELF

Got no gun But I gleam like a blade and I'm harder than iron

Delusion I'll steal til your blind and defeat you from inside your mind

Emerald’s best weapon is her semblance, while Mercury’s semblance was stolen, so he could become a weapon.

This difference symbolizes their respective reactions to abuse.

Emerald uses her illusions as a coping mechanism.

This mechanism is well conveyed in CEM’s fight against Amber:

On one hand, Emerald creates a child version of herself who is well dressed and owns a bike. It is a rich version of Emerald because she must think that is the kind of child others would stop by to help. She does not believe she is likable or lovable. This is why she makes an illusory alter-ego, which is both true (she deep down is a crying child) and false (she is a street rat with nothing).

In general, this is Emerald’s way to approach others:

Emerald: Just left the stadium after your amazing fight! You guys were awesome!

Ren: Because she's scared. Just like us..

Emerald: Or maybe because I know how to get out of here. Anybody coming?

She either fakes an overly friendly demeanor or acts tougher than she is. In any case, she hides her true self.

On the other hand, Emerald is symbolically trapping herself in an illusion together with Amber. Amber can’t see the dangerous thief in front of her, but Emerald too can’t see the generous woman who is offering food to a crying child:

Cinder: Follow me, and you’ll never be hungry again.

Cinder promises Emerald food and love and this lie makes the girl unable to see the genuine article when it is right there.

So Emerald tricks both others and herself. This is how she survives abuse.

This is why she keeps believing in Cinder while she is gone:

Emerald: You’re here! I knew you’d co--

And this is why symbolically her semblance grows stronger in an abusive environment:

Emerald: I’ve been working on my Semblance. I can help. I won’t tell anybody.

Salem: You really have been honing that Semblance of yours.

After all, this is when Emerald gets a “power-up”:

She has just lost Cinder and finds herself stuck with Salem. Her reaction is to have a breakdown and to project an illusion in the minds of nine people, when she had previously stated she could only do one/two minds at most.

Mercury weaponizes his trauma.

This is why his legs are Mercury’s true weapon, while Talaria is there just to cover and embellish the pain and ugliness under it.

Mercury fights Amber with only its bare legs because symbolically his trauma is still fresh and he has yet to work out a structured coping mechanism to it. His meeting with Cinder is the first step in this construction that evolves in the following months and is still evolving:

In CEM’s fight against Amber, Mercury uses his unfeeling legs to whitstand the violence of the elements:

Fire

Earth and Water

Air

He goes through the whole cycle without feeling any pain simply because his trauma has made him unfeeling:

I'm the one That was ripped from the earth and exposed to the sun

Marcus has literally turned Mercury into Iron:

But I gleam like a blade and I'm harder than iron

Still, the point is that mercury as a metal is not as hard as iron, but (in the alchemical scale of metals) is way more refined and closer to gold. Mercury can be better than his father, but his way to survive abuse is to repress himself.

This is why his semblance was stolen by his abuser. It is because abuse has taken away Mercury’s personhood.

So, both Emerald and Mercury face abuse by masking or repressing themselves. The difference is a matter of degree. Mercury can suppress his emotions and needs more, while Emerald can’t.

Theirs is a foiling about feeling too much to the point of self-harm and of feeling too little to the point of negation.

So, Emerald must struggle with her feelings not to be controlled by them, while Mercury must aknowledge them.

Emerald’s Hallucinations is a Semblance of The Self because it hides both Emerald herself and the truth.

This is interesting because, as stated above, the Emerald Tablet should convey the truth about alchemy. However, Emerald’s environment has turned her into an inversion of herself:

I'm the one Who rose out of filth and was loved by no-one

She is a gemstone, but is currently covered in dirt. She needs to polish herself, so she can shine and fit better in her allusion.

Mercury’s stolen semblance is a Semblance of The Self because it is linked to Mercury’s self-expression, which he must claim back.

Until then, he is bound to be stuck in an abusive cycle as nothing, but a weapon.

In general, there is some symbolism around Mercury which needs unpacking:

Mercury quoting Marcus:"This is a crutch!" "This makes you weak!"

Firstly, he has clearly interiorized what his father told him here. He refuses the idea of weakness and crutches to the point that his prosthetics, which are literal crutches get turned into weapons and even covered by other weapons. However, this refusal of crutches means Mercury can’t heal. After all, crutches, bandages and treatment are necessary to become healthy once again.

Secondly, there is this:

I'll run circles round ya, I can touch the sky

The God Mercury’s main attribute is that he can overcome any boundary. He can go wherever he wants in no time. However, Mercury is the opposite because no matter what, he can’t leave his abusive environment. This has to do once again with his father’s abuse which culminated with Marcus taking Mercury’s legs. This is symbolically why Mercury is trapped.

Like for Emerald, Mercury’s arc should be about growing into his allusion, so that he can finally be free.

Still, how to turn Emerald and Mercury in the positive versions of their allusions? The answer has to do with this question:

(I think Emerald could be key to) maybe Cinder's (redemption) too

I’M THE ONE

Emerald and Mercury are two parts of the individual (body and soul) and two parts of a Huntsman (semblance and weapon):

Ren: A common philosophy is that a warrior's Semblance is a part of who they are.

Ruby: Just weapons? They're an extension of ourselves! They're a part of us! Oh, they're so cool.

Together they make a unit. Together they make Cinder. They are two sides of her trauma, her two sins:

Emerald: Actually, I was wondering, do you have any copies of "The Thief and The Butcher"?

And the wounds behind those sins.

This is why Cinder takes them in, but also why she abuses them.

She uses them as weapons:

In CEM’s fight against Amber she lets them go in first and has them take the majority of Amber’s hits.

Not only that, but she uses them as “red herrings” she hides behind.

She acts as if Amber’s blow takes her out of the fight, while Amber focuses on Mercury who resists her attack:

She has Emerald display her semblance at full force, so that the girl becomes Amber’s first target:

She makes her own illusion where Emerald and Mercury are her smokescreen.

However, her two disciples are not just things she can use as she pleases. They are two people who depend on her:

Mercury: You mean--

Emerald: She's alive?

They are literally two kids she takes in framing their relationship as parental/hierarchical hence she is responsible for them.

However, she fails them and leaves them in a dangerous environment. This is why they both leave her out of self-survival.

Narratively, Emerald and Mercury are two kids that must grow up. Right now, they are in some kind of adolescent phase. They have started their emancipation from their “parent”, but they have still to grow until they’ll be able to truly face Cinder.

It will probably be in this confrontation that they will affirm their growth. Right now, Cinder does not need to be coddled, but to be called out. Both Neo and Watts try to, but Cinder ignores them and retaliates against them. She needs a call out she can’t ignore and Emerald and Mercury are too rooted in who she deep down is for her to be unaffected by them.

At the same time, it would mark Mercury and Emerald’s first step into adulthood. Only then they can stop being a “half” and can truly become “one”, so a whole person.

#rwby #rwby meta #emercury #emerald sustrai #mercury black #cinder fall #my meta #asksfullofsugar #anonymous #hamliet #murder kids #rwby murder kids

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