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yandereunsolved · 22 days

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Dissect Me, Doctor - ,, yandere JPM with a psychologist reader

cw(s): yandere themes, dismemberment, suggestive themes, (James) necrophilia, noncon touching, cannibalism, mention of reader having breakdowns & panic attacks

✧ James found you by God's hand one fateful day. You could say it was more than a mere coincidence, eh? He had just finished killing one of the hotel guests. He was about to call Miss Evers in to clean up the mess when he spotted something sticking out of the dead gentleman's breast pocket. He plucked the card out of your pocket and read it allowed, 'Doctor...' His curiosity was the least bit piqued. Psychologists weren't exactly popular in the 1930s. The true study of the mind hadn't emerged, but James had always lived to study humans. To study their fight or flight instinct, how their bodies react to various torture methods, and how fear affects the human psyche. Perhaps he has found someone who shares his fondness for such things. It would be a great way to meet someone new. Considering Elizabeth refuses to speak with him, he has grown desperate. Not even defiling his killings tapered his already suppressed desires.

✧ He got Sally to teach him how to use this magic witch named 'Wi-fi' who owns the internet—or something like that. Most new technology is just rubbish used to get people to make inauthentic connections. Although perhaps just this once, it can be used for the betterment of his temperament. He has Sally schedule an initial appointment at the hotel. Sally uses the excuse that James is bedridden and terribly ill (non-contagious), but he hates telehealth and just wants someone to talk to in person. You were skeptical because of the rumors surrounding The Cortez, but you were in desperate need of another client, and he was willing to pay extra—a lot extra.

✧ You had your first session in his room, and you immediately got strange vibes from him. He wasn't ill, that was for sure. Perhaps he was a little pale, but he probably hasn't gotten enough sun or vitamin D lately. He was even smoking! He was sitting all relaxed on a couch, dressed up in 1930s-esque attire, with a cane leaning against his lap. He introduced himself as James Patrick March, and you immediately understood why you were called. He either has a personality disorder or is a compulsive liar. Perhaps both. You asked him simple questions, such as his real name and when he was born. You were only getting nonsensical answers. He could not have been born in the late 1800's or early 1900's; that is ridiculous!

James only felt himself grow hotter with each question you asked. It was like a fire had been lit beneath his skin, and he needed to put it out. Then you asked the question that really got him going.

"Since you refuse to use your real name, I'll just call you Mr. March. How is your personal life going? Are you currently sexually active?"

"I have peculiar interests and refined tastes. How do you modern people phrase it? 'Where there is a hole there is a goal'?"

✧ With that astounded expression on your face, he feels his urges compell him to end this lovely conversation early. That look would look perfect on your dead corpse. He takes the sabre out of his cane and tries to slit your throat; he narrowly misses. Somehow, you unlock his room door and bolt through the hallways. How promising. He walks through the winding hallways slowly. You scramble to find the exit, and he struggles with not just outright chasing you through the maze. No, he must preserve the hunt. After what feels like an eternity to you—only eleven minutes in real time—you finally trip over a stair and hit your head on the railing. Talented fox. You nearly escaped to the lobby. You are too much of a challenge to let go so easily. He's going to keep you to get his release. In more ways than one.

✧ You wake up in the middle of the night in the same room as before. It's freezing, and your clothes are nowhere to be found. Your head is pounding, and you are barely able to breathe. James drugged you with some cocktail of drugs—some legal, most not. You feel blades ghosting your body. You feel them just barely slicing into your skin. It must be sleep paralysis, you rationalize. Something whispers sweet nothings into your ears. You are barely able to discern what those words are.

"You taste... a dream."

"Never leave."

"The best prey— never leave me."

✧ You drift off once again before groggily waking up in a different room. You are still in the Cortez, now in room seventy-four. You feel much different today, weighed down and yet free. You don't have any marks on you that would indicate you were harmed last night. You feel the need to escape, but you are also incredibly confused. A maid is in your room, setting down a new set of clothes. She explains that you passed out after you tripped on a stair while leaving the session early. You accuse her of helping the strange man you interviewed who tried to kill you. She chuckles and says that you aren't his type. Her voice has a little bit of spite in it. That was the moment that you were introduced to Miss Evers. Quite possibly the only person who simultaneously envies you for getting all of James attention and pities you for your lack of self-awareness and intelligence in the situation.

✧ Before you are even able to shoo her off this JPM impersonator comes in your room and greets you. You are naturally apprehensive. He is naturally enthralled to see that his trophy prey has awoken. He cannot wait to just see how you react today. You try to leave and he explains that you never finished your session. You accuse him now of trying to murder you. He brushes it off and insists that you at least have breakfast with him before you leave. You are about to answer firmly when Miss Evers folding of a towel loudly snaps together. This 'James' scolds her and she gives him a doe-eyed look. Before you are even able to say no he is ushering you down the hallway in silken pajamas someone put on you while you were passed. The thought makes you shudder.

✧ You both were served a hearty and delicious breakfast. It isn't very filling to you, no matter how much you eat. It must be how queasy you are from yesterday. If it happened. Perhaps you had a mental break due to all the stress you have been through lately. You don't get a lot of time to think because you are snapped from your thoughts. This James speaks about your future together and how you will have a long and fufilling relationship. He asks you to give him a psyche evaluation. When you say no, he subtly threatens you with the thought of not paying because you didn't actually fill his full session. You reluctantly agree.

✧ He's both incredibly frustrated and intrigued by your persistence. How many times must he explain to you that he isn't a 'cosplayer' or someone with a personality disorder. He is simply the great James Patrick March. No matter. It will make you even more fun to play with.

"Your delusions, doctor, are clouding your mind. So I suppose I will have to make you see the truth—one way or another."

He sets up small 'challenges' to see if you can pass them. He wants to test how long your mental fortitude will hold up.

✧ The first of those was dismembering himself in front of your very eyes. He does it multiple times, and they are all random. He will pluck his eye out and stir it in his tea. He will cut open his chest and stuff his organs into your suitcase. He will remove whatever is covering his neck and finger from his suicide wound. He asks if you would like to feel it, stroke it, touch it, or play with it.

"Doctor, I understand you only deal with the human mind, but would you like to feel this and assess if it is real? Do you believe me now?"

He will stab himself in the heart during one of your sessions and tell you that this is what you do to him. In the most extreme cases, if he isn't getting your coveted attention, he will take himself apart limb by limb and place them on your bed like a cross.

✧ You begin to come to terms with the fact that, at least, this man is psychotic. Perhaps not a ghost, but definitely a killer and wickedly sadistic. You try so many of the phones in the hotel, but so many seem not to work. You try to find your way out once again, but you seem to be trapped within these walls. Which comes to one of his many other tactics: trapping you in The Cortez's hallway maze. He is able to distort the minds of his guests and make sure that they never get out. Like a rat trying to find an escape from a box maze that has no exit. He enjoys just slowly walking behind you and taking in your panic and your quick breaths when your clothing rides up on you. He is able to take a respectful peek at what he will inevitably see time and time again.

✧ He keeps you trapped in the hotel. You never even have a chance to get to the lobby. He has a nice breakfast, lunch, and dinner with you. He has his daily sessions with you. Outside of that? His torture. All of his torture. All of it. He threatens you with it subtly if you do something that he is displeased with. He'll even lock you in that death closet of his and make you stand right near the spike. Sometimes you prefer to be in there because you can hide from him. He likes it when you hide in his death traps. So he totally leaves you alone and totally just doesn't sit right outside your ability to view him.

You are coming to the point where those times when he is cordial are the times you crave. All part of his plan, of course. Although—he hopes that you will keep up the chase, he likes that fiery spirit of yours.

✧ You often find him getting release from his dead victims. You know because your relentless cycle of agony and pleasure stops. At least he doesn't force himself on you when you are awake. You end up doing your best to stay as far away as possible from him during that time. Only you always end up stumbling into the same room as him. You avert your eyes, yet he always has something cheeky to say to you.

"Ngh—darling, darling, wait! This.... this could be us. This could be me. You and me. Nothing could be a replacement for how your flesh feels against mine."

He always turns around and gives you one of those godforsaken winks of his.

✧ That isn't the only time his victims come into play. You are always suspicious of the food he serves you. It's either drugged or the meat could be made from his victims. You first learned that the hard way. You were served meatloaf, and James called in manloaf. He stated that it was made in this very hotel by the very guest who was trying to help you leave. You wanted them so bad, you can have them—in your stomach.

✧ Not even the Countess is able to help. Not that she tries. She is too busy luring more men in. She's forgotten about James mostly, except for the betrayal. She gives you a few warnings and some caution when she can. You are almost like one of her children. Perhaps she would help you if you really were in need. Maybe.

✧ You still get those sensations in your sleep. The feeling of fingertips ghosting on your figure. How the sheets seem to slip off your body. A warm presence keeps you close throughout the night. It often manifests in such strange dreams. It feels like James's thoughts are being injected into your own mind. You dream of him against you—sometimes he is brutally murdering you, and in others he is sensually caressing you. He always seems to tease and taunt you with those tantalizing images in your mind.

✧ ⁿ⁰ ⁿ⁰ ⁿ⁰ ⁿ⁰ ⁿ⁰ ⁿ⁰ ⁿ⁰ ⁿ⁰ ⁿ⁰ ⁿ⁰ ⁿ⁰ — You often have panic attacks and breakdowns because of him. Your heart rate quickens as sweat rolls down your body. Your legs shake and give in. The entire hotel seems to spin around you. You have to seek him out for your own comfort. It's so twisted and vile. You can feel bile rising in the back of your throat when it happens. You almost have to crawl on your hands and knees to reach him. Yet, it feels like heaven. His skin is so soft and supple. His suit is always made of the most comfortable materials. His body is always so cool to the touch. In those moments, your body melts into his. That is, until your mind stops its dissociation long enough to realize the trauma you were going through. You are falling for him—a classic case of Stockholm syndrome. You couldn't stand for this. You need to fight against this, against him.

✧ Unfortunately, your non-belief in ghosts stops when you see multiple people you thought were dead trying to warn you. You see your patient, who was killed in this very hotel. They tell you that they're so happy to see you. They are so happy you are here with them. You have to put on your therapist hat again and calm them down. It all clicks. Other people you thought were guests here were warning you. You are being oddly welcomed into the space. The others are cautious of your presence and afraid to upset the owner, the one who holds so much power over them. That strange being that seemed to flicker in and out of your peripheral occasionally. You finally make peace with the fact that James Patrick March is indeed a ghost. You really do need to escape here.

✧ You steal the hotel's shipping schedule for their toiletries and linens. You make a plan to escape. You think you are so clever, and it really makes James hot under his white buttoned collar. He lets you think that you are so much more astute than him. It makes him a little desperate, but he won't show it. He needs your touch so badly. He needs you to love him so badly. He needs you to be his little trophy victim. He needs you to help him chase his highs. He needs you. He needs you. He needs you. You, only you.

✧ He confesses his undying adoration for you and clings to your waist as you try to walk out. He sighs and tries one more tactic before you step out the door. He promises to tell you the entire truth. You are caught off guard by this, and your hand slips off the door. He leads you to his trophy room and shows you his 10 Commandment killings. He directs you to the corner, where your body lies. You are covered in wounds that have long since dried out. Your eyes are lifeless. You have his name etched across your naked chest. You scream, shout, and sob. James gently holds you and soothes you even as you thrash, kick, and gnaw at him.

"You've been trapped here the entire time. Since that night."

As if that makes it any better. You aren't that stupid. You could connect the dots—lack of appetite, coldness, the odd sensations, everything. You are stuck with this monster for all eternity.

"Hmm, yes! I saw you and just knew that I had to have you. Have you gotten my diagnosis yet, my love? It's lovesickness, and your body is the cure."

.ೃ࿐ -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- .ೃ࿐

⟿ taglist: @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @cxndiedvi0lets @doll3tt33 @lacucarachapisser @etheral-moon @fear-is-truth @marchsfreakshow @girlyfart @nahoyasboyfriend

.ೃ࿐ -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- .ೃ࿐

#american horror story #yandere #ahs #ahs hotel #yandere american horror story #yandere american horror story x reader #james patrick march #jpm #yandere jpm x reader #yandere james patrick march #yandere james patrick march x reader #yandere headcanons #ahs yandere headcanons #ahs headcanons #ahs fanfiction #jpm x reader #james patrick march x reader #headcanon

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inconspicious-random-thoughts · 1 month

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The Hazbin Timeline

I'm just making a timeline list of the Hazbin Hell residents biological and death ages. It's fun and interesting to see who is around who time period and such.

It might make help fanfic writers with backstories to know who existed at what time.

Im making the "current" date in the Hazbin universe 2019 as that's when The pilot aired.

Oldest: Lucifer. Existed before the dawn of mankind.

Adam: First man, existed since the dawn of mankind

Lilith: First woman, Existed since the dawn of mankind.

Eve: Second woman, Existed since the dawn of mankind, after Lilith.

Zestial: Information unknown beside oldest overlord, but going by his Shakespearean speech, death around the 1600's making him about 400 years old.

Possibly witness in his lifetime: Mary, Queen of Scots, executed for treason by order of Queen Elizabeth I, Galileo's experiments, Pilgrims from England arrive at Plymouth, Massachusetts, on the Mayflower.

Charlie: Appears to be in her 20s but

Despite her youthful appearance, it appears that Charlie's age is a matter of question. Although Vivziepop thinks that Charlie does celebrate birthdays with the standard kind of party, she is still unsure of how demon years and time work for someone like Charlie. In a later stream, Vivziepop stated that demons age in "hell years"] This may hint that Charlie's biological aging is different from how humans age, although it is unknown if hell years are similar in length to Earth years.

In one of the Hazbin Hotel pilot teasers, a portrait of the Magne family taken in the year 1871 hints that Charlie is decades older than she appears. Although this detail is omitted in the final version of the pilot, Faustisse has corroborated that Charlie is over 200 years old.

Rosie: Tricky, giving by her preferred time period, her death would be about 1890ish and her birth near 1850s-1860s making her 170 years old BUT Faustisse stated Rosie never died, suggesting that she was born in Hell. Which may subject to change as the show progress but if she's Hell born, they grow slower. So if we doing the same math as Charlie, she been around for 400 years. Which is similar to Zestial but not mention she on par with him in age so I think her being Hellborn not going to be finalized in canon. Rosie human age would be a little older if not similar to Alastor mother ages which is probably why he so easily bonds with her along with similar interest.

Sir Pentious: Biologically 40s, deceased 1888 making his soul 170is years old. His birth year is in the 1840s (This guy live through over 100 exterminations, and turf wars and challenging Alastor?)

Witness in his lifetime. The great famine in Ireland, the great Chicago fire, the pony express, the civil war, Lincoln assassinated, the statue of Liberty being dedicated,

Carmilia: Going with my headcanon that Carmilla was the lead ballerina in swan lake. Swan lake composed in 1877. Also, we have to consider her daughters to figure her death as I think they all died the same day. One of them goes by the name Clara...which is character in the nutcracker composed in 1892. So their deaths are after that date. Swan lake had a revival at 1895 so we just making their deaths at that time for sake of making it easy. Carmilla is vibing near 40 but I wouldn't push her past that as I think it be tough to be a 40 year old ballerina in the late 1800's. So her birth year is 1860s So I'm just going to guess her age be no older then 35 making her soul 160ish.

Her daughters being little after that. Being 150ish years old.

Witness in his lifetime. The civil war, Lincoln assassinated, the great Chicago fire, the statue of Liberty being dedicated,

Tom Trench: Biologically in his 40s, died 1910-1920s. Assumed during ww1 making his birth year late 1870s. His soul being around 150ish years old.

Alastor: Biologically 30-40's so for simplicity sake-35. So being born just smidge before the turn of 1900s. His death is 1933. Making his soul about 120 years old.

He witnessed 3 states included in the Us (up at 48 at his death) Wright brothers flight, Titanic sink, WW1, Great depression, Woman can vote, and prohibition.

Husk: Biologically 60-70, to make is simple 65. his death in the 1970s. Making his birth year about 1910's. About a decade after Alastors birth. Husker soul age about 110 years old. Husker has nearly the same timeline as Alastor and Angel except Husker lived an additional 40-50 years. Husk is about 10 year difference between both Alastor and Angel in either direction. So Husker being one the very few characters who lived a full life could at some point crossed paths with most of the characters in his living life, especially its been noted he was a world traveler to increase those odds. Alastor, Mimzy, Angel, Vox, Nifty, and Valentino. Husker is the unique character we get to witness that he an "old soul" because he lived the longest while alive, yet is in the same soul generation as Alastor, Angel and Vox, yet one of the youngest with his afterlife and still managed to be Overlord at one point. His overlords years being in the 1980-90s. As it takes time to become an overlord with the exception of Alastor. But I believe Husk did raise to Overlord fairly rapidly but lost it nearly as quickly as it seems Alastor had him under contract for a long while. Husk was in his 20s during Alastor death, in his 30s going on 40s for Angel Death, and 40's for Nifty and Nox death. Husk and Valentino share the same Hell afterlife timeline.

Angel Dust: Stated his age is in the 30s...and it most be very early 30's because I do not get the impression of him being 30 but more in the 20's. It so weird to know Angel meant to be a few years younger then Alastor biologically. Death year 1947. Making his birth year around 1917. His soul being just over 100 years. about 20 year difference from Alastor. Alastor hitting the age of adulthood while Husker not even a preteen at the time of Angel birth. Angel was in his mid teens when Alastor died.. Alastor possibly linked to is murders at this time of death and Angel would witness the news that would arise from it. Possibly heard some of Alastor broadcast. Angel is assumed gone by the name Anthony for a few decades in Hell before adopting his porn star name when he signed on with Valentino.

Vox: Biologically 30-40's so for simplicity sake-35. Died in the 1950's. Making his birth year about 1915 his soul just over 100 years old. He was a teen at the time of Alastor death. Alastor possibly linked to is murders at this time of death and Vox would witness the news that would arise from it. Angel and Vox lives and death are about in the same timeline, Angel died no more than a decade before Vox.

Witness in his lifetime: Great depression, prohibition start and end. all of WWII, holocaust, Hindenburg, Mount Rushmore finished first motion picture with sound The Jazz Singer.

Niffty: Biologically 22. Died in the 1950's making her birth year about 1930's. Her soul is about 90 years old. She possibly the youngest biological age character we seen. She as an infant when Alastor died. A preteen to late teen when Angel died. Possibly watched Voxs programs. (I headcanon that Vox is a tv game host). Died about the same time as Vox. Husk was in his 40s at her time of Death. Husk was in his 20 at the time of her birth.

Valentino: I'm placing him similar to Vox age so 35. He died in 1970's making his birth year about 1935. Just after Alastor death. Was in his late teens at the time of Vox death. Possibly watched Voxs programs growing up. (I headcanon that Vox is a tv game host). His soul is about 85 years old. Angel is older than Valentino even if Angel biological age might been slightly younger.

Angel been around longer than Valentino and its easy to forget that. Angel been uncontracted for a few decades before Valeninto became an overlord.

In his lifetime, the last two states was added to the US. Beatlemania, the space race, woodstock.

Katie Killjoy: in her 40's and died in 1992. Her birth year being late 1940-early 1950s. Making her soul little over 70 years old.

Zeezi: No information but giving her blatant 80's style she dies in the 80's and her personality seem of someone in early 20s...she was born in the 1960's Making her soul just about 70 years old. Same age as Katie, but Katie lived longer making Zeezi a citizen of Hell longer.

Cherri Bomb: Biologically in her 20s, and died in 1980s. Her birth year being 1960s. Living the same exact timeline as Zeezi. Cherri is possibly the youngest character we witness so far.

Velvette: No real information released but appears to be in the 20s. Her "age and death age" don't really match up to her character, but since maybe that's because she just good at updating and staying on trend. I headcanon it takes a minimum for a soul to become an overlord 10 years. So going by that, early 2000s since she not a brand spankin new overlord, she vibing she been overlord for a few years-close to a decade. ? Her birth year being in the 1980's which....doesn't seem to match. But giving the show timeline is 2019 subtract having years of experience as an overlord, and years to accomative the power and climb the ladder, and add her age...its near 1980s. Only way she can be an overlord with her birth being later in the 90's and death close to current year frame is that the other Vees saw potential and her and adopted her immediately and steamline her into being an overlord. But why would they do that if they just make a deal for her soul and use her potential that way?

That it for now. Hopefully someone enjoys this or could use the information I gathered, some venture a guess on the characters timeline and who may overlap who. I hope it wasn't terribly dull.

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almacambiondaughterofsaleos · 6 months

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Husk's Backstory Of Growing Up In A Casino Couldn't Have Happened

A common feature I notice of Vivizepop is that she does the minimal amount of research into characters and just does it for the aesthetic. One character's backstory I noticed as a resident of Las Vegas is the fact that he was raised in a casino, while being implied to have been born in the 1900's. As someone who actually has gotten to know Las Vegas History this would be impossible, because although the Golden Gate Hotel and Casino was first opened in 1906, gambling was banned in Vegas until 1931. If she was being more accurate she would be depicting him growing up in an underground casino which would be more accurate. I don't know if they had magical acts back then, but that would be more accurate for when in the 30's when Las Vegas was becoming more of a thing. Again while people point out inaccuracies in Angel Dust and Alastor's backstories and designs, I do think Husk should have a mention.

#helluva boss #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop #anti-vivziepop #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #anti-hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #incorrect history #correcting incorrect history

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memewhore · 1 year

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I was researching a small old ghost town that was situated on the same spot as the neighborhood I grew up in. I didn't know about it when I lived there. Even now it's still a very rural neighborhood of a dozen or so houses, next to what is now a 7-mile-long man-made lake and still surrounded by a lot of woods. I've been researching for several years with not much luck but I recently found an old hand-drawn map of the village online, drawn by a man who was born and lived there. My friend and I want to go and search for artifacts where the church, the store, the Post Office, and the blacksmith once stood. Those lots are vacant and have been since the original buildings were demolished in the very early 1900's, so they've sat undisturbed since then. We're going to take a metal detector and see if we can find any artifacts.

While researching and comparing that map to current google maps to pinpoint things, I was using terrain view and I noticed an odd formation on a ridge in the woods less than half a mile away. It's a perfect circular dome, with a sort of "tail" on it. Looks almost like a tadpole. There's no reason for it to be there - it doesn't look like normal erosion. It occurred to me it might be a Native American mound.

So all week I've been researching to find out what tribes, if any, used to be in that area and there WAS a settlement just 1.5 miles to the east of the mound. Holy crap I might really have found something! Then I found a map of the main NA trails in that county and it's right along the main trail in that area. 😮 I didn't know about any of that when I first thought it might be a NA mound - it all bolsters my theory, though.

We're going to go check it out. See what it looks like. Measure it. Maybe dig a little around it (not the mound itself, just the ground surrounding it) to see if we can find artifacts, which would be even more support for my theory. Then, if we still think it's a likely mound, I have to find an archaeologist or someone to report it to who would be able to determine if that's what it is.

This is so fun, it's like a treasure hunt! The ghost town, the mound, all of it. I love looking for forgotten history in this region, I study old maps all the time looking at what used to be there. I'm now searching for other forgotten mounds and I found several mound-looking formations a couple of counties over. And it turns out those are on another main trail and within 1-2 miles of a group of known burial mound sites (those mounds have sadly been destroyed) and there was a settlement very nearby, too, so I'm psyched! I could be wrong about them but the trails and settlements and other mound sites back it up. How cool would it be if even one of these turns out to be an actual forgotten Native mound!

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thewritersaddictions · 6 months

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Day Six: Steve Rogers + Frottage

You were supposed to be watching the movie with the rest of the gang, but somehow you had managed to get into your boyfriend laps from where you were original sat which was just a few spots away from him.

Steve and you had been dating. Dating with a guy who was original born in the late 1900's made being romanced a little harder then if you had been dating someone from your own era.

The theater was dark, and with Stark having built the building these were couch seats or beean bags that you were laying ontop of it was a real movie theater chair, and not the crappy ones either.

Everyone sat in thier own section, so when you climbed into your boyfriend lap nobody really saw anyways. Watching some random movie that had been drawn from a hat of written down sugguestions.

This one really wasn't your favorite. A horror movie. Bored out of your witts you make a plan in your head.

Steve is already hugging you by the time you get in his lap. Whispering in your ear that sends a shiver down your spine. "What's wrong bunny?" A cute nickname for his cute girl. You hums quietly into his neck and he kisses your head gently before returning his attention to the movie on the screen. You can hear the slight conversation, and then the shrieks of certain members getting scared.

Steve beings to rub your back, slow motions up and down your back and your almost lulled to sleep. Both of your clothing choices gives you a briliant idea. Your silk sleeping set that makes you according to Steve glow is what you have picked.

Steve is the opposite, going for a loose pair of sweats and an old sweatshirt. Where you lay in his lap your silk covered panties lays perfect on his hard cock.

Even though Steve is a great gentleman. He is still a man, a man who's never touched you more then kissing you gently on your forehead or on your cheeks. You test it once, grind your hips slowly almost as if you're shifting in his lap to get a little bit more comfortable.

His hand stops on your back and his heartbeat races agsint your chest. You breath him in deeply. He smells of leather, and vanilla. Your kiss his neck after his hand starts up again. "Y/n?" He whispers to your hair. You hum agasint his skin, and lick his neck.

He breaths heavily. "What are you doing?" He whispers. The two of you hadn't gotten sexual yet not in your long relationship.

Baby Steps

"I'm tired of waiting, please just give me something!" You whimper agasint him, as you drag your hips back over his sweat covered cock. "Oh, sweet jesus." He mutters as he tries to control himself, but doesn't stop you. "Please Stev…" You barly get your words out before his hands are no longer on your back and now at your hips guiding your hips gently over his lap.

Grinding you agasint him even though it's dark in the theater the movie brings light ot his feature. Screw eyes shut, and a flared nose as he tries to control himself.

But there's no control just how hard he's already gotten under his sweats. He can feel how wet you are underneath all the fabric. The silk allowing for a little bit of a show. You breahty moans fills his ear, as his grip tightens.

"We can't get caught, so stay quiet." Steve mutters in your ear as he bucks into your hips each time he grinds you over him. You barely manage a hum or whatever you think is a hum at this point.

Little curses leave your mouth, and when you get closer and closer to your release you start to nibble at his earlobe, sucking at his neck and then your eyes screw shut, and the coil breaks.

A coil that connects the both of you as your panites become wet, and his load fills his boxers. The breathy moans and the ability to catch your breath takes you both a moment.

"Jesus Y/n… god you're prefect." He whispers in your ear. The movie is still playing in the background, and for the rest of it you don't move to comfortable where you are in Steve's lap.

Completed on: 06/17/23

Posted on: 10/06/23

Kinktober 23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays

Marvel Master List // The Old Master List // Kinktober '23

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hollowtones · 2 years

Note

Hey, is Dr Coomer trans?

I do not feel like any definite "yes or no" answer I could give would really mean anything, for a lot of reasons!

It's not something that comes up in the videos at all. I've been adamant about the whole "Coomer is bi" thing because there's substance and intent to that (he talks about having an ex-wife & he flirts with men at multiple points in the series in his own weird way) but nothing wrt his own expression of gender comes up. I don't think I could have done anything interesting or funny with that, given the context.

Everything I make is, in a way, shaped by my transness, but that doesn't necessarily mean everything I make is A Trans Thing, y'know? Sometimes I'll see this sort of thing come up in a buncha circles I'm in-or-adjacent-to, where like, someone who is trans & making things will IMMEDIATELY be reduced to "the TRANS creator", when it might have no bearing on their work, to the point of basically outing them in completely unrelated circumstances! Sometimes to complete strangers! And it frankly feels suffocating & reductive & kind of creepy!! I am a trans woman, I'm pretty open & proud about it, it's a very important part of who I am and why I am, but I'm a person & there's lotsa different facets to me, just like anyone.

I cannot stand when authors and creators do the shitty hand-wavey Off Screen Representation thing where they go "oh yeah and BTW this character was DEFINITELY gay #representation" when that's something that does not at all come up in the narrative (and/or isn't alluded to in any way, in the case of we-want-to-but-the-execs-won't-let-us). At best, it feels lazy and boring. At worst it feels entirely self-aggrandizing and masturbatory. I hate it. I refuse to do that. (Yes I am aware there are exceptions. There are exceptions for anything.)

At the end of the day, your interpretation of a piece of fiction is as much about your reading of it, your thoughts and feelings and ideas, as it is about the intent and actions of the authors. There's nothing directly saying Coomer is a trans man, but there's not anything saying he can't be, or wouldn't be. I like talking about the things I make and the characters I come up with, but at the end of the day: You do not need me to validate or discredit any theories / ideas / headcanons you have about my character, and I do not need to go around telling people that they're Experiencing The Half Life Funny Moments in some arbitrary right or wrong way. Experience can be transformative!! You don't need my permission for that, you just gotta reach out and grab it.

Doctor Harold P. Coomer is a virtual entity based off unspecified American scientists born in the early-to-mid 1900's. Sometimes I like to think he wouldn't know a goddamn thing about gender, and sometimes I like to think he'd be the type of person to just be very private about that sort of thing. This is the least important bullet point, & as per some of the above ones, you can just ignore this if you want LOL

Sorry that got kind of long. I'm passionate about stuff like this. Thanks for letting me ramble on.

tl;dr: Do you want him to be? Would that mean anything to you? I cannot (& do not want to) stop you.

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 1 year

Text

Where do I begin ?

Songfic!

Alastor x Fem! Reader

Nav !

Note : For context, Alastor & the reader are the same age. Both born 1900. The last two digits of the year is basically their age.

Warnings: Mentions of Racism, Pinning ( mutual ), swearing, 1920’s - 1930’s, Warning: sexual assault, mentions of killing, cannibalism

tags: @littlebatsimagines

Song by : Shirley Bassey

━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━ ( scene changes )

Where do I begin

To tell the story of how great a love can be?

The sweet love story that is older than the sea

The simple truth about the love he brings to me

Where do I start?

1913 : 8th Grade Lunch Date

“ He definitely likes you Y/n.” My friend says as we sit at the table eating our lunch. On one side of the field, are tables for the white kids. On the other side, are little spots of cement where the colored kids sit. In the middle, is a lot of grass, where there’s a large tree in the middle. Under said tree, is Alastor, the schools outcast, but one of the smartest kids out there. Alastor stuck out like a sore thumb, poor thing was never dark enough to sit with the colored kids, but the white kids never wanted anything to do with him because he was mixed.

White father, black mother. It was the talk of the town when his momma was pregnant. When he was born, it was all anyone would do. As time went on, he joined the local school, and studied hard. He didn’t have many friends, and everyone always stood away from him. Regardless, he always wore that lovely smile that his teachers praised him for. He was a good kid, just not with the right crowd.

“ I don’t know. He doesn’t seem like he does.” I said, before my friend rolled her eyes, taking her lunch out of her bag.

“ Well even if he doesn’t, best not talk to ‘em again. Y’know your daddy will have you at it if he finds out you been talking to a colored boy.” My friend says, giving me that ‘ don’t do nothing stupid’ look. At that , I stare over at him, watching him eating his lunch. Around him is a small blanket, napkins and forks and knives being used ad he eats his lunch, and I smile to myself as he enjoys his meal.

“ I know I know. I’ll be fine, and he will too. We just don’t need to talk to each other.” I said, taking a bite of my sandwich.

“ Or you could give that fella a chance.” She said, before nodding her head over to one of the nearby tables.

Tommy, or also known as Thomas Vanguard. One of the richest white kids, despite our economy going down in flames.

“ Uh, I don’t really know.” I said, before she laughed.

“ Well too late, he’s already comin’ over.” She said, before my eyes widened. As I turned, I saw Tommy walking over. Oh please no. I was about to get up and walk away when I felt someone sit across from me on the bench. My friend and I turned in our seats to see who was there, it surely wasn’t Tommy.

Silence. The entire courtyard went silent.

Alastor was sitting at my table. Where all the white kids sat. Where colored kids couldn’t sit.

Until now.

“ AHH! Alastor sat at my table!” My lunch mate yelled, grabbing her lunch and running from our table. All the other kids gave the same reaction, running away to our fancy school building. I sat still, staring at him as everyone else ran away.

“ Hello.” I say, extending my hand out to shake. His eyes brightened, before he shook my hand eagerly. “ Momma says not to let people sit alone. “ I say, as I pick up my sandwich to continue eating.

“ Your momma sounds nice.” Alastor says, fixing his glasses. His skin is a caramel color, his brown hair swooped neatly to the sides and out of his face. His cheeks give a light blush, likely from the Louisiana heat.

“ I like to think she is. She can be mean sometimes though.” I say, chewing my food. Alastor smiles, before he continues his food as well. The lunch period goes smoothly from there out.

Even though the day after all the kids stood away from me because I was ‘dirty.’

Like a summer rain

That cools the pavement with a patent leather shine

He came into my life and made the living fine

And gave a meaning to this empty world of mine

He fills my heart

1915 : Highschool Newspaper

News: Black boys 12 and 13 lynched and hung at local park.

It’s all anyone’s talking about. Mainly because their brother’s been raging to the police since the whole thing happened. My best friend Mandy told me. Of course she would know, she’s his girlfriend. But no one knows.

It technically isn’t even allowed. A white girl with a black boy? It’s completely unheard of. But Mandy keeps it strictly secret. They’re never caught with one another, and even add extra arguments in public here and there to add some belief.

But I know it isn’t true. I also know that Alastor is gonna write an entire report down on it, and talk to me like if he’s one of those big fancy radio hosts I heart Tommy talk about during lunch.

“ My Daddy got my momma this cool radio, and it has this guy talking in it. It’s so cool, he sounds like a yankee.” Is usually what Tommy always says, and then he tells everyone what the radio guy says about the North.

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“ Oh M’ so sorry miss.” I hear, as I bump into someone. I stumble back and blink, pulling myself out of my daze.

“ Oh no no it’s alright. I wasn’t really paying all that attention.” I say, bending down to grab my fallen books. The boy in front of me does the same, to help me.

“ Y/n?” I hear a few feet away from me. I turn my head to find my teacher.

“ Are my cheaters cheatin me or am I seeing a colored boy with one of my students?” She asked, clearly confused. I felt my blood race, before my books were shoved into my hands.

“ I was just going to the principals office miss. Please don’t mind me.” The boy said, before my teacher rolled her eyes at him.

“ If you people would’ve been raised better maybe I wouldn’t have a problem with you.” She said before pulling a cigarette out from her pocket and lighting it. The boy lowered his head before quickly squeezing between the two of us to get by.

“ M’ sorry Misses, really was my mistake.” He said quietly as he left. When he was gone, she blew out the smoke from her cigarette.

“ Now you listen to me girl, and you listen good.” She said, pointing at me. “ Stay away from those colored folk. You never gonna be on their level so don’t try to be. Now get to class.” She said.

Oh how my blood boiled.

He fills my heart with very special things

With angel's songs, with wild imaginings

He fills my soul with so much love

That anywhere I go, I'm never lonely

With him along who could be lonely?

I reach for his hand, it's always there

1917 : High school Dance

I don’t know if this is good enough. More importantly, I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to get into the dance without my parents finding out. Would they even let me into a colored folk dance? I don’t see why not.

“ Y/n are you ready to go?” Mandy asks me from my window. She’s hanging on for dear life while I scramble to find the lipstick I need. The lipstick he likes the most.

“ Yeah just a minute.” I said, going through my vanity as quietly as possible.

“ Aw, trynna get all dolled up for Al~?” She asked, wiggling her brows. I rolled my eyes and almost jumped out of my skin when I found the lipstick I needed.

“ Okay, let’s go.” I said, before she grinned. Off we were to the dance.

“ We made it!” Mandy said as she hugged her boyfriend, who despite having a rough year, was happy to be with her.

“ Thanks for comin’. Sure they won’t have a problem?” He asked Mandy, before she shook her head.

“ No they won’t. Right Y/n?” She asked, before I shrugged, looking around the courtyard for Alastor. The party for the colored kids had been in a more quiet side of town. But that didnt mean it was easy to find someone.

“ des fleurs pour la fille?” I heard, as flowers were placed in front of me. Red roses. Wrapped in a tight red ribbon, with white fabric holding it together.

“ I didn’t know you knew french.” I said, as my eyes widened, gently taking the flowers from his grasp. I was greeted with a kiss to my temple, and his hand resting on my lower back.

“ Of course. It’s in my mothers nature after all. I hope you do enjoy tonight.” Alastor said, before offering me his arm. I took hold of it and we began to walk to the party.

“ I love the flowers by the way, they’re beautifully wrapped.” I said, before he smiled.

“ Perfect. Saved up just enough." Alastor said with a wink.

" How much was it?" I asked, before Alastor laughed, pushing the door open to the run down barn, which was where the dance would be held.

" Oh don't worry about that dear, we're here to have fun not to worry about expenses." He said, before handing our tickets to a teacher, who eyed the both of us curiously.

" Honey you sure you in the right dance?" The woman asked, taking our tickets. I nodded with a smile, before Alastor led me to the dance floor.

It's two in the morning, and the street lights are dim. All the lights on the street are out, everyone's sleeping. The flowers are still in my hand, shoes in my other as Alastor and I walk down the street to my home, the dance ending after hours of fun.

" Did you enjoy yourself?" Alastor asks, before I nod, smiling wide.

" I've never had that much fun in my life. Thank you for letting me go." I say with a smile as we approach my front steps. I walk up the first few, as Alastor stands on the pavement. I turn, waiting for him to follow.

" Can I...?" He asks, gesturing to the steps. I nod, as he steps up to walk with me to my front door.

" I hate that things are like this." I say as we stop at my front door. Alastor smiles, a sad smile, as he fixes my hair.

" Things will get better. Promise." He said, before bending down to kiss my forehead. " I'll get a real fancy job, we'll get a nice house with a pretty little yard, and we can dance as much as you want." He said, smiling. I knew that smile, that smile that he gave when talking as if he was on the radio, or when he was talking about something good that had happened with his mother at work.

" You sure?" I ask, before he nods.

" Of course. We'll get away from here, far away. New Orleans, just us." He says, before he pulls me in for a hug. " Don't ever doubt it." Alastor says, before I hug him back, ignoring the teardrops that fall on my shoulder.

How long does it last? Can love be measured by the hours in a day? I have no answers now, but this much I can say I'm going to need him 'til the stars all burn away And he'll be there

1919: The first bite

Twelve stations. Twelve stations that said no to him. All giving the same answer.

" You think people gonna wanna hear a colored boy on the radio? You best be trynna trick me if you think for a second you comin' in here." Was what they would say, and every time Alastor would come home with that smile on his face, despite the break in his heart.

" Any luck?" I ask, as his mother sets his food on the table, which I hand him his glass of wine.

" No, not today." He says, before he cuts a piece of his steak. His mother and I share a look, pity of course, but she's also hurt.

" Baby those people don't know who they just said no too. You're a man full of talent." His mother says, reaching over to fix his hair. " Now you just keep trying, someone outta give you something." She said, before he just nodded, his smile faltering for a moment before he sighed.

" Thank you for the food.” He said, as he took his napkin and put it around his neck, tucking it into his shirt.

“ Of course honey.” His mother said, before she stood up. “ Oh I almost forgot.” She said, before walking out of the kitchen. I began to eat the food she made, while Alastor stared at the door in confusion.

“ How was work today dear?” Alastor asks, his usually smile appearing again. I smiled to him and took a sip of the wine.

“ It was alright, some people weren’t exactly happy with their food choices.” I said, as Alastor nodded.

“ I found it!” Alastor’s mother says as she comes back into the dining room. She smiles as she sets down a small box in front of Alastor.

“ You might wanna open it.” She said to Alastor, who stared at the box with a confused smile. He lifted the lid to the small box, before his eyes widened.

“ What’s this?” He asked, before she smiled and took her seat.

“ It was your grandmothers. I found it this morning.” She said, before he smiled. Alastor looked up at me, before turning the box to face me. Inside was a ring, a gold ring with a ruby in the middle, surrounded by little diamonds.

“ She took it from a family she was working for. Her contract was up but they hadn’t given her half of what they promised. So she took that as compensation. She really meant to sell it but she liked it so much she kept it.” His mother explained, before Alastor turned the box so he could look at it again. “ Well? What do you think?” His mother asks, before he turns to look at her. The two exchange a look I can’t quite place, but he shuts the box and puts it in his mothers hand.

“ It’s beautiful.” He said, before smiling to her, and then looking at me with a smile.

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“ Y/n, someone’s here to see you.” Mandy called to me, before I took my apron off. Working at the towns diner was not an easy job. But I was finally on my break.

“ Comin’” I said, before I pushed the door that led from the kitchen to the restaurant, walking around tables and people. “ Someone needed me?” I asked, as I approached the front desk, before Mandy pointed to the door. I turned around to see Alastor, standing there with a bouquet of flowers.

“ Oh, Alastor these are beautiful.” I say, walking over to him as he smiled. When I do reach him, he bends down to give me a kiss, before handing me the flowers. There are all sorts of flowers in the bouqet, some Asters, Carnations, Roses of course, Camellia’s, a few Calla Lily’s.

“ I'm taking you out for lunch.” He said, tapping the edge of my nose. Quickly, he helped me put my jacket on, and off we were to have a lovely lunch together, where I later found out, he had finally gotten a shot to have his own radio studio.

1922: Consequences

It all happened so fast. There was nothing I could do to stop him, to stop it from happening. One moment I had been in the bathroom at work and the next I'm on the floor in tears trying to get Tommy off me. Yet nothing worked.

" Mandy I don't feel so good. I'm going home." I say, grabbing as Tommy grins at me from his table with his friends. Mandy looks at me concerned before she just nods silently.

" Feel better Y/n." Mandy says, but it's too late. I'm already pushing the glass doors and out I am onto the sidewalk of the busy street walking myself home as quickly as possible. My legs are shaky, and I can barely breathe as I open my front door, and shut it behind me. I couldn't stop thinking about it, about what he'd done to me. I kick my heels off, sobbing as I throw my jacket to the ground, letting my hair down and making my way towards my bedroom.

How dare he? How dare he do this to me? Why couldn't I stop him? Why didn't I do something? Why didn't I say something? I should've fought back harder, done something, been stronger. I turn and shut the door to my bedroom, before finding a corner near my window to curl up in, hugging my knees to my chest as I feel myself collapse on the ground, the only thing I can think of being Tommy's words.

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( Events before leaving )

" If you were with me, you wouldn't need to work in this shitty diner." Tommy said, before I hear a click. I look up, staring at Tommy in the mirror.

" I actually like working here thank you very much." I say, before I move to dry my hands with a towel from my apron. Quickly, his hand grabs my shoulder to turn me around, before his hand is cupping the bottom of my chin, squeezing the sides of my face. He's angry.

" Don't give me an attitude bitch. Word's been flying 'round you been with that mixed guy. How's he treatin' ya' huh? Bet he beats you,-" Tommy said, before shoving my face to the side so hard I fall to the ground, putting my hands out to support me. No lunch, my wrist breaks. I cry out in pain, before Tommy grabs my hair to pull be up just enough to see my face.

" What? Not used to it? Those colored folk's aint got nothing better to do than beat their women. You ain't nothing special." He said, before he slapped me. I pushed myself up with my other arm, trying to hit him back, before his knee came in contact with my stomach, airing me out. " Now you just sit there and look pretty while I show you how a real man feels. Maybe then you'll get your senses straight, 'stead of bein' dirty." And then it happened. Bottoms torn off my legs, no matter how hard I kicked or tried to hit him, nothing. I couldn't do a damn thing. All while he had his way with me. Stupid son of a bitch.

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( author's POV )

Alastor opens the front door, sighing as he takes a step into his home, finally done with the day he had at work. It only when he steps on Y/n's jacket, that he realizes something is wrong. He takes a moment to stop, staying quiet. He hears something, and when he finally realizes what it is.

He. Is. Livid.

Alastor sets his belongings down on a nearby table, before he makes his way upstairs, as calm as he can possibly be. The closer he gets, the louder Y/n's sobs are.

" Darling? Are you alright?" Alastor asks, approaching their bedroom door. No response. But the sobs don't stop. He frowns, his body beginning to shake, his nerves getting the best of him. " I'm going to open the door." Alastor says, waiting a moment for a response, before he turns the handle to the door. He looks around for a moment, before he spots her sitting near the window, on the floor in the corner. She's holding the curtain in her hand, her face stuffed into it as she sobs. Alastor begins slow, walking towards her, studying her frame. It's only when he notices the harsh color of her wrist that alarms begin to go off in his mind. He kneels down, now in front of Y/n, before he speaks again.

" Y/n?" He asks. No response, just sobs. " Dear what happened?" He asks. At that, Y/n lifts her head to stare at him. It's then Alastor realizes that whatever did happen, was very serious. Alastor doesn't speak as his hands reach for Y/n's arms, slowly pulling her as he stands, before he brings her in for a hug. " Whenever your ready, I'm here to listen." Alastor said, before he felt Y/n's hand hold onto his side.

" It was e-earlier." Y/n said between breaths, obviously struggling to speak. Alastor pulled back and stared down at her, before he saw how red her neck was. Not just red though, there were hickie's. All over her neck, and a large hand print in the middle. Like if she was being choked. The sides of her face were bruised, harsh black and blues appearing on her skin. As Alastor continued to take her state in, he saw bruises on her arms as well.

" Who did this to you?" He asked, stern. She stared, unsure of what to say. There was this look on his face she couldn't describe. His aura grew darker the longer she took to answer, as Alastor began to trace over the marks on her skin with his fingertips lightly. It had taken her a second to register what he was doing.

He was securing it. Like reassuring himself they were real, that this, what was happening, was real.

" Y/n, Dear, who did this to you?" He asked again, losing his patience. His mind was running through all sorts of things, his mind focused on the amount of rage he felt.

" ... Tommy."

That was it. Y/n stood, unsure of what to do as she watched Alastor frame shake, like a shiver. As if he was cold. He wasn't. His skin was burning hot, and as he pulled Y/n into a hug she could feel the anger seeping off of him as she cried into his chest.

" Alastor I'm so so so sorry. I tried to stop him, I really did." She said, before she pulled away from him as Alastor looked down at her, shaking his head.

" Don't be sorry. This isn't your fault. He is disgusting, and you are beautiful. He wanted to ruin you, and you didn't let him." Alastor said, wiping away the tears that continued to fall from her eyes. " How did this happen?" He asks, his tone softer now as he pulled Y/n to sit on the bed as he walked towards their bathroom. Her wrist was swollen, Alastor had pretty much guessed it was either sprained or broken. Either way, Tommy was definitely going to be his next victim.

" Your arm dear." Alastor said, as he sat back down next to Y/n, an ice pack in one hand while wrapping her wrist with the other. " Now, tell me how it started." Alastor said, before Y/n took a deep breath before she began explaining.

" I had went to the restroom at work, some customer had spilled water on me, it was an accident though. I was washing my hands, and when I looked up in the mirror I saw Tommy there. He locked the door to the bathroom and started talking. He said something about me being with him and if I was I wouldn't have to work in that diner." Y/n said, before Alastor let out a 'mhm', signaling her to continue.

" I told him I actually liked working there, and he grabbed my face and told me not to disrespect him. He called me a bitch." Y/n said, before Alastor looked at her, stopping his motions.

".. continue." He said, before moving to press the ice pack to her wrist.

" T-then, he said that word had been goin' 'round that I was with a, as he put it, 'mixed guy', and then asked how that was going for me. Then he said he bets you beat me, and then he pushed me to the floor. That's how I hurt my wrist." She explained, before Alastor nodded at her to continue, moving to check for any cuts he might need to treat on her. " After he did that he was all like, 'What? Not used to it?' and then he said colored folks don't have anything better to do than beat their women. Then he said I wasn't anything special, and he told me to sit there and just look pretty while he showed me what a feels like. He said maybe then I would get my senses straight and stop being dirty..." Y/n said, leaving out the portion of him airing her out, to not get Alastor upset.

Alastor was silent for a moment. His mind mulling over the information he had just been given. Y/n had assumed he'd been calm enough to receive the extra information.

" While I was on the ground, he also hit me, with his knee... in my stomach..." Y/n said, nervous of Alastor's reaction. He didn't say much. He was quiet.

" I'll have a talk with him tomorrow. Take the rest of this week off, I want you here, and if you go out I want you with someone so you aren't alone. You need medical help right now, I'll talk to my mother since she isn't far." Alastor said, as he stood up, quickly putting things away.

" W-wait, can't we talk about this first? I don't want him to get in trouble he might try to hurt you-"

" Y/n, I don't give a damn about what he wants to do to me! It's the fact he's gotten to you, he's hurt you, and I wasn't there to stop him. No one was!" Alastor said, stopping in front of the bed. He was upset, so much so that a tear fell from his eye, before he wiped it away. Y/n stood from the bed, but never moved to Alastor.

" I can heal from this, we can move on. I just don't want this to be a big thing." Y/n said, before Alastor stood quiet.

" It won't be. Just, let me deal with it. Stay here, relax." Alastor said walking over to Y/n to run his hands down the sides of her arms. " I promise I won't make this a big ordeal. My mother should be by shortly after I speak wit her. Until then, get yourself comfortable, be careful with your write, and wait for me to get back, alright?" Alastor asked, before Y/n nodded.

" Alright. I love you." Y/n said, looking up at Alastor, waiting for him to say it back.

" I love you too darling."

1923: Fresh Start in the French Quarter

Tommy had opened his big mouth to the entire town about Alastor and Y/n's relationship. The entire town had shunned the both of them for it, Y/n's parents officially cutting her off for good, their suspicions being correct. After that christmas, Alastor and Y/n had began to take trips to New Orleans regularly, looking for a house to by. Alastor had gotten a better job, with much higher pay. Alastor had let Y/n choose whatever house she wanted, and when she finally settled on one, he also made sure to higher movers, and of course there's the paint job and furniture.

Though the cost was something Alastor would never allow her to see, the house made her happy, and that was more than enough for him. As he had told her, " Whatever my love wants, my love gets."

The neighborhood was nice, a lot of land was also nice too, aside from the grass growing extremely fast, but the man who would mow the lawn every week was nice so there was a plus. Y/n didn't need to work anymore, since Alastor made enough for the both of them to live comfortably. The lifestyle the two had changed over too had went from simple and comfortable, just barely making it by, to lavish and extravagant.

Since moving to New Orleans people had been kinder to the two of you. As well as the two of you getting married. It was a small wedding, consisting of Alastor's mother, Mandy and her husband Clarence. A few coworkers, Alastor's uncle who was just happy to be there. The people from his mother's church who had a great time at the afterparty.

Alastor never did tell you what he did to Tommy, but that was alright. He wasn't your problem anymore.

He fills my heart with very special things With angels' songs, with wild imaginings He fills my soul with so much love That anywhere I go, I'm never lonely With him along, who could be lonely? I reach for his hand, it's always there

1925: the first letter

(Y/n's POV )

" Honey could you get the mail for me? Hand's are all covered in dirt." Alastor said, before I nodded. I had walked to the front of the lawn to open our mailbox, pulling the papers out.

"Hm. Bills, bills, more bills, bills, and, a letter?" I stop. It's addressed to me. But the address is unfamiliar. I take the mail inside and walk to the dining room to open the letter. Alastor is in the mud room, removing the gardening equipment and dirt. I open the letter, before taking the pages out from inside. There's three pages, but all are covered in black ink. Except for the second page, with the words in the middle of the page reading.

Your Husband murdered the love of my life.

Silence. I don't know who this person is. I don't know where this letter is from. I don't know who this letter is from. They must have the wrong house. My husband would never kill anyone. As upset as he gets, he wouldn't hurt a fly.

" I think we can start on dinner now." Alastor said, as I slipped the letter back into the envelope.

" What do you wanna make tonight?" I ask as we both walk into the kitchen. Alastor moves to the freezer to grab out meat while I go through our cabinets to see what we have.

" Hm, what about Chili? Never hurt anyone, haven't had any in a while." He said, before I sighed.

" Chili is the worst thing to make though." I whine, before Alastor chuckles and sets the mean down on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

" Why don't we go out then? I get my chili, you don't need to help make it. How does that sound?" Alastor asks, before I smile.

" We can go see the band right?" I ask, before Alastor nods.

" If that's what you wanna do." He said with a grin, before I smiled and kissed his cheek.

" Get your dancin' shoes. Date night!" I say as I practically sprint out of the kitchen as Alastor laughs from his place in the kitchen.

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2 weeks later : Letter two

This letter is different. The first two pages are covered in black ink, the third page being the only one that has writing. It reads.

" I know you got my last letter. Your husband is a killer. Don't deny the truth." Right in the center of the page. My hands shake as I read it, before I shut the front door, locking it tight. I begin to walk around our house, the house we bought together. The house that we danced in together, cooked together, had gatherings together. Everything.

I came across his study, where I never really entered much, since I allowed it to be just him, his personal space. Like my own study, which was really more like a library since we had shared books in there. I opened the door, but never stepped in, curious as to what he would have hidden away. The door opens fully to reveal a minimalistic room. There are papers on his desk, a desk lamp, newspapers on the side, file cabinets, a radio, a journal. Wait, a journal? I never knew he had a journal.

I step into the room, making my way over to his desk, and reaching for the journal. I flip through the pages, skimming over the words, before something catches my eye.

Tommys name.

I continue to read, reading the journal and the pages that follow up until the very latest entry. I learn all sorts of things after reading this journal, and when I place it back down on the desk I want to run out of his study. But I don't. I put it down, exactly where I found it, and exit the room. Shutting the door tightly, and leaving the house all together. Just to walk. To clear my mind. After reading his journal I learn a number of things.

First, that Tommy is dead. Alastor killed him after Tommy assaulted me at work, and took the liberty of dismembering him and even cooking some of his intestines. Second, the meat that is stored in our freezer, the meat I've been eating for years, is from actual people. Their dead, cut up bodies are the things I've been preparing every night like it's the best thanksgiving turkey anyone's ever gonna eat. Third, his mother has been getting a good portion of his check every month. There isn't a problem with that, she's a lovely woman.

But, it was the most recent entry that made my spine tingle the most.

Alastor and I had never been intimate with one another. We both had our reasons, I had been saving it till marriage, but after Tommy I hadn't been comfortable with anyone ever potentially seeing me like that again, and Alastor had never tried so it just mutually never happened. There wasn’t an easy way to put it really, in some pages of the journal he had stated he wanted to show me how to kill, to take me with him for these murders. That it would get him, excited, to think about.

I guess this is the part where I call the cops. Tell them my husband is a cruel heartless killer, that he stores remains of these dead bodies in our freezer for us to eat.

But I won’t. I can’t. Because despite knowing all this. I still love him.

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That night: Dinner

( Author’s POV )

“ Dinner is served.” Y/n says, placing Alastor’s plate of food in front of him. He smiles as she leans down to kiss him on the cheek, fixing his handkerchief around his neck. She moves to her seat, across from him, and situates herself. Immediately, he begins to dig in, cutting away at the meat with a bloodlust look in his eye she had never noticed up until now.

“ I hope you enjoy it. Took a long time to season it properly.” Y/n said, as she began to eat as well, never once touching the meat on her plate.

“ Really? Did we not have enough spices? I can run out tomorrow and get some more if you need some.” Alastor said, before taking another bite out of his food.

“ No, we had enough spices. I just wanted to season it enough so I’m not distracted by the fact it’s from a human.” Y/n says, before putting a spoonful of food in her mouth. Alastor stops, frozen as if she was crazy. He’s silent, they both are. Alastor sits there tense, expecting police officers to round the corner of his home, he thinks this is it for him.

“ What are you talking about?” Alastor asks, before Y/n looks up at him from her seat.

“ I found your journal.” Y/n says.

“ You went into my study?” Alastor asks, trying hard to mask the annoyance in his voice. He fails.

“ Yes. I’ll tell you why.” Y/n says, before she pulls out two envelopes from behind her, tossing it towards Alastor as it slides across the table to him. He stares at them curiously, before he reaches forward to open it.

“ When did you get these?” Alastor said, losing his usual smile.

“ I got the first letter maybe, two weeks ago.” Y/n says, before Alastor’s eyes flicker to her’s for a second, before back down to the letters. “ I got the second one today. I’m sure there’s going to be a third.” Y/n says, not failing to notice Alastor’s grip on his knife tighten.

“ Why didn’t you tell me about this?” He asks, sternly.

“ I didn’t believe them. There was no reason to tell you if I didn’t believe it.” Y/n said, standing from her seat.

“ Y/n, did you… tell anyone?” Alastor asks, his eyes pleading with her. As if he was sorry. She knew he wasn’t.

“ Don’t look at me like that .” Y/n said, the pain in her voice obvious.

“ Did you?” He asks.

“ No. I didn’t.”

Silence. Neither one of them say a thing. Alastor stands from his seat, putting his knife down.

“ Do you hate me?” Alastor asks, refusing to look at her now. No response.

Y/n isn’t sure what to do. She’d figured he’d kill her by now.

“ Do you still love me?” Alastor asked, and the crack in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Y/n hadn’t even realized she had started crying, and he was too. No response.

Alastor didn’t say anything after that. He left the letters on the table, before he exited the dining room. Y/n sighed, letting the tears fall. Y/n also exited the dining room, not sure where he could have gone. The house was huge, big enough to get lost in. Room by room, Y/n checked for him, now desperately trying to fix her mistake.

When Y/n made it to their bedroom, she found money sitting on their bed, all of his belongings gone. Was he leaving? Now the panic had set in.

“ Alastor!” Y/n called, running through the halls, checking for him where ever she could. practically jumping down the stairs when she saw him at the front door.

“ Alastor where are you going?” Y/n asked, panting wildly. Alastor didn’t answer. “ Alastor please.” Y/n said, before Alastor took his coat off it’s hanger.

“Y/n please, stop.” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses moving upwards slightly.

“ No. Don’t you dare tell me to stop.” Y/n said, before she began to walk down the stairs.

“ Yes dear.” Alastor said, allowing her to continue, because he knew she would.

“ I don’t want your money.” She said, putting it on one of his suitcases. “ I don’t care about that. For Christ’s sake I don’t care about our house, or our cars or anything!” Y/n said, crying again. Alastor frowned.

“ Then what do you care about?” Alastor asked.

“ You! I care about you Alastor! Not the stupid front you put up, no, I care about you! Even if you are a killer, so be it I don’t care!” Y/n said, before she moved closer to him before reaching into his pocket. She was right, there it was. The knife he wrote about. The one he always had with him. She also knew he had one strapped to him under his shirt, on his arm. “ If you think I don’t care then shut me up.” Y/n said, putting the knife between the two of them.

“ Are you asking me to kill you?” Alastor asked, confused.

“ No. I’m telling you if you don’t like what I’m saying, or don’t think it’s real. Shut. Me. Up.” She said, putting the knife to his chest.

“ I thought you didn’t love me anymore.” Alastor said, head hanging low.

“ I do. I do love you.” Y/n said, as the knife fell to the ground. Y/n hugged him, and he hugged her back with just as much force, if not more, than she did. “ I will always love you.” Y/n said, gently running her fingers down his back.

“ You wont tell anyone right?” Alastor asked, before Y/n shook her head.

“ No, not ever. I promise.” Y/n said. “ Thank you.” She told him.

“ For what?” Alastor asked, mind going blank for a moment.

“ Getting rid of Tommy.” She said.

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1932: ‘Till death do we part

She knew she could’ve told the police. She knew she should’ve. But she didn’t have the heart to tell.

Even as she watched every night, accompanied Alastor on his hunts, as he liked to call it, she still loved him.

Even when they were both all bloody, screams of a victim trying to get away, you could still feel the love between them. As odd as it may sound.

But neither one of them cared. Even when Alastor had gotten caught, when he died, she still loved him even in death. Everyone had assumed she’d taken her own life because she was devastes over him being a killer.

Oh no. They couldn’t be more wrong.

She died because she couldn’t live without him. Even in their final moments together, the only thing either cared about, was each other.

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1935: Caught

Despite them both being dead, it was only in 1935 that Y/n had finally been caught as his accomplice. Police had went through their entire house, searching through their personal items, bibles, food. Asking the help of their co-workers, house keepers, friends, family. Anyone, if they had any suspicions.

Now, they’re graves lay near one another, flowers being brought every few weeks by only Alastor’s mother, who still loved them both dearly.

“ I always knew he was a troubled child I just, thought it was because of the kids at school, and the stress of the finances.” Alastor’s mother told the police.

“ What about Y/n?” The officer asked, before his mother shook her head.

“ Oh no. She was always such a sweet girl. I never would’ve thought she would do something like that. I always knew she loved my son, but I never thought they would do that.” His mother confessed.

“ Do you have an idea as to why Alastor took the fall for the whole thing? I mean, he could’ve easily put it on Y/n when he found out the we would be searching for him.” The officer said before Alastor’s mother sighed.

“ Well, my son was in love with her, goodness. That boy would go on and on for hours about her if he could. He probably didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.” His mother said.

“ Do you think if he would have had too, he would’ve sacrificed himself for her?” The officer asked.

“ Oh yes. Of course. He would do anything he needed too to keep her safe. Why do you think he killed Tommy? He beat Y/n.” Alastor’s mother said, before the officer went silent.

“ So your saying, Alastor killed for her?” The officer asked.

“ Well, I don’t know if that’s exactly why. But I could assume so. She knew all the victims, and he’d tell me how much she’d dislike them. He was clearly trying to make her happy.” His mother said. The officer nodded, writing everything down. Now it all made sense.

How long does it last?

Can love be measured by the hours in a day?

I have no answers now, but this much I can say

I'm going to need him 'til the stars all burn away

And he'll be there

212 notes · View notes

madlad-sadgal · 9 months

Text

I've seen similar stuff being addressed about how Nimona had to see a whole city being built to protect itself from her specifically, but I still want to address something, which is about the development of technology.

Think about it. Nimona is, at least, 1000 years old, and may be older. The first true contact she has with humans goes wrong, and there starts the building of the wall, the Institute, yada yada yada. But the thing is, she is inside the walls with the rest of the people, and through 1000 years, she has had to try to blend in and adapt to all new things.

She watched the people slowly discover electricity, phones, cars, guns, video games, movies, flying cars! And she was able to adapt to all that!

People who grew up in like the 1950-60's have trouble adjusting to today's technology, and yet she is the equivalent of someone who was born in the early 1900's and lived to see everything grow to today.

And not only that, but most things were aimed against her as well! Advertisements for cereal or board games were about slaying her (Slaying your hunger (With Kwispy Dwagon) and slaying monsters to earn points (The game we see the kids play in the advertisement at the end)).

Even the movies! In the zombie movie she and Bal are watching, they're talking about them being "immortal and invincible creatures" and are scared of them so they attack! Everything, from the board games to the weapons are advertised against her! The city was built to protect itself against her! Everything was built because of the fear she caused!

So yeah, just another reason to feel bad for this sad gremlin child we all love.

#nimona #gloreth #nimona netflix #nimona movie #nimona 2023 #my poor child

67 notes · View notes

haitaniapologist · 2 years

Text

A LOVE STORY LIKE OURS.

pairings — king! sano shinichiro x fem!reader.

genre — fluff, lightly angst.

warnings — reader is draken's older half sister, world heavily inspired by medieval europe, c*ckwarming, yn and shinichiro are from different social classes (so thoughts about that), insecurities, mentions of s*x, a hint of br*eding k*nk.

word counting — 9.5k

notes — this is both for shin's birthday, @1900-aria collab REGALITÀ & MAGIA and her birthday too !!!! if you don't want to see me being sappy for my twin, just skip the message i'll left for her at the end of the fic <3 anyways, i hope you guys will enjoy !! likes and comments are appreciated, and this isn't in the same universe of my other royal aus!!!

join the taglist !!!

“i want to be to princess emma what the king is to you, sister.”

you almost choked on the food you were eating when hearing such words leaving your baby brother's mouth. what was ken saying? it couldn't be possible, could it?

“care to explain, kenny?” you asked, trying to remain calm under your younger brother's inquisitor gaze. if kenny knew, other people knew too — and you hoped such things wouldn't reach the ears of the counselors or even of princess emma, or else you would be losing the job you worked so hard to have.

“i can be only thirteen, sister, but i can tell apart when a man looks at a woman he loves and at a woman he doesn't care about.” you almost giggled at his posture, arms crossed over his chest and eyebrows raised — as if he was the older sibling, trying to know who was the man who kept you awake during most nights to fight him if he ever hurt his sister.

you hummed, mouth full of food. ken kept looking at you, waiting for you to say something, and you swallowed it quickly. “yes? and how does the king look at me?”

“like you hung all the stars on his sky.”

you met shinichiro sano when you both were young, the prince was fifteen and you were fourteen — life didn't treat you kind, being the daughter of a prostitute and having a younger half brother to care of, since your mother died as soon as ken was born. you were used to having people looking down upon you and your brother, sneering at you for your attempts to not follow into your mother's footsteps — even if you lived inside a brothel — and give your brother the childhood you didn't have. but everything was worth it when a lady from the brothel, one that always treated you and ken as her own children, managed to get a job in the palace and took you and him with her.

the first you noticed when you arrived at the palace was the prince. he was there to welcome the new staff members, and even if you were holding your five-year-old brother close to your chest, he still managed to jump from your arms and run towards the prince to ask if he wanted to play.

you were so embarrassed — ken didn't know yet, but he was the son of a prostitute, someone that wasn't even supposed to touch the crown prince. but shinichiro was kind and held him like you were doing, while you're blushing and panting, saying how sorry you were for your brother's lack of manners. but he only laughed and smiled at ken, asking his name and saying that he and his baby brother would be the bestest of friends.

you could only stand dumbfounded, watching your brother and the prince interacting, before his attention turned to you. you felt your cheeks growing even more hot than they were already, and kenny was looking puzzled between you too — but before any of you could say anything, the head of the staff members called for you, chastising you for bothering the prince and not listening to your superiors. she took you and ken from the prince's presence, and you thought it would be the last time you would see him.

but prince shinichiro sano was already in love with you.

two nights after your first encounter with him, the prince appeared in your room, late at night — with nothing but a few sweets and his favorite drink. you couldn't leave kenny alone, so you two ate what he brought with whispers and rushed laughs surrounding you two. you didn't understand why the prince seemed to like you that much, but after saying goodbye to him with a whisper of your name and a kiss to his cheek, you knew why you liked him that much.

you became princess emma's babysitter two weeks after starting to work in the palace, and you knew it had the prince's fingers on it — but you had always been good with children and the youngest sano was a delight to be around, so you didn't complain. ken also became prince manjiro's companion and best friend, and you knew you could sleep peacefully, knowing that your baby brother would have a different childhood than you did. you were more than grateful to prince shinichiro because of it.

ken and you became honorary members of the royal family, at least to the three siblings and their mother — the king, their grandfather, had always been too unapproachable for you, and you knew the siblings weren't too fond of him too.

alongside being an honorary sano, you became one of the prince's companions when you weren't taking care of his sister. you became friends with takeomi, wakasa and benkei too, to shinichiro's delight — the three of them knew about their friend's hopeless crush for his sister's nanny, and, while they knew such a love could not have a happy end, they encourage the prince to act on his feelings.

and he only did it at twenty, when his grandfather passed away and he was crowned king.

you were there for him throughout the whole day — either taking care of emma or just being near him, trying to lighten his mood a little before the crown was out on top of his head. and shinichiro couldn't help and attack your lips as soon as you two were alone on a balcony on the coronation ball. you were already beautiful in the simple dresses you wore on normal days, but wearing jewels and a tailored dress was a sight that rivalled the moon and the stars.

“be mine.” he whispered against your lips that night, eyes dripping with love and cheeks flushed, making him look even more adorable.

“i've always been, shin.” you whispered back, but, at the deepest part of your heart, you knew that whatever you two had going on, would end soon.

but three years later you were still meeting him every night in his study, back always pressed against a wall while his hands wandered around your body as if you were a poem he was trying to memorize.

“he does not look at me like that, ken.”

“of course he does, sister! when you are going to see that big bro shin loves you?”

you smiled sadly at him. when you are thirteen, everything in life seems easy — you knew that very well. “even if he does love me like you say, kenny, we can not ever be together.” it shattered your heart to say that out loud, but you should take such thoughts from ken's head.

he, too, wasn't the match for princess emma, even though their young love made you feel like a teenager again. “he is a king and i am merely his sister's nanny. we are from different worlds, baby.”

you didn't want your brother to go through the same heartbreak you knew soon you would go through.

but the look in his eyes showed you that he knew that very well. you opened your arms and ken snuggled on them, and you wondered when he had grown so much. he could be heads taller than you, but he would always be a baby to you.

“it will be alright, ken. someday we will know how to deal with this pain.”

—

it was already routine for you to knock on the king's door three times after putting his sister to sleep. if you didn't appear, you should expect a pouty and whiny shinichiro following you around in the next day, and you couldn't let that happen — he was the king now, he was supposed to do his duties instead of chasing your skirts through the castle.

you entered the study as soon as you heard shinichiro's voice, sadness inside your chest. you wished you could protect your brother against all the bad in the world, but even if shinichiro wasn't against a possible relationship and marriage between him and emma, the council was still a hard step to overcome — wakasa, takeomi and benkei would be agreeing with the king, but the older counselors would be against it. and being the majority, they would win.

“what is upsetting my pretty lady?” you didn't even notice that you were standing in front of shinichiro until his hand was cupping your cheek.

you sighed. you couldn't tell him what was plaguing your mind — because he would soothe it with empty promises. “i just noticed how ken is growing up so fast.” it wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie either.

shinichiro nodded, his free hand bringing your body close to his, making you fall on his lap so his arms could hold you close to his chest. he would do anything to see a smile on your face again, understanding where you were coming from. manjiro and emma were growing up too quick to his liking too, but such feelings were the curse of older siblings. he kissed your cheek, then your lips — a quick and sweet peck, that left you breathless nonetheless.

it was shinichiro's gift, to make you breathless.

your hands were soon on his hair while his lips traveled to your neck, kissing and biting to make his so beloved whines to escape your lips. “s-shin, stop teasing.”

he smiled on the flesh of your neck, hand skillfully undoing the laces of your corset. “i still have some paperwork to do, y/n/n.” you knew what he meant by that, and your pupils widened with lust.

your hands soon reached the tent on his trousers, unbelting them and springing his cock from the confines of the fabrics. shinichiro groaned at the feeling of your hand around his length, and he didn't waste no time to lift your skirts and put your underwear aside, helping you to sink down on his cock and stay still until he told you to move.

your arms were soon around his neck, face pressed on the sensitive skin, and shinichiro swore he could die like that — having you around his arms and his cock inside your warm walls. he still couldn't believe how lucky he was that his feelings were reciprocated. he always thought takeomi or benkei to be a better fit for you, as they weren't kings and wouldn't pressure you to be something you didn't want. shinichiro knew you would be a perfect queen, far better than all the princesses his council wanted him to marry, but he would never pressure you to be one.

you tried to move your hips a bit, the feeling of being full was a bit overwhelming to you, taking shinichiro from his thoughts. he patted your head, a small smile gracing his lips. “you know you can not move yet, dearest. i am finishing these papers, and when i’m finished i promise to take care of your needs, alright?”

a nod was what you could give him, and shinichiro tried to fight the urge to smile and kiss you — you were too adorable, and such cuteness had enchanted him since the first time you looked at him with big and teary eyes.

he couldn't wait until he would finally call you his for everyone to hear.

—

princess emma was the cutest person that ever graced the earth.

you didn't know if it was because she grew up alongside three loud older brothers, but she was a delight to have around. always trying to make everyone feel better, or even taking care of them — and you were always there to remind herself to take care of her, too. it was a advice that you were supposed to follow too, but you were always forgetting about it.

and the tears on her face made your heart hurt, too. she wasn't your blood sister, but you were the one who raised her — you first started to take care of the princess when she was three, almost four, and you were there for her when she hit every single milestone of a woman's life.

but you weren't ready for her first heartbreak. because you knew you were, indirectly, the cause of it.

“he said… that w-we can n-not see e-each so m-m-much…” oh, ken. if you knew, you would never have said such things to him. you were only trying to prevent him from the same pain you were feeling, but it seemed as if you brought it earlier to him. your hands stroked the princess' blonde curls, trying to soothe her, while emma's head was resting on your lap.

it was funny, wasn't it? how both you, shinichiro, emma and draken were bound to the same destiny. it seemed as if manjiro was the only one saved from it, and you hoped he would find happiness with someone he could be happy with.

“did i… did i do something wrong, y/n?” the despair in her voice made you flinch, and if you could, you would feel her pain for her. you didn’t mind suffering twice, even thrice, if that meant nor ken or emma would be like that.

“of course not, emma.” your voice was gentle, as you remembered queen sakurako's to be, and you hoped you could ease her heart. “you two are young, but i know ken loves you. and, sometimes, just loving someone is not enough. you do not understand it yet, but carrying such a title like yours, it is necessary to make some sacrifices.”

the sacrifice of one's happiness wasn't supposed to be acceptable, but if you and your brother had to watch both king and princess marry another person and be happy, so the people of the country would be happy, at least you would have each other.

what was the happiness of just one in comparison with a whole kingdom?

“this is why brother does not marry you?”

your hand suddenly stopped its ministrations, and emma rose her head from your lap, a curious glint in her eyes.

“he denied every single one proposition that reached the council, and i think it is because he wants to marry you.” she explained, and you tried to not raise false hopes inside your chest. “i want him to marry you, so you can be my sister i can marry ken.” she pouted, and you chuckled, bringing her smaller body closer to yours.

your head rested on top of hers, mind spiralling with thoughts. as much as you wanted to believe emma's words that shinichiro was denying all proposals because of you, the most realistic thing was to believe that he just hadn't found someone worthy of being his queen. what you two had was bound to end someday, and both of you would move on from this childhood love, have families and be happy.

you kissed her head. “what if i bring some sweets to cheer you up?” you proposed. maybe you couldn't feel her pain for her, but you could try to amenize it.

emma nodded excitedly and you giggled at her reaction, making your way to the kitchens.

you wish you hadn't.

—

“did you hear that the king finally accepted a marriage proposal?” was what you heard when you first put a step inside the kitchens. “he is going to announce it in a week.”

you stopped in your tracks, heart racing. that couldn't be true. he would've told, wouldn't he? you were one of his best friends before being his lover.

“i heard it was from princess akane. she is really beautiful, is not she?” the main cooker commented, unaware of the sound of your heart shattering inside your chest.

“and she is kind, too!” her friend added. “she will be the best queen our kingdom will have. we always knew the king was just waiting for the best bride— oh, y/n, we did not see you there, darling. what the princess want?”

you tried to smile at them, fighting the tears.

princess akane was everything you weren't, and even if the thought of shinichiro loving another was too much for you to bear without wanting to scream from agony, you were happy for him. you only heard good things from princess akane, and you would gladly step away so shinichiro could focus on her — you would never be a mistress, after all.

“i was thinking about some strawberry tarts. the princess woke up a bit sad today.”

—

you were late.

shinichiro tried not to think much about it. he was aware that something transposed between emma and ken in the morning, and you were probably attending to his sister's needs or comforting your brother. he would never make you choose your family over him, but it left him worried, nonetheless — you were quite distant throughout the day, and he was afraid something worse had happened.

he couldn't pinpoint what he was feeling, but it wasn't a good thing. he felt as if he was in the shore, watching as a big wave, with an enormous destructive power, coming, and he couldn't do anything to prevent it from destroying everything he held dear to his heart.

his door opening put his mind at ease, but you were too quiet — not coming to sit on his lap or even hugging him from behind, peppering his face with kisses, like you always did. shinichiro raised his eyes from his paperwork, and the look you were giving him was worrisome. you were determined, but it seemed as if such determination was eating you alive. the agony on your eyes could rival atlas' one, and shinichiro wondered what you were carrying on your shoulders. “y/n, dearest, what happen—”

“we should stop this.”

“what?” he asked, promptly rising from his chair and walking towards you. shinichiro couldn't believe what he was hearing. yesterday you seemed fine, cumming on his cock twice and even leaving him to come inside you and fill you up — whispering how much you loved him and how good he made you feel.

“it is what you heard, your highness.” the politeness of your words was strange, like the first taste of a foreign fruit. but you would grow used to it — he wasn’t your shinichiro anymore. “i no longer love you, therefore i am ending what we have.”

“you are lying.” you never saw shinichiro looking so desperate in his life, and you bit your lower lip in order to keep the tears away. “you love me. what are you saying? what happened, y/n?”

“i only used you, your highness.” you tried again, a lie you rehearsed so many times inside your head before meeting him. “to g-give my brother a better life. now he has o-one and i… i do not need you any more.” you cursed the wobble of your lip and the wet on your cheeks — shinichiro would know you were lying.

and he did.

the feeling of his hands on your face was a cruel reminder that soon they would be doing the same for another woman, that you would never be yours to hold again — princess akane was really a lucky woman, and you wished she could cherish what she was going to have.

you shook your head, getting away from shinichiro's warm fingers. the hurt on his face was too much for you to bear, your feet wanting to take you back to your chambers as soon as you could.

but the king stopped you, a hand holding your wrist as if you were made of glass. “why are you doing this, my love?”

the pet name and the tenderness in his voice brought even more tears to your eyes and you closed them, failing to notice shinichiro's own tears streaming down his face. you were so close to him yet so far — he felt as if he was running eternally, yet he couldn't reach you.

“to prevent us from more heartbreak.” you tried to keep your voice calm, but it was proving to be impossible — not with shinichiro's warmth so close to you. “i love you, shinichiro, but i will never be able to call you mine. i have come to terms with this already, but i will not keep you like an oath while i am nothing but a dirty secret to you.”

shinichiro didn't understand what you were talking about. it didn't make sense on his head, not when he already had a ring and an almost finished speech to proclaim his undying love for you for the whole kingdom to hear in the following week.

“this is over, your highness. please, let me go.” you tried to push your hand back towards you, but shin's hold only tightened around it. you took a deep breath — it would hurt to walk away, but it would be a pain that you would grow used to it.

another scar to your already scarred heart.

“please, shin.” you whispered this time, silent tears wetting your cheeks even more.

“i can not let the love of my life walk away.” he tried to reason with you, because nothing was making sense inside his head. surely something happened that made you think it was better to not act on your feelings for him anymore. “what happened, y/n?” he asked, resting his head in the crook of your neck, arms hugging you by your middle.

a single kiss on your skin was what made you break down, and shinichiro held you while you cried. every tear and every sob that left your body was like the enemy's arrow piercing his skin, and nothing hurt more than seeing you suffer without being able to ease it.

when your sobs became just whimpers, you started to talk — but your mind was already made up. “i do not want to be an obstacle for you to love your future wife, your highness.” you smiled sadly, feeling him stiff on your neck. “i came to terms with the fact that i will see you falling in love with someone, and i am happy for you already.” you turned on his hold, holding his face and brushing your lips against his.

a kiss that would be the last, that tasted of tears and sorrow.

you broke the kiss, and before shinichiro could say or react, you ran from him — hushed steps and a new wave of fresh tears down your face.

the king could only watch as you fled his study, as if you were a criminal. and maybe you were.

you broke his heart like nobody did, after all.

—

“oh, lady y/n! there you are!” you heard the voice of one of emma's maids calling for you and you tried to clean your wet cheeks. you couldn't reach your room before you broke down, crunching down on the ground and trying to disappear.

you nodded, getting up from your place near a window. “does the princess need me?”

the maid nodded, and you took a deep breath, smiling. you could put your suffering aside if your princess needed you — her wellbeing had always come before yours, and you needed to learn how to live with that pain. you followed the maid, your steps not as quickly as they used to be, your body still trembling with a few sobs. the gazes of the maid made you feel even worse than you were feeling, but you thanked her when you reached the princess' room.

emma was sitting on her bed, as if she knew what had happened. “some servants saw you, y/n.” you couldn't believe you were feeling so small under the voice of a twelve-year-old, but you felt like a child being caught by her mother. “why did you choose to suffer alone?” why? you never tried to know why you always preferred to suffer alone. maybe it was because people always needed you to be strong so they could receive your comfort — or maybe it was because you never had someone who would be willing to comfort you.

“i do not know, emma.” you explained. “i am sorry.”

she smiled at you, patting her lap. “you comforted me this morning, so i think it's time for me to return the favor.”

you shouldn't have followed her orders — but emma was your princess, and it would be treason to not do what she said. besides the tears of sadness because of your situation with shinichiro, you were happy. it seemed like you raised emma well, at least.

with your head on her lap and her hand on your hair, you cried for what you lost — a lover, a friend, a future. you always knew you and shinichiro would never be together as a couple. it wasn't possible. you were just a maid, someone that was the daughter of a prostitute. you weren't a match for the king, and you would never be. but you were stubborn and hopeful, and always dreamed of walking down the aisle with ken by your side to meet shin in front of the altar. now, however, you would see another woman doing what you've always dreamed about.

you didn't notice when emma helped you change into sleeping gowns and lay down with you on her bed, just like she used to do when she was younger — her head safely tucked in your chest, her arms hugging you as if you were her personal pillow.

“i don't know what is hurting you, y/n, but i know it'll pass. or i will fight it for you.”

you tried to smile at her, because it wouldn't. it would only pass if you left the castle for good, to not see shinichiro falling in love with someone else.

maybe that was what you were supposed to do.

—

everyone could notice how the king wasn’t being himself.

the staff was buzzing with news of a marriage, but the king didn’t look as happy as a future groom should be. he didn’t smile at them anymore, always locked inside his study — only his close companions being allowed to be there with him. nobody knew what happened to make the king behave like that, but all the staff could see how the princess’ nanny wasn’t on her best days either.

you tried only to stay with emma, always trying to convince her that you two should have lunch and dinner at the balcony, or having breakfast at the garden — you said it would be better for her to not see ken for a while, but it was because you didn’t want to see shinichiro. you knew that as soon as your eyes landed on him, you would immediately ask for his forgiveness and crawl back to his arms. but you shouldn’t and you couldn’t. everyone only talked about how excited they were with the alliance between the sano and inui dynasties, and you wouldn’t be the one who would end it.

you hadn’t heard from shinichiro since the day you broke things off with him, but you knew how he was because of emma and, especially, draken. it seemed like your little brother was making sure that he would always mention the king when you two were talking about — how swollen his eyes seemed during breakfast, or how he hurt himself during a sparring session with wakasa, saying that he wanted you to patch him up. your heart always broke knowing how your actions were breaking him and his heart, but whenever someone said anything about princess akane and her beauty, you knew you were doing the best thing.

six days had passed, and you dreaded when the seventh would arrive — the day when shinichiro would announce his engagement with the foreign princess.

you reached your room, hoping that ken would be already sleeping, as you always made sure to leave before he was awake and arriving when he was already sleeping to avoid talking about the king — because you knew what he did to you, he did to shinichiro too — but the laugh coming from inside it and the light coming from the crack of the door told you otherwise.

entering it with careful steps, you prayed it wasn’t the king with him, but you doubt shinichiro would be laughing like that.

inside the room were your brother, prince manjiro and takashi — the three musketeers, as you nicknamed them. you smiled warmly at the boys, and ken got up to hug you, kissing your cheeks and holding you against his chest. you didn’t know what could have triggered him to act like that in front of his friends, but you smiled and hugged him back, surprised at how his muscles seemed bigger than before.

“what is this all about, kenny?” you asked after a few moments of him hugging you, and you giggled at the boy’s chuckles coming from the table you two had in the room.

your brother didn’t answer you at first, and you looked up to see a tint of red painting his cheeks. you looked puzzled at him and he turned his head to the side, which earned more chuckles and giggles from you and his friends. “it is just… you will look beautiful as a bride.” that only made you more confused.

“takashi said he’ll make your dress, big sis y/n.” you heard the prince saying, and you tried to give a confused look through ken’s body.

“if she wants, that is.” takashi replied.

“well.” you tried to get away from ken’s hold but he only tightened his grip on your waist, despite your confused whines. “i would love for takashi to make me my wedding dress, but i do not even have a groom to marry.”

“you will have if you say yes, y/n.”

you didn’t hear the sound of the door opening nor the heavy footsteps entering your shared room with your brother, probably muffled by the sounds of boyish laughter from his friends — but now the way ken was holding was making sense. because if he wasn’t, you were sure you would've run from the room as soon as your eyes landed on king shinichiro.

he looked like a broken man, as if when you broke up with him, you had taken away all the good things in his life with you. however, you could still see a glint of hope dancing in his onix eyes — you never saw them so lifeless before, not even when his mother died, and you couldn’t forgive yourself for being the cause of it. you didn’t know how much time you two spent just looking at each other, but you were taken away from your trance when the three boys left your room and you heard the princess’ giggles from the corridor.

“what is this about, your highness?” he looked like a rejected puppy at the sound of his title instead of his name, but he walked towards you, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when you didn’t flinch or walked away from him. shinichiro was determined to walk out of your room with a positive answer, because he didn’t know what to do if you didn’t accept his marriage proposal — he would do anything to be yours again, even give up on his title and handover the kingdom to manjiro.

“exactly what it looks like, my love.” he answered calmly, watching as your eyes got glossy at his proximity and the endearment name. you didn’t deserve such treatment, in your opinion, but shinichiro had always been a kind man — but you didn’t deserve to be treated with kindness. he got on one knee and your eyes widened, hands trembling in front of you when he took a beautiful ring from his shirt pocket. it was a simple gold band, but with a clear stone in the middle of it.

was it the ring he was going to propose to princess akane? was he just rehearsing how he would propose to her?

“i love you.” he took your right hand on his free one, bringing it to rest on his chest. you could feel how quick his heartbeat was, and knew its pace only mirrored yours. “these days without you were the worst i had in my life, and to know they only happened because i was a coward only makes me angry at myself.” you looked down at him puzzled, because it had never been his fault. he was just fulfilling his duties, and you would never make him choose between the kingdom and you. “i was supposed to do that months ago, before any weird rumors started to appear.”

he held your hold even more tight against his chest, as if it was the only thing keeping from anchored and not letting him from breaking down. “marry me, y/n, and ease the pain in my heart.”

your first instinct was to refuse. you just shook your head, eyes closed and tears streaming down your cheeks. “i c-can not, shinichiro… w-what about princess a-akane? the whole kingdom expects her, not m-me.” you managed to say through your tears, their flow only growing when you felt his hands tenderly holding your face. his duty was to marry a princess of noble blood and have more noble heirs that would take his place and his siblings’ place, not marry a prostitute's daughter that would taint the sano bloodline with her impure blood.

his warm chuckle reached your ears and you slowly opened your eyes, his fingers wiping the tears that were falling through your eyelashes. “there is no princess akane, my silly girl. i’ve refused her marriage proposal last week.” he reassured you, touching his forehead to yours. “and i do not care about who the kingdom expects me to marry. i am already a good king, and having someone like you as my queen will only make me better.”

you only nodded, lips brushing his, but not fully kissing him. you knew that, if you accepted, your relationship would face a lot of hardships — the older counselors wouldn’t accept the union at first, people would look down at you, because they wanted a princess and not a nanny, and maybe they would never accept you as their queen. but would you be able to let the love of your life walk away again?

“i will ease the pain in your chest, shin. i will marry you and be yours for the rest of my days on this earth.”

—

your life made a 180-degree turn.

shinichiro announced your engagement first to close friends and family. you never saw takeomi and wakasa smiling so brightly, nor did benkei ever hug you so tightly as he did. it was good to be accepted by your lover’s circle of close friends, even though they always knew about your shared feelings — but they were nobles, and nobles with a great influence in the kingdom’s counselors, and having their support would only do good.

emma started to cry when you showed her the ring that once belonged to her stepmother, and even mikey teared up. you hugged them as tightly as you could, and shinichiro soon joined the embrace — they had always been your family, but now it was more real. you would marry their brother, it wasn’t just a daydream that you had while combing through the princess' blonde locks. even after the hug ended, emma still stayed between your arms. you knew what that represented to her, and the first thing you would do as queen was to fight for hers and ken’s happiness.

after them, it was now time for the young knights and companions of the prince to know about it. you and shinichiro left your brother last at his request, and you wondered what your fiance was planning. the cheerful squeals that left the boys mouths were so cute to see, and takashi was already making plans with hakkai about your dress — pah and peh were excited about the party, keisuke, haruchiyo and kazutora already thinking about the beautiful women with beautiful gowns. mana and luna, takashi’s little sisters, and yuzuha, hakkai’s older sister, were already thinking about their dresses, and you couldn't wait until you could put them under your wing.

the last one was ken, of course. shinichiro insisted on having a private dinner with him, and you giggled seeing the flush on your little brother’s face — he knew about the whole engagement thing, and you wondered what shinichiro wanted to do. he didn’t need to try to impress your brother or anything like that, because ken already saw him as a type of hero since he was a small kid.

dinner was pleasant, and you smiled seeing how shin chose all ken’s favorite foods and sweets as the menu. your brother seemed flattered by it, and it was good seeing a happy glint in his eyes — because when you were suffering, he was suffering too. you knew he and emma were still not talking as much as they did before, because he was trying to get rid of his feelings for the princess, but you hoped that now, he wouldn’t feel this hopeless.

shinichiro squeezed your hand under the table, and you looked at his face, puzzled, he just gave you one of his boyish grins. “so, ken.”

“yes, your highness?” you brother replied with his mouth stuffed with chocolate pudding and you almost cringed at his lack of manners.

but shinichiro just smiled. “you know that tomorrow i will announce my engagement to your sister.” ken nodded, a sparkle of excitement shining in his dark eyes. it made you happy, to know what being queen, your brother wouldn’t have to need to worry about anything else in his life — that was what you always wanted, to give him what you hadn’t growing up. “but i also want to announce two more things, but i need your permission to do that.”

shin almost giggled seeing two similar pairs of eyes looking at him with the same expression. you and ken were more alike than you could ever realize. “and what are they, your highness?”

shinichiro only brought your linked hands to rest on top of the table, and you felt your cheeks warm. you had always been affectionate with him, but not in front of others. it was something you would need to grow used to, especially after tomorrow. “i want to make you a duke.” as soon as the words left shin’s mouth you felt tears in your eyes and, before you or ken could protest, the king continued. “and make you my sister’s betrothed.” shinichiro squeezed your hand again, hearing the quiet sniffles that were leaving your mouth. “what do you say, draken?”

you knew it was your brother's decision to make, but you were nodding as soon as he looked at you for guidance — this was more than you ever dreamed of giving him. you just wanted him to have a good and happy life, a life that he didn't need to worry about if he would have food to eat the next day, a life where he would sleep and wake up in warm blankets and a fluffy mattress. being a knight would guarantee that, but shinichiro was transforming your deepest dreams into reality. he was willing to give your brother something that would make life and his offspring's life so much better, and giving a chance of being happy with someone he loved.

“yes, of course, your highness, i could not dream of anything better than this!” the smile on both of your faces could rival the sun, and the tears were coming down your eyes freely. oh, how you loved shinichiro — you couldn't put into words your feelings for him, and you doubt you ever could someday. “does that mean my sister will be a duchess? i do not want her to suffer with any bad repercussions about your engagement to her, your highness.”

“you are a smart boy, kenny.” shinichiro said while he wiped the tears away from your cheeks. “this will make both yours and your sister's life easier, and this is the least i can do for you both.”

“stop this, shin, you are making me cry!”

the room was filled with laughter, and you swore you never felt so much happiness inside your chest. ken left the room to find emma, and you found yourself trapped between the king's arms, his hands stroking your hair and his voice almost luring you to sleep. tomorrow would be the hardest day of your life, you were sure of it.

the day shinichiro announced his engagement to you was a difficult one. a happy one, but still difficult.

as expected, no one believed that their king was going to exchange the marriage with a prestigious princess that would bring riches to the kingdom to marry the princess’ nanny. the counselors were furious with shinichiro’s choice and you could see it in their faces — but he held your hand through the whole time, and trying to make you less nervous and anxious. that seemed to work for a while, but then, you started to hear the whispers. the staff in the castle knew what your childhood had been, who your mother was and where did you come from, and they didn’t seem happy to know that someone that was born even below them was going to be their queen.

the people took it better than you thought, especially the lowborns just like yourself. the nobles were quite skeptical about the arrangement, thinking that someday the king would grow tired of you and they could make their daughters a royal mistress, but nobody except you and shinichiro knew how deep your love for each other was. but they grew into their idea, nonetheless. in the end of the day, shinichiro was still the king and, if they wanted to fall into his good graces, they would need to accept you.

the acceptance with the nobles came easier than with the palace’s staff, but you couldn’t do much. they would start to like you in their own terms, and you tried to shield yourself with those who had always liked you — takeomi, benkei, wakasa, princess emma and prince manjiro, your brother and the boys, mana, luna, yuzuha. they made your days better, and you couldn’t be more grateful. emma and the girls were helping you with etiquette lessons, and how you should act as a queen, takeomi taught you the basics of the kingdom, such as its economy and difficulties, while benkei and wakasa — and sometimes the prince, your brother and the boys, too — were helping you with self defense and horse-riding.

shinichiro knew you wouldn’t need any of that to be a good queen, but it was cute to see you so invested in your new duties.

while you were busy with your queenly duties, you were also making the preparations for the wedding. shinichiro let everything in your hands, since it would be your day — both your wedding and coronation would happen in the same afternoon, and he wanted everything to be to your liking. sometimes he would join you, giving his opinion about the decoration or the flowers. emma would always chastise him, saying how both he and draken didn’t know a thing about a woman’s mind, and that you were always more rational than them.

you only giggled every time such a thing happened. shinichiro would playfully roll his eyes, watching with fond eyes how emma and draken would bicker as if they were already married.

as promised, takashi was the one who made your dress. for a knight, he had such kind and talented hands, and he didn’t let anyone but himself work on it or even see your dress. you wanted to see shinichiro’s reaction seeing you for the first time in the aisle, even though you probably knew what was going to be — his boyish grin trying to hide the tears coming from his eyes. you were also excited to see ken’s reaction, since he was the one who was going to walk you down until you met your future husband.

your brother's reaction to you as a bride was everything you expected of him — him fighting back his tears while he tried to smile at you, but sobbing on your shoulders when you hugged him. takashi made sure that the dress was comfortable enough for you to be able to move freely, especially to hug others, but he still kept the fashion aspects the kingdom demanded of you. if his career as a knight wouldn't prevail, you would make him the official royal tailor.

ken's arm intertwined with yours was what kept you away from walking away — the thousand pair of eyes on your figure when the doors of the chapel opened was too much, but you could see shinichiro waiting for you at the end of the aisle. you kept your gaze fixated on him for the most part, watching as his shoulders trembled and takeomi gave them some pats, the crown on top of his black curls shining brighter than anything. sometimes you would steal some glances at your brother, still not believing that he was now a duke, and you were going to be a queen.

your brother offered you to the king, tears streaming down his face. you were glad you had a veil — albeit thin — covering your face, because you were sure you were a worse crying mess than your brother and your future husband. shinichiro kissed your hand, leading you to the designated place. “you look so beautiful.” he whispered in your ear while the priest said his blessings, and you giggled. you just squeezed his hand, that was still intertwined with yours, not knowing if you would be able to say anything without crying.

the priest said his blessings over the rings you two would share as testimony of the alliance being made through your marriage, and shinichiro was finally able to get a glimpse of your face. emma took the veil out of your face with grace, and now everyone could see how bad you were crying — it was a bit embarrassing, just a few minutes from being crowned queen crying in front of such a big crowd like that, but you could only focus on shinichiro and the smile on his face. you two exchanged rings, kissing each other's hands after it, and you knew now it was time.

your brother was the one carrying the crown and the sceptre, and in the place of the priest were now two chairs — yours and shinichiro’s thrones. he sat on his and you kneeled, doing what emma had taught you. the kingdom hasn't had a queen coronation since the day queen sakuraro married king makoto, shin’s and mikey's parents, but you weren’t even born to remember it. you knew all the eyes were on your figure, but you kept yours glued at shinichiro’s hands.

“look at me, my love.” he whispered, hand softly caressing your chin to lift your face. you were looking at your husband now, and the thought made your heart race even more. husband and king.

the act started, a tradition made long before you and shinichiro even thought of existing — you had the words memorialized by heart, and you said them with ease. it started with an oath, of how you were going to dedicate your life to the kingdom and its people, then a profession of your love for your new husband. it ended with shinichiro putting the crown on top of your head, and handling the sceptre. your husband helped you to get up, mana and luna ready to assist you with your dress so you could sit on your throne without any complications. with linked hands, you first looked at shinichiro, who was already looking at you, hearing the crowd cheering for their new queen — just after a wink from him that you had courage enough to look at the crowd, seeing some familiar faces, but all of them seemed eager and overjoyed with your coronation.

—

“i can not believe you are my wife.” shinichiro said as soon as you two arrived in your now shared chambers.

the feast was amazing. the food was, as always, amazing too — you almost cried seeing all the cooks addressing you as their queen, making all your favorite foods and smiling when you praised them. it was still strange to have people bowing at you when you were the one bowing at them once, or hearing how pompous their words were for you. but both you and shinichiro had fun, laughing and dancing with each other or with your friends.

but the night was over, and now you were in your new rooms.

it would be strange not sharing a room with your brother, and you knew you would miss his company — but ken would be just a few floors below you, until he came of age and received his own state. you knew he was excited about that, because then he would be able to marry emma and have his happily ever after.

“wife, wife, wife.” shinichiro chanted while you tried to take the jewels and other ornaments from your body, taking care to not damage any of them, especially your crown.

“and you are my husband.” you replied, getting up from your dressing table and walking to the bed, where your husband was laying comfortably — he had lost his coat in the feast, only wearing his white shirt and trousers. his cheeks were slightly flushed due to alcohol consumption, and his eyes were shining with the purest emotions you ever saw. “then be a good husband and help me take this dress out, will you? i am aware you can not wait to see what is beneath it.”

ever since you were betrothed to him, you two stopped seeing each other in more intimate situations. both because you were too busy and just wanted to sleep peacefully when night arrived, but also because shinichiro didn’t want anyone to think he was marrying you just because you had sex and you were forcing him to do it.

he was on his feet in no time, skillful hands undoing the laces on the back of your corset, doing movements that he knew like the back of his heart. you missed having shinichiro’s fingers on your back — they were always gently, ghosting your skin as if he was afraid of breaking you.

he finished his ministrations with a kiss on the nape of your neck, hands wrapping themselves around your waist and bringing you to rest on his chest. he sighed contently on your neck and you smiled. you would never have thought you would marry him, like your teenage self always dreamed about. it was too good to be true, and you were afraid someone would try to take such happiness from you.

“i can not believe you are finally mine.” he said after a few moments of feeling your skin under his fingertips, lips pressing light kisses in the exposed skin of your neck and shoulder.

you giggled at the feelings of his lips on your warm skin. “i have always been yours, shin. it is just official now.” you turned around on his hold, holding his head between your hands. he kissed your palm and you smiled at him.

“like i have always been yours too, y/n.” he confessed, resting his forehead against yours. you closed your eyes, lips brushing carefully against his. “can i kiss my wife?” he asked playfully and you just squished his cheeks before pressing your lips against his.

you didn’t notice how you arrived in your bed, only focused on the feeling of shinichiro’s hands roaming your body and how good his kisses tasted now that they weren’t prohibited. your back hit the mattress, your dress already on the ground, leaving you only in your undergarments — shinichiro was, too, only with his trousers on, his shirt on the floor alongside your dress. “you are the most beautiful woman of this kingdom.” he whispered against your lips, mouth traveling south to suck on your collarbone, hands cupping your clothed breasts. “the poets will sing of your beauty for years to come, my love.”

he always knew how to make you embarrassed and a blushing mess under him with his sweet words.

“and the girls will dream of having a love story like ours, shin, just as the poets will write.”

—

you would never grow tired of seeing your husband interacting with your daughter.

you were sure sakurako was conceived on the night of marriage, if your calculations were right — she was such a blessing in both yours and shinichiro’s lives, arriving in a snowy day, with a strong cry and big black eyes and a small tuft of hair inherited from her father too. as soon as he held the baby girl in his arms, his mother’s name came from his mouth. you didn’t care, of course. you knew queen sakuharo just from a couple of years before she died, and she had always been nothing but kind to you, being one of the main reasons why you became emma’s nanny.

naming your daughter after her was the best thing to do.

shinichiro was the best father in the world. you knew he had experience with children due to his younger siblings, but it was different. sakurako was nothing but a daddy’s girl — a mommy’s girl too, but her bond with shinichiro was something else. she always smiled the brightest when he was around, always babbled more excitedly when she was with him than when she was with her uncles and aunt, and always wanted to be in his arms.

but she was still a mommy’s girl, after all.

“i can not believe she did not want to be held by me.” shinichiro pouted from his place on the bed, arms dramatically over his head.

you held sakurako closer to your chest, rocking her while you walked around your chambers. “do not be dramatic, husband. she loves you, but sometimes only mama can comfort her.” you looked down, smiling at her sleeping form. she wasn’t even one year old yet, two months away from her first birthday, but you could tell that despite having shinichiro’s looks, her personality was from you. her small hand was holding tightly the neckline of your dress, her cheeks pressed against your collarbone.

averting your eyes to your husband, you smiled seeing him already looking at you. shinichiro never stopped looking at you as if it was the first time he saw you, always a lovestruck and boyish glint shining on his eyes even after almost two years of marriage. “you are such a good mother for her.” he whispered, getting up from the bed and embracing you gently, to not startle the toddler between your arms. he couldn’t understand how his daughter could find comfort in the fabrics you used as clothing, but maybe it was your smell that calmed her — you always smelled like home to him, and sakurako probably inherited that from him too.

you never thought about your motherly skills, not like your husband seemed to do. you had a previous experience with both your brother, princess emma and prince manjiro, but they weren’t infants when you started to take care of them — well, ken was, but you still had help from the ladies in the brothel until he started to walk and talk. “you think so, shin?” you bounced sakurako a bit before leaning on your husband's chest, head resting on his shoulder while his arms rested in your hips.

he hummed. “sakurako thinks so, too. everyone does, and everyone is amazed how good you are with her.” he praised you, eyes observing his sleeping daughter. “maybe a little prince would be good now, do not you think?” you gasped softly, eyes widened at the thought — but it wasn’t an unpleasant idea. “emma and ken, and mikey are too young to have children, and i doubt my friends are going to marry soon.” he argued, kissing your cheek. “sakurako needs a company.”

mana and luna were already her company, but you understood where your husband was coming from. “well, maybe i could drop her off to her nannies if you want to start now?” you suggested, giggling at the feeling of his lips nibbling the skin of your neck.

“can we stay like this for a little while?” he suggested back and you nodded, closing your eyes and leaning even more on his body. shinichiro kissed your forehead, humming a lullaby you recognized as the same one you used to sing for emma — and sometimes ken — when she had a nightmare and couldn’t sleep.

you were right. shinichiro couldn’t wait until the poets wrote about the everlasting love between the two of you.

for aria — i don't have words how important you are for me, bby. you're my twin, someone that is always here to listen to me ranting about my crushes or here to listen about my heartbreaks, someone that have such a beautiful light that i know brightens all the room you're in. you deserve only the best things the world can offer, okay? happy 21st birthday, my twin!!! i can't believe we're finally the same age ehehe i love you so much, and you know this!!!

taglist — @1900-aria @softbajis @tooweirdforyou @etheralyonn @lonnie19 @rayfuyu @chronic-claire-universe @aqualesha @winterv-black @nanamis-wifey-reye @sureconfused @sanzuhachoo @furiousturtlespyfire @rinsie @sanzu-s

#sano shinichiro x reader #sano shinichiro #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro fluff #shinichiro sano x reader #shinichiro sano #regalità & magia - collab

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