HELLO YALL- It's Chol!

(x)

An annoyed sigh left your mouth as you eyed the young Lord that stood before you— yet another suitor that doesn’t seem to understand that you are not willing to bargain when it comes to the requirement to win your hand. You could've sworn you've made it pretty clear, and yet just when you thought that you’d managed to make them all give up with your little task, somehow these men still insist on attempting to woo you with gifts and honeyed words. At this point they’re just wasting both your time and theirs.

For the life of you, you simply can’t understand what’s going on through their mind. What is so hard to understand? You didn't ask for crystal jewelries made of a goddess' tears, you asked for the heart of the Whitefang manticore. It’s not like you talked in riddles when you had asked your previous suitors for it, and you don’t doubt that words have spread about it, so what gives? And then they have the audacity to act as if you were the one that’s wasting their time when you’ve made it very clear that you will not be interested in their advances unless they’ve accomplished the task first. It's not your fault that none of them are competent enough to get it, and it's certainly not your duty to humor them when they can't even do this one thing you've asked. If anything, it just shows you that they think they could change your mind so easily with their silly little gifts and that really soured your mood that you could barely bring yourself to feign a smile right now.

"What's this now?" you asked, your sweet tone barely masked the irritation that nearly seeped out of your voice as you glanced down at the box on his squire's hand before he presents what's inside for you. Oh, great, it's another necklace— judging from the deep red color of the gem, it's most likely one of those rare, enchanted blood rubies. You’ve only seen one in person before, and as beautiful as it is, it’s still not the manticore heart that you’d asked.

"It's an enchanted blood ruby necklace, Princess," Lord Errick confirmed your guess with such a prideful tone as if none of the previous suitors had tried to win your favor with enchanted items. "It's very rare and hard to acquire, a gem fitting for a beautiful Princess like you."

"Ah, it is quite lovely indeed," you hum in feigned interest before you glanced at him. There was a brief silence between you two as you lean back against your father’s throne before you spoke again. "If it is truly so difficult to acquire this, would you agree when I say that I deserve only the best?"

"Why, of course, Princess! I would not dare to think anything less!"

"Really? Do you really think so?"

You tilt your head, your smile fading considerably as you give him an unimpressed look. This caused him to pause, as he begun to panic internally. Had he said something to upset you? You’ve always been a bit unpredictable, so he’d tried his best to say nothing but flattery to you, and yet even despite that, he had somehow managed to push the wrong button. You can see that he’s not the only one thinking this, either, as the air in the throne room became thick with tension from the hostile look you’re giving him.

"Yes...? That's what I really think, Princess," he answered hesitantly, your cold gaze chipping away at his confidence, turning the smile on his face into an uncertain grimace.

You didn't say anything for what felt like an eternity for the poor Lord, wordlessly staring at him as though you're giving him a chance to think where he went wrong. And frankly, you are. You want to see if he could use his head to figure out why you're so displeased by his attempt to win your hand.

The silence slowly grows suffocating as you began to see that the other suitors behind him are also starting to shift around anxiously, which tells you that they all know what this is about. You don't feel bad for causing them such discomfort— why should you when they were the ones that decided to waste your time like this?

You let out yet another heavy sigh, your manicured nails tapping impatiently on the armrest as you stared at your disappointing suitors. "I must say that I am deeply disappointed, gentlemen. I thought I've made my requirement clear, but it seems that neither of you had accomplished—"

You had to stop yourself from absolutely losing your temper as the huge double doors to the throne room is slammed open, startling the Lords that were already tense from your clear disapproval of their gifts and interrupting your sentence. The way the Lords nearly jumped looked pretty comical to you, and you would've laughed if you're not pissed off. Who dares to barge in into the throne room like this?

Your question was soon answered when you realized that you do in fact recognize your uninvited guest, and the sight was so surprising to you that you immediately forgot about your anger.

Dorian. Not the elegant Dorian you knew, but one with glowing blue eyes, messy hair, clothes ripped and although it seemed like he tried to clean himself up a bit, you still can see the stain of blood on his shirt. You’ve never seen him like this before, and you can’t deny that you find yourself liking this side of him. You can guess what probably happened just from your conversation with him two days ago and you subconsciously held your breath in anticipation as you wonder if he managed to accomplish the task.

You could barely keep the smile off your face as he walks toward you with purpose, his footsteps made no sound despite the deafening silence as your suitors stared at you with horror, fearing your reaction to this sudden intrusion. Does he have death wish? It's no secret that you’re quite ruthless when you're angry, and now he's here, all messy and uncouth while he practically stormed his way in. The Lords can only assume that he’d gone insane, as no sane man would do what he’s doing right now.

They were so focused on your reaction that they didn't seem to realize that Dorian didn’t just come here to scare them and make everyone question his sanity. You were the first to notice that he has something in his hand. Something that your so-called suitors had failed to acquire despite their “attempt” to win your heart, and something you had asked since the first time your mother decided that it's time for you to find a husband.

The Whitefang manticore's heart.

Without his usual grace, he threw it on the floor just beneath the stairs to the throne, eliciting a shocked and scandalized gasp from some of the Lords. Your guards don’t react kindly to it either, as they immediately reach for the hilt of their swords with alarmed look on their faces, thinking that this is some sort of threat as they’re aware that the both of you seemed to always have tension whenever the two of you are together, although they'd never considered the tension between the two of you to be the hostile sort of tension before this. But Dorian doesn't seem to care about their reaction— his intense gaze is fixed on you and only you, and you begin to wonder if he could hear how fast your heart is beating right now just from how excited you feel.

"There," he said gruffly, his deep voice makes your stomach stir. "The manticore's heart you've wanted so bad."

You nearly swoon. He got you the manticore's heart while he looks and sounds like that? It’s honestly a miracle how you managed to restrain yourself from jumping him, and not in the violent way either. You’ve always thought he looked heartbreakingly gorgeous, but now? He looks absolutely divine. Knowing that he most likely wouldn’t show this side of him often, you made sure to memorize every single detail of his appearance right now just so you can ask your personal painter to paint this image of him later.

“My, my,” you practically purred, the sweet, almost seductive sound causing his heart to flutter in his chest as he inhaled softly, trying his best to keep the annoyed look on his face. “What have we here? Do we finally have someone who takes this seriously? Color me shocked, Lord Dorian.”

“So, what now?”

You raised an eyebrow at his demanding tone, but he didn’t back down. He’s done what you’ve asked, and now he wants to know if you truly meant what you said. You’re not surprised by this— he never did find you intimidating no matter how ruthless you could be— and the delighted look in your eyes is enough to tell him that you are far from displeased by his boldness.

“What now?”

You tilt your head slightly to the side as you repeated his question before you stand up from the throne, a wicked grin formed on your face as you wonder if he realized what he just did. Whether he meant it or not, he had practically just announced that not only he is interested to court you to everyone here, but he had also showed that he’s willing to do just about anything to ensure that he’ll win your hand. After all these years of teasing and trying to get him to admit that he has feelings for you, you’ve finally won without having to lift a single finger and it feels exhilarating.

The clicks of your heels fill the heavy silence in the room as you approach him, and the closer you get, the tenser he became. At this point, he must’ve realized that he’d played right into your hand as the annoyed look on his face faltered, and even more so when he sees how smug you are as you made your way toward him. Suddenly, it feels like there’s only you and him in the throne room, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself other than to question his own decisions.

Why did he decide to hunt the manticore despite knowing how dangerous it was? Why did he feel the need to prove just how capable he is to you? He absolutely cannot stand you, so the thought of another man being able to accomplish this feat shouldn’t have bothered him that much… right? You are supposed to be the most vexing, wicked, and unpleasant woman that he’s even had the displeasure to know. So why is it that even now, he finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from you as you make your way to him?

His icy blue eyes are filled with uncertainty and doubt when he glanced down at you as you finally stand right in front of him— although he tries to look as unfazed as he could, the way his throat bobbed slightly as he nervously gulped didn’t go unnoticed by you, causing the glimmer of amusement in your eyes to become even more prominent. To other people, he might look dangerous right now, but unfortunately for him, you can read him far too well to feel intimidated by how insane he must’ve look right now.

You raise your hand, wanting to wipe the blood on his cheek but he swiftly grabs your wrist, which seems to have greatly alarmed the other Lords. Some of them let out a scandalized gasp, followed by some chaotic clamoring in the background. How dare he! Just barging into the throne room while you’re supposed to see your suitors is already outrageous as is, and now he dares to grab your wrist? Absolutely preposterous!

Few of the Lord began looking at the guards, as if silently demanding them to do something. This can’t be right, for the Princess to be touched by a beast, even if it’s just a grab on the wrist. But your guards did nothing despite their protest. They knew better than to interrupt this. The last time they tried to get between Dorian and you, you were so angry some of them still couldn’t look at you in the eyes until this day. And seeing how pleased you are by this, they knew that you don’t need any help and all they could do is try and calm down the complaining Lords who seem to assume that Dorian’s about to drain your blood if the guards wouldn’t do anything about him.

As for the both of you, neither of you said anything while you observed his expression. Dorian’s grip on your wrist might be firm enough for it to be a warning, but it is also still gentle enough to make sure he doesn’t accidentally hurt you with his immense strength. Despite the stern look he’s attempting to give you to salvage his wounded pride, you can easily see the conflicted look in his eyes and you began to grow hopeful that he’d let go of this foolish charade and just admit that he feels affection for you.

“Is the thought of you falling for me so horrible, Lord?” Even if you weren’t a half-fey with sharp hearing and can’t hear how his breath hitched in his throat, you doubt you’d be able to miss how he looked absolutely taken aback by your bold question. It was only a split second, but it was enough for you to confirm that he does indeed have feelings for you, even if he’s too prideful to admit it.

“... It is. You are the wicked woman that haunts me and will not allow me even a moment of peace—”

“Truly? Then why did you hunt down the manticore knowing full well that it’s the task that I had asked the Lords to do to win my hand?”

He opened his mouth, but nothing really came out as he doesn’t really know what to say about that. Deep down, he knows why, but knowing about it and admitting it are two vastly different things. A part of him is afraid— afraid that this is just one of your wicked games and that you’d mock him when he shows you his true feelings. What if you’d planned for this to happen? He wouldn’t be able to face anyone ever again if that is the case.

So, instead of saying the truth, he simply said, “I don’t know.”

“Oh, I think you do, my Lord. I think you do, but something is stopping you from being honest to me.”

As always, you managed to read him like an open book, and this greatly unnerved him. Your gaze softens, knowing that he feels extremely vulnerable right now. You need to approach this carefully lest you wish to scare him away. So, you lowered your hand, placing your other hand over his to give it a gentle, reassuring squeeze to show him that you’re here for him. That you won’t mock him if he decides to be open and honest with you. That despite your taunting words and silly games, deep down you truly care for him.

“What are you so afraid of, Dorian?”

Your voice was sincere and soft— it’s quiet enough to make sure no one would be able to hear you, but still loud enough for him to hear and for the first time, he genuinely looks devastated in front of you without any urgency to mask it from you. Just by looking at the sincere concern on your face right now, he realized that he has lost this battle against you. Try as he might, he simply couldn’t bring himself to hide anymore. Not when he feels as though you’re clutching his heart in your palm like this.

“It is true.” His voice was low, almost as quiet as yours when he finally spoke and you say nothing, intent on listening to what he has to say. “I am afraid. I’m afraid that this is just some sort of a cruel game to you, designed for your amusement and nothing more. I’m scared that if I ever show you even the slightest bit of vulnerability, you’ll sink your claws deeper and if that happens, I…” he trailed off, swallowing thickly as he tries to contain his emotions. “If I allow myself to admit what I feel for you, I fear I will not be able to let this go even when you’ve grown bored of our games. I fear I will never be able to forget you when I have to.”

You nod silently. A part of you had suspected that this was the case, but hearing it admit it to you really breaks your heart. Have you really been that cruel? You are aware of the games you’ve played, but despite everything, you’ve always enjoyed your time with him. And why wouldn’t you? Even when he pretended as though he couldn’t stand you, he would always give you his coat when you’re cold, and he would be the first to wield his sharp tongue without any hesitation when someone dared to step out of line and speak badly of you. In your eyes, he’s nothing short of perfection, so why can’t he see that?

“I am offended, Dorian,” you said, and your heart sank when you see his face fell that you had to quickly elaborate. “I am offended that despite all the years we’ve known each other, you somehow couldn’t see how dear you are to me. You know me, hopefully enough to know that I would not bother to pester someone I don’t care about. But perhaps it is not entirely your fault, as my attempts to get your attention might come off a bit… childish. That’s probably why you can’t really be sure of my intention, and I can’t blame you for it.”

His eyes widen in disbelief when you said that and you avert your gaze, clearly embarrassed by your own admission. You would never be caught dead admitting your faults, and yet here you are, acknowledging that perhaps your way of getting his attention caused him some confusion and uncertainty. If few days ago someone had told him that you would say anything like this to him, he would’ve laughed in their face and tell them that you’d sooner jump off a cliff with a dress made of rag. But here you are, opening yourself up for him like he did to you, and it completely threw him off.

“What I’m saying is, I will be more than pleased if you really do try to pursue a relationship with me,” you tried to explain just in case he still doesn’t get it, your impatience seeping through your voice. “Or, if you wish to continue this game of cat and mouse, I will—”

He didn’t let you finish your sentence before he pulls you by the waist and leans in to capture your lips, effectively stopping your rambling as your let out a small, surprised gasp.

Is this really happening? Did Dorian really just kiss you?

Your question was soon answered as you feel his lips move against yours. His lips are so soft, and his kiss is filled with so much longing and desperation that you can’t help but melt against him with a longing sigh of your own. Lord Dorian, who barely ever smiled in public, really kissed you in front of everyone. Such intimate display is highly inappropriate, but you’ve never been one to care about such silly rules, especially when you finally get what you’ve wanted for so long. You even clutched at his ripped shirt like your life depends on it, as if you’re still not satisfied with this and wants him even closer somehow despite the fact that you’re pressed flush against his front.

At this point, the captain of your guards already knows that it’s probably the best for everyone to leave. There’s no need for everyone to see this. You didn’t even realize how your guards are practically herding the complaining Lords out of the throne room, too invested with this new territory in your relationship with Dorian. It wasn’t until the both of you pulled away from the kiss that you finally realized that everyone had left the two of you alone, which makes you giggle in amusement, especially when you see how the tip of Dorian’s ears had reddened as if he had just realized that the other Lords most likely witnessed how he’d kissed you.

“Oh, is this amusing for you?” he chided playfully, his hands are still resting on your waist and he doesn’t seem to be interested to remove them.

“Way to show everyone that you’re claiming me, Dorian,” you teased, the mischievous grin on your face only grew as his cheeks turned red from your choice of words, especially combined with how you shamelessly running your fingers on the exposed skin of his chest.

“You should really watch your words, Princess. Someone might misunderstand if they hear you say that.”

“Let them,” you practically purred as you lean in to press soft kisses on his cheek that trailed down to his jawline, causing him to shiver a bit against you. “And am I wrong? I mean, you did accomplish the one task I’ve given for anyone to be able to win my hand, and practically showed it off in front of everyone.”

“I’m just saying you could’ve worded it differently, but who am I to tell the Princess what to do?”

“Mm. Smart. That’s why I like you.”

He can’t help but smile. Now that the cat’s out the bag and he has openly admitted his feelings for you, he can no longer pretend to be indifferent. Still, one question still bugs him in the back of his mind, and you can tell that something is bothering him just from the way his thumb is anxiously rubbing your skin. This earned him a raised eyebrow from you as you looked at him expectantly, silently urging him to just spit it out.

“I’m just… I’m wondering where we’re going with this. We’ve decided to move past our pretenses and be honest to each other, but… did you mean what you say when…?”

His words trailed off, but you understand exactly what he’s asking. It’s cute how he looks so nervous, you almost wanted to be mean and tease him for it, but you decided against it knowing how vulnerable and delicate he feels right now.

Perhaps another time, then.

“I mean everything I’ve said to you. But it is your choice whether you want me as your betrothed or not. If you do, we can talk to your father and mine about it, although I’m pretty sure words have spread at this point.”

You have no doubt in your mind that your father would be overjoyed to hear about this since he’s been subtly suggesting for you to choose Dorian as your future husband, and your mother would most likely be pleased as well as she had been urging you to get married, so you’re really not worried about your parents’ reaction to this news. Honestly, you’re more worried about how Dorian would feel when he realized that the nobles would talk about how he had showed up here today looking like a mess and kissed the Princess. He’s a private person, after all, so perhaps you should do something about them.

“Oh, no. I know that look. Please don’t try to kill anyone,” he said half-jokingly, drawing a small laugh from you. Little did he know, that was actually what you had in mind, but you figured he doesn’t need to know that now.

“Very well, only because you’ve asked so nicely. So, what is your choice? Shall we pay our fathers a visit?”

Your impatience didn’t miss his attention, and it surprised him a bit that you seem to be so eager to make it official with him. He’s not complaining about it, though. No, he’s far too delighted to complain since the fact that you’re so impatient means that his anxiety and fear were wrong about you. To say that he’s relieved would be an understatement, and he couldn’t agree faster to your proposal.

“I should probably change my clothes first, but yes, we shall pay them a visit.”

You nod in acknowledgement, practically beaming with excitement when he gently grabs your chin before pulling you in for another kiss as if to seal the deal. It seems that once again he managed to brighten your day, and you simply can’t wait for what the future holds for the both of you. Of course, there are still lots of things to arrange before you could make your betrothal official, but for now, you’re content to just have him with you.

jesus in the hades art style

when I was younger I didn’t understand why “may you live in interesting times” was considered a curse in ancient greece.

I get it now.

Being aroace is so cool, but so, so hard sometimes. Watching all the persons you hold dear finding *their* person. Grieving the idea of an allo relationship. Realizing that, maybe, somehow, you're the second choice fo everyone. Because friends are great, but **lovers** are the goal in our society.

Most of the time, i am sooo happy to be aroace. And then, when im alone in bed, at 3 am, i find myself crying by fear of being alone.

And I think it's normal. It's grieving a certain way of thinking. And it's hard, especially when you were raised this way, and that everyone keeps doubting your identity.

So yeah. Shout-out to all the aroace people, wanting a deeper connection, without wanting romantic love.

I love y'all

Putting this here in case anyone wants it to decipher stuff.

How is anyone supposed to be normal after that. G-d looked back at me for a minute

“x reader is so cringe.” to YOU. im reading this shit and having a ball ‼️

the butcher and the mechanic - happy manwhore monday every1

wanted to play dress up :)