I dont know if you will read this but if you do...
Can you make a plot of person A being turned to stone and person B trying to find a way to bring them back?
"B.... B please stop."
"No I can't, I can't, I need to- I need to find a way-"
"B they're dead-"
"NO, I can help! I can save them, I just need to find the right-"
"B THEY'RE DEAD, STONE, KAPUT, YOU CANT SAVE A ANYMORE SO JUST STOP."
cyno x gn!reader
General Mahamatra’s significant other is here.
Most Akademiya scholars, for all their pride in being well-read intellectuals, have little to no clue on how a person like you managed to have a relationship with the intimidating Matra. You were… well, in most circumstances, they wouldn’t hesitate to judge you based on your background—or lack, thereof, in terms of your studies—but as stated earlier, Lord Cyno is Intimidating.
They watch you bid him goodbye with an embrace and a far too large grin on your bubbly-looking face. Cyno, for his part, returns your embrace stiffly, a rare smile brightening his usually stoic expression. The scholars watch the interaction with barely hidden interest, pretending to read a book or, in one woman’s case, pretending to sweep the floor.
They all collectively cringe inside when they see you trip on your own robes and nearly fall face-first onto the floors if you hadn’t managed to grab onto a table for support. You were just so… they hastily flick their eyes to Lord Cyno in case he magically heard their thoughts, only to see him watching you with a fond, out of place look in his eyes.
Right. There’s the issue of that too. He’s soft when you’re around, less unapproachable to others. But then there’s the issue of you and your general… you-ness.
You’re by the archway leading to the exit a few feet away from him, waving your hand in the air like a child. Then you stop as if an idea has formed in your head, and within this moment and the next, you bring your palm to your lips and blow a kiss in General Mahamatra’s direction, an exaggerated mwah! sound echoing through the chamber.
Most scholars have agreed to never speak of you in a bad tone after seeing what Lord Cyno did to the last person who did so. It’s best to just turn a blind eye to most of the things you do that would normally have them raising an eyebrow like the haughty intellectuals they are.
But this thing they’re seeing right now? It’s absurd enough in their eyes that a few don’t manage to contain the scoff that spills from their lips. (Cyno sweeps a chilling gaze over them and memorizes each face frozen in horror over what they’ve just done.)
Much to the shock of everyone within vicinity of such a display, Cyno doesn’t turn around and ignore your childish act. Instead, he brings his hand up and pretends to catch your kiss, bringing it to his lips before blowing one right back at you. All of this is done with a straight face that would have normally sent a young student running in the opposite direction.
You catch it with both hands and place them right in front of your chest, pretending to swoon as you slowly walked away. It brings the smallest of smiles to Lord Cyno that doesn’t disappear until you’re gone from eyesight.
They have a brief moment to sigh in relief at the thought of them being in the clear.
But then he turns to them with a dark look that has their knees shaking in fear.
“I heard those scoffs.”
They all send a short prayer to Greater Lord Rukkhadevata.
phainon x gn!scholar reader, phainon is so in love and reader is oblivious
The Chrysos Heir is in love.
The moment Phainon’s eyes first met yours, there was a stutter in his heart, an indescribable feeling of reverence coupled with curiosity creeped into his being when he first met you.
Beautiful. That was the only word he knew at the time.
Your beauty was unparalleled, unmatched as you saunter into his view, mind not exactly present in the moment as your clothes swayed with your every hurried step. Your eyes were foggy, a testament to your dedication and work, evidenced by the tablet you held snug to your side.
He decides in that moment that he wants to know you, so he purposefully sets himself in your line of movement and waits for the moment when you bump into him, far too focused in a world that wasn’t the one you were presently in. Fate decided to be kind to him when you fall right into his schemes, allowing him to catch you with an arm secured around your waist, your tablet falling to the stone pavement with a dull smack.
“Oh my!” you exclaim. “My utmost apologies, I was not aware of where I was going-”
He smiles, for the last thing he was thinking of was your apology. Even your voice is beautiful, the words flowing into his ears like warm ichor.
“It’s alright,” he reassures with that smile of his, almost faltering when his heart skips another beat the moment your eyes flit to look at his. Phainon thinks he’s going to collapse to his knees if you glance away. “I’ll forgive you if you tell me your name.”
Unaware of his flirtatious intentions, you sound out the syllables of your name and he repeats it with much wonder. “What a lovely name. I’m Phainon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The Chrysos Heir is in love.
It’s been two years since he first met you, and you are still just as enchanting.
He learns you are a widely renowned scholar and author, which explains the tablet you held that day. Of course, you were shocked the moment he uttered his name, for the titles of the Chrysos Heirs were well known, essentially common knowledge for those that flourished in the world of academia. Phainon still cherishes the memory of your expression, keeping it in the back of his mind and musing over it in private.
If you had known he was holding that over you, you would have thrown a slew of unpretty words at him with that pretty voice of yours, and he would have cherished them the same way he does with all of your works.
Whenever Phainon hears that your most recent novel has been released, he is one of the first to scour for it, reading it from start to finish within days. Even your publications from years before have a place on his shelves, there is no book of yours that he has not purchased and proceeded to read from front to back.
He insists on meeting you whenever he can, and while you answer a question he asked, he’s trying to keep his marvelling to a minimum, trying to keep these feelings from spilling all over you as he lets you know that his undivided attention is on you.
You’re skeptical of him. You wonder why he seeks your companionship specifically, what about you entertained him enough to invite you on market walks, buy your favourite drink from your favourite stall, and then sit on a marble bench in a quiet park underneath falling leaves.
As you’re busy pondering, he jolts whenever your thigh brushes against his.
The Chrysos Heir is in love.
His favourite time to admire you is when you’re deep in thought and unaware of the world around you, too focused on the wax tablet that sits on your desk.
Despite the practicality of papers, you tell him you like the sensation of writing on wax, how your pen glides along, all of your bursts of inspiration occur like this, so they hold a dear place in your heart. Soft chatter is exchanged, he tells you about his day, you share some idle musings about yours, then you let him know of the most recent developments of your work before he lets you write in peace.
Phainon tries not to stare too much, knows it’s unbecoming to do so, but he can’t help letting his eyes linger on you as your hand scrawls, occasionally taking a break here and there but never letting the train of thought end without it being recorded.
He could watch forever. He could be here forever, sitting in a comfortable chaise in the corner of your study, rendering himself invisible in your periphery as he just gets to exist with you.
The Chrysos Heir is in love.
It’s not widely known, perhaps less than a handful of people know, and it’s not because he has confessed it to them outright, but because they have caught on to the subtleties.
The company he surrounds himself with knows well enough about the scholar that has caught his heart, and how he refuses to run away. They give him teasing looks now and then whenever the prospect of romance and love is raised, and glance specifically at the light-haired when your name is mentioned in passing, not wanting to miss the softening of his bright gaze.
It’s even more entertaining because you are not aware of it.
You are not aware of Phainon’s awestruck eyes whenever he looks at you, how he leans closer whenever you speak, desperate to close the gap however he can. You are not aware of how he speaks your name so gently, as if wanting the wind to take the words away and to you so that no one else may hear. You are not aware of the little world Phainon lives in where it’s just you and him, existing together.
The rest of the Chrysos Heir hound after him relentlessly when they first discovered of your ignorance to his feelings, and now they make it their life mission to make fun of him for it, especially before you.
Phainon does not mind, well- tries not to, because he is in love.
As infuriating it is that you haven’t caught on, despite your immense intelligence, he waits patiently for the day you will.
Even though he yearns to declare it from the highest point of Amphoreus, that his very being has been seized by you, he is content with the quiet moments you share now, and he will happily take all that you give him, even if he wants more.
Phainon is in love.
© EARTHTOOZ 2025, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
THEIR SCREAMSNDJJEFKEJSHFKK
Badboy!Jaehyun AU x Reader
Social Media AU
Masterlist
prev / next
Summary: you never passed up the chance to get in the good books of all your teachers. So when the opportunity arised to possibly make your chemistry teacher actually like you, seeing as he was the only one that seemed to have it in for you, you couldn’t say no. Only problem? You had to tutor the bad boy.
Hyunjin appreciation!!!!
RB if you love hyunjin
❤❤ ❤❤
❤💓💓❤💓💓❤
❤💓💓💓💓💓❤
❤💓💓💓❤
❤💓❤
❤
★ 【アバンドン蘭花】 「 7/20 」 ☆ ✔ republished w/permission ⊳ ⊳ follow me on instagram
| CN server — Date released: 9/29 ⏳
| Luke SSR:
| Artem SSR:
| Vyn SSR:
| Marius SSR:
(feel free to use<3 i literally cried through these, but 6th, 7th, 8th prompt just--made me bawl.) (tag me when yall writeee)
"you look like a flower, the prettiest one."
touching foreheads in a hug :(
not being able to contain a smile around them
searching for them in the crowd, and they're looking right at you with the fondest of smiles
"when you are tired, love, lean on me." "and when you are?" "I'll find comfort in your arms :)"
the hands that tug a little bit closer in a hug, a little bit of both hearts spilling into the same sink, a love that spills
that gaze--tired, soft, their thumb gently rubbing your cheek, noses touching, silently mumbling an "i love you"
feeling so much yet having no words to describe all of it :/ (at times like these, actions speaks so much!!)
when they're tired and they bury their face deeper into your crook in a hug :(((
braiding their hair. making them wear cute clips >\\<
gives you random small but thoughtful gifts
noticing your lover's small habits (like how they smirk when they're proud, how they tilt their head in confusion, how they smile when they're shy)
they tickle you and you fall on your bed, laughing. they stop midway, grinning, "your laugh. oh my god!!" followed by more tickle attacks<3333
head pats !
they get shy when you compliment them in public!
LOVE YOU WITH MY EYES CLOSED
Thomas Shelby x Reader
Part one Part two Part three
Summary: At a young age Y/N was given away for marriage, years later the dust began to settle and her life caught a rhythm she stopped fighting. Is Tommy, the man she once knew too well, ready to play along and let her go once again?
Word count: 2.9k
Warnings: depression, heartache, mental and physical abuse
A/N: Slow introduction, next chapter will pick up on pace. Enjoy
Coming back to Birmingham ignited more mixed feelings than Y/N expected it ever would. Pushing through the difficult changes back in the day caused her to stomach so much pain and.. distress at the inability to make her own choices. She thought there was nothing in her to cause fear anymore.
A weird kind of fear it was, this time. Looking out the window as the train plummeted through the fields, shaking and groaning under the weight of people all heading to the city she couldn't shake off. Four years passed so quickly, in a pace she didn't understand when she looked back at the first months of constant struggle she endured. Leaving everything behind. Becoming nothing more than a tool to life of.. prosperity for her family.
She fought it for so long, back then. Much to her father's misunderstanding, her unbreakable spirit made everything so much more difficult.
Yet eventually everything must come to an end though, in a reality where her value was tightly connected with how pretty she was, and how aesthetically pleasing she looked, hanging on the arm of a man she barely knew.
It was much easier to ignore from the distance, but the closer she got to Birmingham, more wounds began reopening, hurting and itching despite her neutral expression and unmoving figure.
One of his hands rested on her thigh, the other one holding a newspaper. The lack of communication was nothing short of normal between them. After all, when nobody was around, they didn't have to pretend as much. Nickolas Winterbourne, a man coming from a life where nothing ever ran out, where pantries were never empty and clothes never dirty. He existed in a controlled environment snuggly clothed in money at every corner, shielding him from any difficulties life planned to throw his way - unaffected by the simple disdain of modern times they happened to live in.
For what it was worth, Y/N considered herself lucky. He was… polite, usually gentle which was way more than she could have ever asked for from people in his social class. His hands were smooth, untainted by physical labour that he never had to do. His disposition contradicted his father's, a man purely self-absorbed and cruel with one purpose – wealth.
Y/N was grateful for the person he was deep down, even though he was forcing her into situations they could avoid, yet rarely violating her physically or mentally.
Nickolas was… indifferent. His demeanour calm, collected and bordering on bored most of the time. His eyes looked at her with a never ending patience and neutrality she grew to appreciate, after watching the way many of his brothers treated their own wives. She was lucky.
The mindset she worked so hard to build, throwing away the values she dreamed of as a little girl, the warm dreams of having a loving marriage with several kids, conversations that would seem to go on forever sprinkled with tender kisses on the forehead and warm touches that would warm her up on cold nights. She exchanged those hopes for expensive dresses and a mansion much too big for any amount of wood to warm. There were continual expensive dinners and meaningless conversations with people she wouldn't care to see ever again with fake seemingly polite smiles. These people never stopped beckoning for their service, acting like the simple action of pouring themselves tea was too much to burden their minds with.
So she was grateful, playing along with the quick pace of life they had. Dressing up quickly, perfecting the empty smile she got used to wearing on a daily basis.
“Be grateful, because you could have had it much worse” she mentally repeated to herself.
A soft squeeze of his hand tore her out of her thoughts, his brown eyes watching her patiently. He witnessed the difficulties she struggled with back then. So her silence rang louder than ever.
”We will spend two days in Birmingham and be back on our way. Tomorrow is the day of the gala, and the day after you will spend on your own matters.” He spoke quietly, reading the troubling emotions in her eyes. He always saw through the mask of neutrality he taught her how to wear like her second skin: a mutual understanding.
Her eyes slowly followed along the lines of his face, finally settling on holding eye contact. Slowly nodding, she covered his hand with her own before forcing out a small smile.
”Thank you” She responded, straightening her back before the train started slowing down before coming to a full stop.
Patting her thigh for the last time, he pulled away.
”Come on. It's time to go”
~~
After getting out of the train, Y/N watched how after stepping out her boots immediately covered in mud.
Some things never changed, she thought with a smile as the scent of smoke filled her nostrils.
”Christ” Nickolas muttered, his face twisting in disgust. Birmingham was nothing like the London they were used to, first expression of the city obnoxiously underwhelming for Winterbourne.
Standing by the road sign they waited for a moment before the designated car pulled up, halting by their feet as the driver opened the door, offering to help in packing the luggage.
Y/N seemed distraught, looking around as she immediately recognized the streets despite small differences and the fact she didn't leave even remotely close back then. A city centre it was, fair distance from Small Heath. A place she used to call home.
”Come on, get in the car” Nickolas whispered, noticing her distracted gaze, grabbing her arm lightly and nudging her towards the vehicle, bringing her out of memories thick like smoke. Looking at him she nodded, obediently getting inside before the car took them to the hotel.
One she had never been in before. This whole situation felt suffocating in ways so weird, she was barely able to look him in the eyes. Even as they moved to the building, getting all the formalities done she couldn't help but let her mind wander towards the ghosts of her past.
Loud, obnoxious laugh filled her head bringing a little smile on her red lips. One that definitely belonged to John, his eyes glimmering with mischief like most of the time. Through the eyes of imagination she saw Ada's long, dark hair she constantly complained about, sighing dramatically in a way that never ceased to make Y/N roll her eyes. Suffering from success, she used to call it, teasing her friend with whom she grew up so close.
A sound came to her ears as lift brought them to the right level, she moved seemingly on an autopilot when her husband fumbled with keys, looking for the right one.
As the door swung open she let out a silent sigh as she remembered. The memory she worked on suppressing so long caught up randomly, big, blue eyes surrounded by thick, dark eyelashes. Colour so dynamic, swiftly changing with the feeling simmering beneath his tough exterior, yet always so bright and clear when he looked at her. She felt like she saw him for the first time, despite it being nothing but her exterior shell shattering at the unwanted memories flooding back in.
Suddenly, she felt out of breath and barely an hour after checking into the hotel, she was in bed facing away from Nickolas. The wall she put up between them nearing the height of one he tried to shatter after getting to know the girl. She seemed so small as she lay on her side, every inch of her body hidden under covers. Hair scattered on the pillow, keeping his gaze away from her features.
They just got here, and he was already losing, Nickolas thought, before remembering the small detail that could shatter his reality if ease if looked into.
”Goodnight” He whispered, pressing a kiss onto her shoulder before turning away and giving her space as the lights went out.
It was only so long he could bend reality to his will, he thought, before closing his eyes and allowing Morpheus' embrace to swallow him up.
In contrast to him, Y/N didn't fall asleep once. The unknown anticipation swirled around in her stomach, pushing her even further away from the man sleeping by her side. Something was coming, and she knew it.
~~
”Do you really trust what you're saying?” Her voice came to his ears, quieter, less confident than usually she'd speak to him.
Leaning forward on his arms, he let his head drop in defeat for a moment before lifting him up. Strong, unyielding gaze meeting her worried, slightly anxious eyes.
Her position in the family and in company made her learn how to deal with emotions on her own for years.. which was never an issue. Woman could only be so vulnerable after raising that many kids and protecting them from the disgusting reality with her fragile hands and soul on her shoulder. But she managed.
So the rare vulnerability she displayed that evening, looking in her nephew's eyes was nothing short of special. The string of responsibility connecting them in ways none of his siblings would understand.
Staring blankly for a moment, he ended up nodding.
”I know, Polly.” He spoke up, his voice heavy with exhaustion and the fear he tried to bury somewhere between his ribs, to never be seen again. But it was there, alive as ever, making his heart thump in an unnatural rhythm. Reminding him of one of survival. Desperate attempts to stick to life even when the dirty earth in the tunnels tried to swallow him alive.
”You need to trust me when I say things will go back to normal. I waited for long enough.” His voice came out sharper than he'd like it to. Blue eyes soothing the damage his voice has done and Polly understood.
Being a witness to the struggles he faced on daily, responsibilities piling on him like layers of clothing, giving no space to grieve the loss of someone who was never supposed to be gone.
…and so he didn't. Instead building an empire on his bitterness and pain, trusting that… whatever was up there would provide if it was meant to be.
That day for once in his life Thomas wanted to pray.
~~
“You need to pick up your pace, Y/N. We can't afford to be late to such an event.” Nickolas snapped, his usually calm and collected demeanour dishevelled with stress as he watched time ticking away on his watch.
She didn't sleep, almost at all. Putting on the mask was more difficult than usual, having to layer the makeup on her tired face, exhausted eyes. The years of struggles managed to catch up in the nine hours she spent on trying to fall asleep. Dreamless nights and loveless days connected with the anticipation in her stomach making it impossible to close her eyes.
”What will they think of us if we show up late, Y/N?” He shot once again watching her movements with his chin higher than he usually carried.
In moments of distress Y/N saw his father in him, usually perfectly hidden away lack of spine showing through the wounds of what the perfect life did to him. Minor inconvenience making him furious.
”Put on your jacket and smoke a cigarette, Nickolas. By the time you're done I will be waiting.” She responded in a neutral way, already taught to not feed into his bitterness in such situations. Not because he was right, but rather to avoid making him cranky as he would surely ruin her already difficult evening.
Watching her with contempt for a moment, he let out a heavy breath before stepping away.
”Five minutes or you will walk there. I'm not going to be late because of your irresponsibility.” His voice faded with the distance growing between them.
Y/N sighed looking at her reflection.
A man that was never supposed to be a husband.
All eyes were on them as soon as they arrived. Y/N smiled, nodding along to the people she saw for the first time as they spoke to Nickolas. She was to not speak unless spoken to, Mr. Winterbourne taught her four years ago. Smile, look pretty and watch your husband. Be attentive and elegant at all times.
Entering the event took them about fifteen minutes with all the pleasantries Nick kept giving away to his associates. Deep down she hated it. The constant need to pretend, not a single movement one of her own.
”Mr. Winterbourne!” A voice came from behind their back as they walked into the main room. An older man with jet-black hair approached quickly, his arm wrapped around the waist of his wife. Glancing at her, they exchanged a joyful look before standing right by Y/N. “Long time no see” His voice was low, but not threatening. Something about the tall and broad man was inviting, friendly.
”Indeed, it's been a long while.” Nick responded, straightening his back before greeting the older woman, getting a hold of her hand gently and kissing the temple. ”How is life treating you, Sir?” His tone mannered and calm, just like always whenever he was in a public eye. After getting a response, he began talking about the details of the gala before the woman suddenly interrupted him.
”...and who is this beautiful woman?” She spoke completely relaxed to which Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. If she interrupted her husband or any man he was currently talking to in such a manner, she'd get severely punished if not slapped at the spot. Nicholas raised his eyebrow but quickly put on a collected exterior again.
”This is my wife, Y/N” He introduced her, slightly embarrassed that he forgot to do so in the first place. What would they think of him? The older man reflected, kissing her temple with a smile and his wife took her hand in her own.
”Oh, I see” She said, looking at the ring on her finger. ”Absolutely beautiful, how about we get something to drink while men talk about the important matters?” She suggested light-heartedly, winking at her husband who chuckled, shaking his head before giving a simple nod.
”Great idea. I will find you in just a few moments, Precious.”
The way their interactions took place made Y/N truly shocked, she's never seen such behaviour among people in their class before. Were people of Birmingham different than them?
Waiting for his approval obediently Y/N only moved when he gave her a stern nod, clearly not pleased with his own performance, yet he would never admit it.
His behaviour was different this time, she could clearly see it. He was more emotional in the wrong way, every little detail making him visibly angry.
”I’m Meredith” The seemingly fourty year old woman stated, glancing at Y/N sideways. ”You seem to love these kind of events, don't you?” She joked, seeing the way Y/N’s smile dropped as soon as they turned away from their husbands. Internally she panicked hearing the elegant woman's remark, her eyes widening with fear. ”Oh, no worries. We're on the same page… besides. They serve really good drinks, so soon enough it will be bearable.” The tone of her voice was light and amusing as she gave Y/N a little shove. Her demeanor was relaxed and open, matching her husband's which was… refreshing.
”Better get to it then” She mustered a smile in response.
To be fair, time did start passing faster as they settled by the table, slowly sipping on tasteful drinks and talking in a way that allowed Y/N feel much less comfortable than she was at first. A breath of fresh air.
”We’re local. My husband, Christopher, is the owner of several businesses passed down through the family. That's how he knows Winterbournes.” She explained eventually before leaning in closer. ”He doesn't get along well with your father in law. Tradition and peace are the only things keeping them tied together.”
Y/N listened carefully, appreciating that after a couple drinks Meredith's tongue got a bit loose. Usually she'd never hear a single detail about her husband's business or family. She wasn't family by blood, so her access to information was very restricted.
Getting lost in her thoughts again she zoned out for a second before Nickolas’ voice came to her ear from close proximity.
”This is my wife, Y/N Winterbourne.” He introduced her and it took a second to stand up, smooth out her dress before her eyes met the guests.
…and just for a second, her heart stopped, mouth slightly parting as she met the blue gaze she dreamed of for so many years.
”May we dance, Mrs. Winterbourne?” Thomas Shelby asked, standing side to side with her husband. Slightly shorter yet visibly towering over him.
For once she forgot her manners, not able to tear her eyes away from him as she gave a quick nod and without another word, he grabbed her hand pulling her towards the dance floor among other couples. Completely stiff and frozen, her vocal chords were not cooperating as she was on the verge of a panic attack.
His hands grabbed her own, setting them on his shoulders as he pulled her closer.
”Breathe” He said quietly in a husky tone as his scent almost made her faint.
hello! i really love your works and i'd like to request a royalty rivals to lovers type of short story perhaps? like between 2 kingdom leaders or something :3
Ofc! There are three things I love in characters- princes, pirates, and villains. I’ll never say no to the chance to write any of them! I can’t quite do the full rivals to lovers in a snippet, so I’ll write them juuuust on the cuff >:)
~~~~~
Character A glared at Character B as they entered the banquet hall with a flourish. Sat on their throne, they had an excellent view of the several hundred people in attendance, the herald announcing their (annoyingly late) arrival, and every inch of Character B.
They really shouldn’t, couldn’t be this annoyed. They’d invited Character B after all, in a shallow attempt to ease relations. They’d expected a kind rejection and a return offer that Character A would reject just as easily. They hadn’t expected for them to actually show up.
It was exhausting.
Character B smirked at them, walking easily up the aisle the crowd had made to take their seat next to Character A. Character A noted, with an annoyed hint, that they’d sat on their right. The place that would’ve been reserved for their spouse, had they been married.
“Lovely party, dear. I can almost see why you aren’t enjoying it in the slightest.” Character B mused, setting a hand on their wrist lightly.
They jerked it away. “You’re late. You’re making a scene.”
“And now your courtiers have something better to talk about than your latest scandal. You’re welcome.”
Had that really- “You heard about that?!” They whispered urgently. “Did it-“
“Relax, darling. My court’s heard nothing of it. Did you think I don’t have ears here?”
Character A forced themself to settle their expression. They couldn’t let Character B see that they were a fish out of water.
“Ah, of course. You’ve never had an instinct for deception, have you? Don’t worry. I’ll pretend not to notice when you send yours in two weeks. It’s only fair.”
Character A’s annoyance burned. “Can you go anywhere without being obnoxious?”
Character B gave them a look. “Everyone but you seems to find me charming, darling.” Their expression turned weary for just a moment. “It’s exhausting.”
“Is that why you’re so obsessed with me? Because I’m the only one who isn’t fawning over you?”
Character B kept their gaze forward. “Yes.”
“What?”
“You’re the only one who behaves like a normal person around me. I said it was exhausting, didn’t I?”
Well. That changed things.