(Requested by Isolation_101. Gender neutral.)
Tord's POV
In this London that I created, the world was perfect. But, the people are less so. I can count as many as 5 million people in this city who were scoundrels. Thinking I'll just get bored and drop the power to the dogs called the old British monarchy. Yet, at least one person in this city was perfect. Perfect for me.
(H/c) hair that floats in the London breeze like waves on the North Sea. Their (e/c) eyes shine like miniature Northern Lights that were plucked from Norway's most beautiful nights. Their soft, lovely skin covered in (f/c) and (2/f/c) clothing. I would watch them from my balcony in Buckingham Palace. You heard me. I took over London, I should get a 'sweet crib', or whatever you misguided teens say. This particularly chilly November morning was when I looked out my window to find the most perfect person in London, (Y/N). On their daily stroll, I see. They didn't do that before I took over.
I took an extra second to prioritize the safe and happy travel of (Y/N), their black boots crunching the snow into footprints. I sigh in joy as they turn the corner safely. I have never been more happy to see one person so safe. Well, besides Edd. I do miss him. Tears form in the corners of my eyes, yet I wipe them away. I have a London to run.
(Y/N)'s POV
Why is this perverted, manipulating, cold-blooded beast watching me!? He always does this. Though, despite my enraged tone, I don't mean what I say. His caramel hair would feel so feathery against my fingers. His soft gray eyes can melt my heart like pollution melts the ice caps. Slowly, surely, and when people aren't cooing that they know what's happening, they are laughing with me that it's not real.
Just like global warming, but more beautiful.
I got home, the only harm to me being my favorite (f/c) scarf being covered in snow and leaves. I drop my things before heading over to the TV. My couch's warm seats are beyond welcome to my cold skin and jeans. I click the news on, to be awed by what I saw. Red Leader was on TV, claiming that he'll be taking on a prince or princess. He will pick his favorite out of 300 men and women that enter. Being the excitable, love sick puppy I am, I run to get my things. People can enter to be crowned at Red Army Base, where all polls and elections are held.
I arrived at the base, only to freeze. Across the room was Red Leader. My face burned red as I inched closer to the people in line. I didn't want him to spot me amongst the crowd of cocky and optimistic young women with make-up, dresses, and little tiaras. Besides, the look on Red Leader's face was plain to see; he was near disgusted by all the desperate prom queens. Luckily, I only dressed in a new, clean hoodie and jeans. I might've been criticised, but I don't care.
If I'm picked, it won't be because of my looks. They will love me. My spunk, my authority, my compassion, but most of all - my isolation from my feelings. Yes, I love Red Leader, but he might not love me. So, I treat him like garbage so I won't feel like garbage if he rejects me. The line moves like a gentle stream and I follow hesitantly. I felt like Red Leader knew I was here, with the way he glances over the crowd like a hungry hawk.
Like a hungry hawk, he finds his prey and attacks. From across the room, he found me. His gray eyes turned a violent silver as he prowled close to me. He took his time, because he didn't have to rush. I was frozen to the spot by his increasingly soft gaze.
He stood over me. He definitely gave off that 'authority' vibe. He was tall and powerful, his muscular body intimidating me. His eyes were like tiny silver coins, shimmering and tempting. Greed flowed over my senses as I watched him smile at me. I will make him mine.
"Quite the surprise you would show up, (Y/N)," he purrs. His accent hooks me in, making my face turn red. I silently wonder how he knew my name...?
"What's that supposed to mean?" I hiss. I can't show my true intent to him. It'll make me seem desperate. It'll hurt me more if he chooses a more attractive heir. He chuckles as he smiles. He tilts my face towards his with his finger. I could feel how soft and gentle his hands were.
"It's supposed to mean, Kitten, that you are quiet fiery. I didn't expect you to come here. I mean, the only reasons you could be here are to partake in my contest or to observe it. Both are signs of even a little care of my rule," he chimes. I swear, if only his sweet words could get me drunk. I needed a drink.
"Alright, Sir, say I did care about you and your fantasy politics. Why does that mean about me?"
"It means you except that I rule you," he growls dominantly. It sets my heart aflame. This man was trying to lure me in, huh? Too bad I won't be easily swayed. "Alright, Mr. Hotshot. I'm entering the contest. But, it doesn't mean I like you,"
His growing grin leers over me. "We'll see about that, Kitten."
Tord's POV
I smirk as (Y/N) weaves away from me, into the sea of wanna-bes. Of course, they'll win. They were the apple of my eye ever since the day we met. Though, a coronation is not the best of places to fall in love. I mean, has anyone ever watched Frozen? I have, I mean, it takes place in Norway, for God's sake.
Nonetheless, their bright smile reassured me that they were going to win. And I would not regret it for a trillion years. I weaved through the crowd. Many of the hormonal girls were gawking at me. I'm the leader of a communist army, of course I'll have some muscle and height to my advantage.
(Time Skip)
"My new heir will be..." I speak clearly. My accent bounces off the walls, making all the hopefully girls squeal. I look straight at (Y/N) and softly smile. Their fingers were crossed, and they were biting their bottom lip. I smile as I raise my head to address the crowd.
"(Y/N) (L/N)!"
If I had a dollar from every heartbroken person in this room, I could buy that really expensive shotgun I saw online. I chuckle as one shriek of joy split the groans and cries of saddened gay boys and hetro girls. (Y/N)'s (e/c) eyes shimmer as I take their hand when they get on stage. I kiss the back of their hand and they blush. I smile at them, then the crowd.
"You should have worked harder," I say sarcastically. All of a sudden, an American girl with long, wavy hair screeches from the crowd.
"You mooches!"
(Invader Zim reference, anyone?)
YOU ARE READING
Eddsworld Oneshots - Lovely Little Demons (Eddsworld X Abnormal! Reader)
أدب الهواةCover art by me, Biscuit19131 This book has oneshots for anyone and everyone. I am so sorry, this was made when I was 11-12, I'm suffering as much as you are. P.S. This whole thing is PG-13, there is swearing and some mentions of violence, but tha...
