#I NEED TO SAVE YOU FROM THE PAIN (and the violence tho) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nyctoseraph · 27 days ago

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I SUDDENLY TRANSMIGRATED TO A BLOODY THRONE WAR NOVEL AND I CAN’T GO BACK!

Yandere Crown Prince Phainon x Fem Transmigrated Reader

WARNINGS: obsessive and manipulative behaviors, depictions of violence, blood, slight gore, death of minor characters, non-consensual affection, phainon is delusional, parallels to amphoreus' storyline which can be considered as spoilers. YANDERE/DARK CONTENT AHEAD, PROCEED WITH CAUTION. 11.2k words.

ALSO CONTAINS: Isekai/transmigration themes.

One of these days I’m gonna put myself on a silver platter and serve it to Phainon.

You typed in your phone, gushing to your friend about the new update from the novel both of you had been following lately.

The Era Nova. An action-thriller novel about a charming crown prince thrust into a bloody game of court and throne. The story follows how Phainon, the crown prince with a golden heart, will navigate the dangers of the messy palace life, and how he shall succeed to finally become the emperor of the kingdom.

You were absolutely smitten with Phainon. First and foremost, the author surely did their best job at hiring good artists for the illustrations, because damn did they make justice of the ‘charming and handsome’ part of Phainon's character. Secondly, the gripping scenes of Phainon finally seizing the power from his enemies might've done something to your brain.

[Blue eyes suddenly flashed golden as he raises his sword and lays waste inside the throne room. What used to be regal figures now lie like broken statues, the red on their backs bleed farther than their capes.

Ascending from the blood of past kings, the new emperor, Phainon, has arrived.]

The words of the novel still stuck to your mind like glue, are you wrong for thinking that scene is just,

So hot?

phainon looked so YUMMY in the ending scene like the mask and cloak??? hmmm yes, and he makes even blood look good. wtf ur so real for that tho, but the ending's kinda sad don't you think? he'll be left alone in the palace far away from his people oh-

Maybe it's the way Phainon’s character is brought into the story, but he's this kind-hearted prince who transformed into an imposing ruler. The way his character hardened and developed pulled in your heartstrings. He brings conflict to your emotions, on how you loved his radiant and princely side, but at the same time is swept off your feet by his blinding majesty.

Must be the reason why you loved reading this novel. It seems that the author did a great job of stringing you, the reader, into Phainon's emotions and inner world. It makes you wish for the success of his plans in the story, but it also pains you to see him change as a price.

affected by literal fucking words and pixels, please save me from era nova, why can't i just pick a fav and go??? why do i also have to feel for them like please leave me alone he just wanted to be an appraiser and live normally with his people, why'd they have to do him like that ikr, like noooo phainon my sweet baby :( he succeeded but at what cost? :((((

Phainon ascends to the throne, the end. You saw this coming from a mile away, but actually seeing something that's been a part of your daily life for months finally concluding did hurt you a bit. There's a pang of emptiness, ah, the feeling of finishing a book and never hearing from that world again.

Sucks.

You'll probably get over it and find a new thing to fixate on soon, but for now you'll lament Phainon’s fate and think about the damn novel for a few more hours.

well becoming an emperor so suddenly sounds kinda lonely so if he needs a princess by his side im just here 🙏 girl, you'll die from the court shenanigans alone lol oof yeah u right [are you willing to do that?] fuck yeah lol, all in for PHAINON [heh, come here then] ??? it's 4am rn tho

Don't wanna go out yet. You're supposed to type, but suddenly you felt the most splitting headache you ever had the misfortune to feel. Your vision goes blurry and suddenly, everything's so dark.

★

You woke up to the fluttering of soft…lace?

Opening your eyes, you are faced with the soft swishing of the lacy fabric hanging up on the bedposts. The fabric dancing in the air caresses your face, the gentle touch of lace rouses you further from sleep. Wait, bedposts?

Realizing the anomaly in your room, you stood up. Well, tried to do so. Because your head suddenly feels like it's groaning in pain and so do you.

“Oh no miss! Don't stand up too fast, your head injuries might worsen!”

A brown-haired lady wearing a black dress with white apron suddenly ushers towards you. Her face is frowning, filled with as much worry as her frantic voice has.

White apron… like a maid outfit.

You stilled, brain churning for the last bits of the previous night. For one, you are texting your friend about Era Nova, second is that they asked you to ‘come to them’ at such an ungodly hour, and then… and then what?

“Master! The lady has awoken!”

What happened last night?

Your head suddenly throbs in pain again, it's akin to a migraine that suddenly surprises you when you least expect it. The difference though from an ordinary migraine is that this one seems to carry something.

A lot of things, memories to be exact, actually.

You are the only daughter of the count of this area. You are currently in your estate at Okhema, and that you had a bad fall at… some market?

More and more flooded to your head, some crystal clear memories and some are fuzzy, something bathed in yellowing lights — childhood memories. It doesn't clear itself though, as if it's decided that those are not of importance.

“My daughter… how do you feel?”

A voice interrupts your train of thoughts. There enters a man seemingly in his late forties. He's wearing clothes that seem to be out of a theater play you watched back then. His tall stature exudes elegance, something out of a regency drama.

Where are you exactly?

You didn't speak, mind running in different directions, different explanations and reasonings for whatever absurdity you are currently in as of now. Are you kidnapped? Did you get drunk last night and wandered to a TV set? Why would they play along then if that's the case? Is this a new, untapped-by-science side effect of combined lack of sleep and caffeine overdose?

All of your hypothesis sounds like it was spoken by insanity itself. Why would this happen? Is this real? Dozens of questions floated around your mind until it was cleared away by the same voice.

“My dearest, we have investigated the entirety of Marmoreal market and found no signs of the carriage that hit you. I'm deeply sorry for this news, but don't worry, father is not going to stop looking for…”

Your ‘father’s’ voice droned in and out of your ear, his words seem to be mixing and swirling into your senses.

Except for one.

Marmoreal. Then you also remembered one of the information bits that flooded to your brain, Okhema. You were so distraught earlier that you didn't process the memories itself, the familiar places and names suddenly makes sense, finally tracing back to their origin.

The Era Nova.

Marmoreal is the center of Okhema’s trade, a place where half of the story convenes because Phainon frequents this place so much. The kingdom that hailed him as one of their crown princes is Okhema.

Maybe it was really insanity who penned these events unfolding to you right now.

“Master, excuse my interruption, but my lady seems to be in great pain earlier, she may not be ready for that conversation,” The woman who you first saw when you woke up warily said to the man beside you. In your memories, she is your lady in waiting.

“Right, of course, please take care of her and make sure she rests.”

The man leaves, the brown haired maid follows, telling you that she's going to fetch you soup and medicine.

Left alone in your thoughts, you only can look outside the window. Behind the branch where two songbirds are perched, singing a duet — lies the Marmoreal Palace, in front of your very own eyes.

Insanity, yes, this must be insanity.

There's no fucking way you just got isekai’d in your favorite novel.

★

Of all the things to read before your isekai trip, it had to be this dramatic thriller of a genre.

You sluggishly stood up after your maid left you with the soup and medicine. You walked towards an ornate mirror, something that looks like it belongs to a museum, not in a home.

With that in mind, you found out two things.

First is that your family is rich. Second is that despite being transmigrated into a fantasy, kingdom-themed novel, you still looked the same.

Yes, unfortunately, no waking up in the body of a pink-haired maiden with flawless skin and plump lips.

At least you're rich, right?

“Man, I wanna know what it feels like to have natural pink hair.” You sighed in front of your mirror. You do look a bit more radiant at least, as if you finally scrounged enough money to contact a dermatologist and do something about your eyebags.

Yes, yes, it might seem like you were just put on a dress for some play but at least your face looks clearer. A win is a win.

Going back, you repeatedly consider your family’s status. Rich and has a stable business? Then it is perfect. An unspoken rule in the isekai world is that, peace comes from not fucking around with the plot. It seems that you're in a lineage of businessmen, not royalty, so there's no reason for you to get tangled up in the bloody ‘court games’ that Era Nova is all about.

Gotta thank the plot for giving you some background on who you are in the story at least. Still, you've opted for pretending that you lost some of your memories, much to your family's horror — so that asking painfully obvious questions in case you forget something isn't too strange.

That, and also because you've seen this in many transmigration novels that you wanted to try it.

You probably should've stuck to something along the lines of romance or slice-of-life novels instead if you knew that this is going to happen.

All feels surreal, you never expected to experience being sent into the world of a novel. You thought isekai is just a fantasy genre you only read.

But alas, you're here now. There's no cameras or crew members revealing you're in a prank, a show, or something. It's been too long for that.

★

Crazy thought, but what if I try finding Phainon?

You suddenly think while you're in the bath, a pair of maids helping you scrub your body. It's been a few days since you got here. You did your best in adjusting, using the memories that were given to you and the books which, luckily, you can understand and read.

It also helps that you're proficient about The Era Nova back in the real world. You've been into forums and posts discussing the plot and the worldbuilding of this work. Save for the more innate traditions and customs, your knowledge about the events and how this kingdom came to be is more than enough for you to navigate in your daily life here.

In fact, you might be too proficient, because your butler let out a stray comment telling you that you have the potential to be a historian in the academy.

Your earlier thought about finding Phainon resurfaced again. Now that you think about it properly, it seems to be the stupidest idea you've made as of now.

No, no! Do not get involved with Phainon, he's the most direct, one-way ticket to the plot.

You didn't think further, instead you relaxed into the bath.

★

Thankfully, you have recovered. You think it's because your brain finally conjured all the memories it needed, hence your headaches had finally stopped.

Your father now also reluctantly lets you go outside again, but he strictly advises you to be careful, a long spiel of reminders and shoving at least two knights with you everywhere you go.

Wow, your family had knights.

Today, you're heading to the Marmoreal Market, where you're supposed to have been run over by a carriage before. You shivered at the thought, although nothing concrete came into mind when you tried remembering it.

Maybe it's mercy, who wants to remember that kind of pain?

Your carriage moves along the cobblestones. Estates, parks, ornate fountains and rows of wooden stalls pass by your window. Straight out of a fairytale kingdom. You couldn't believe your eyes, your heart was pounding. It's real, you're really here.

You only went out to have a closer look at the world you got thrown into. You knew what it's like in the novel, but seeing it in person is a whole ‘nother experience that cannot be replicated.

Today, you're going to investigate, but you guess it wouldn't hurt to explore Okhema too.

★

It's unfortunate that you only have two feet and can only go in a single direction at a time when the Marmoreal Market has a dozen pathways and shops calling your attention.

It's vastly different from the real world, that's for sure.

The colorful tapestries draped into the rooftops of each store weave a grand picture to your eyes. The goods displayed felt magical, even what's supposed to be simple bread sold in the west area looks like it's glazed in gold and the dresses hanging in the southern part all have intricate stitching that make the fabric feel alive.

Your eyes are twinkling in wonder. It felt like you were a kid again in an amusement park, the excitement on each turn of your head palpable. You took advantage of your sizable allowance and picked pastries and trinkets that interest you, those that seem otherworldly that you'll probably never see again once you go back.

Right, what about going back to the real world?

Magic exists in the story of The Era Nova. One of the shops here sells magical items. It's your main objective for the day. The concept of other worlds could still be seen as strange, but it's worth a shot, you think.

When you finally reach the shop, it's unassuming at first, only a crooked wooden signage and an old wind chime greet you when you lay your eyes on its facade, but what's inside is completely different.

Rows and rows of shelves filled with various jars and knick-knacks welcomed you. It's like you stepped into the set of Alice in Wonderland. The line of shelves leads to a counter, a single woman faces you, her little corner filled with hanging plants and more trinkets.

The woman on the counter only stares at you. At first you think it's strange, but remembering that you're inside a novel cuts off that thought. Maybe it's normal here. In most novels, characters that have to do something with magic tend to be a bit mysterious and quirky anyway.

You continued browsing, eyes looking for strange artifacts that could be connected to how you can go home. It feels like a shot in the dark as you have no idea what could be considered ‘a strange artifact’ because all of these things are foreign to you.

As you collect your courage to just straight up ask the bizarre questions of ‘portals’ and ‘other worlds’ to the woman on the counter, a flicker catches your attention.

A hand mirror, it's embellished with small golden suns and silver moons on its frame. The handle is just the same, with a bigger sun and moon eclipsing at the center.

But the design isn't what catches your attention, it's what's within the mirror itself. Because instead of reflecting the shop’s interior — it's reflecting the inside of your real world bedroom instead.

You nearly jumped towards the glass display it's being held in. The woman on the counter stares at you before giving a somewhat pitied look.

“It's a great piece, but unfortunately that's reserved for a special customer.”

Your heart drops at her statement. No, no way, this could be the key to going home. You're going to have this one, even if you have to put trade offers that are disadvantageous to you. As you were about to open your mouth to argue, you were interrupted by a chime.

“Lord Phainon, are you here for your reservation?”

“Yes, thank you for keeping it for me.” A man — no Phainon, walks into the counter. If your heart dropped earlier, it's now currently digging itself lower than the ground. Of all people, it just had to be him.

The woman walks past you and into the glass display. She grabs the mirror and heads into a door hidden by plants. This leaves you awkwardly standing beside the Phainon.

“It's rare to see other customers here, I'm starting to think that I’m the only one who knows of this place honestly,” Phainon casually starts off. You shouldn't be surprised at his friendly demeanor as you've read about it a thousand times already, but that friendliness directed to you makes your heart race at a dizzying speed.

Snow-white hair that's slightly tousled, the striking blue eyes, like it's twinkling as he smiles. His tall stature is more obvious due to the small space but his stance is relaxed as he watches over you, the differences in your height just perfect enough to display the golden sun on his neck at your eye level. There's no denying, it's really Phainon in the flesh, and the novel did not lie, he's the most charming and radiant person you've seen in the entire time you're here.

Oh dear, he's so beautiful.

You would've gushed about him more if it weren't for the silence that's hanging over you and the current situation about that mirror.

“Ahh… yeah this store is… really interesting!” The response came as awkward as you can imagine, although Phainon didn't seem to mind as he chuckled and continued the conversation.

“I know, right? The shop’s filled with so many antiques and magical devices that I couldn't imagine how long it would take to appraise them all, they seem endless and that's what draws me here,” His tone is cheery, a smile spreading across his face.

You nearly forgot that Phainon has a hobby of collecting antiques and appraising them.

The lady comes out of the room carrying a box — presumably the mirror with your room in it inside. She hands the box to Phainon, but her stare never leaves you.

“Miss if you'd like, we have more hand mirrors and other displays-”

“Oh, is the lady over here interested in this mirror too?” Phainon suddenly interrupts the lady, who answers his question with a nod.

“Actually… I really wanted to check this specific mirror,” you softly said, might as well whisper with how quiet it went out of your mouth.

“My, I didn't expect to make a lady sad today. Unfortunately, I did reserve this a week ago… and I’m kind of expecting this piece — but! If you'd like, you can join me in appraising this, you said you wanted to see it closely right?” He offers, his smile widens as he turns to you, seemingly proud of his solution.

Oh no, he has such a nice smile.

Who could say no to that?

You take his offer.

★

In the first place, why do you still want to go home?

You woke up in a world filled with magic and whimsy, a world that looks like it has your dreams for its foundation. From a fantasy novel to a daily occurence.

So why?

Maybe it's because despite being physically here, you never really belonged. The monotonous voice that calls out to your ‘parents’, the practiced greetings, and the feeling of disconnect from your very self.

It's like you're just playing a role.

A role you cannot take seriously. Because back there, you have a life, a pretty boring one but it's yours. You're wondering if your cat is fed back home, you're thinking about your friend who wanted to meet up that day, and is your family worried? What about your real body? And your phone.

Oh you miss the glorious internet even for all its flaws. Maybe you wouldn't be as lost here if search engines existed.

The thoughts barrage your supposed peace of mind again, which is why you broke your promise of not getting involved with Phainon.

You need to see that damned mirror.

Isn't it funny how things are progressing just like an actual isekai novel? Because you do remember a few titles that had the protagonist promising to stray themselves off of the plot only to get plunged right in the middle of it moments later.

You mentally swatted the thought.

Because unlike the romance novels you've seen, the main driving force of this story is violence and revenge. Phainon succeeded in the story by removing all that tried stopping him. If you make a mistake — get too entangled, you might just get yourself extremely hurt.

There's a hypothesis that if you were to die in an isekai, your soul might just go back to reality. It's a hypothesis that you wish to not prove by looking for alternative paths instead, but if all comes crashing down, you'd rather have your death not by a weapon.

But… there's the alternative already right? Maybe getting a bit involved with the main character is a small price to pay for that. If the mirror proves to be the way of going home, then your involvement with Phainon would have no way of going any further.

So here you are, meeting the very man himself. The Sun of Okhema and the star of The Era Nova, Phainon.

You're not one for lying to yourself, you're a little too excited about seeing Phainon again. He’s totally your type, and if you're as headstrong as those female leads in isekai, you might've even risked it for him.

Well, you're not, and you want to go home now.

“Over here, my lady!” A loud voice beckoned you. With how cheery it sounded, you knew it's definitely Phainon even without looking.

He's wearing casual attire, too casual. White dress shirt that’s a little too sheer, and plain black slacks that go straight down to his leather shoes that's studded with small golden bits on its straps (which you found out are small suns as you walk closer to him). For all the straightforwardness of his outfit, the black choker that wraps around his neck stands out.

You see, you have no qualms about his clothing choices, but the sheer fabric is quite literally framing his muscles to all its glory and you’re a teeny tiny bit flustered. The choker isn't helpful either, as that leads your stare on his neck and jawline instead.

Ah self, pardon my bullshit just this once, not everyday you see the man of your dreams.

You swallow your embarrassment and approach him. You've opted to just a simple wave, but Phainon had other plans — he grabs your waving hand gently kisses it, his eyes never leaving you.

Well, shit.

“Oh? Was that too direct? Apologies, it's a common courtesy here so I just got used to it,” Phainon suddenly retracts himself when he sees your half open mouth.

“No, no, it's fine! Don't worry about it,” You responded almost too quickly, “Anyways, so…”

“The mirror, yes?”

“Yes, yes, the mirror! Can I have a look at it?” Now that you listen closely, it seems weird that you're so eager to ask for someone else’s personal belongings, but for the sake of your trip back home, you're willing to just swallow your pride for now.

“Hmm… no?” Phainon playfully answers, the smile on his face growing.

“Ah?” You could only utter that syllable. Did he finally catch on how weird this entire thing is?

“What I mean is not yet, we have to appraise it first.”

You could only stare at him dumbfounded before laughing it off. Phainon has a hobby of appraising antiques, this is one of his most highlighted quirks in the novel as he wishes to finally break free from his royal duties and work as a full-time appraiser.

Unfortunately, he has to let go of that dream after bearing the crown in the ending.

So as an avid reader and a fan of Phainon, you just let him talk your ear off about the intricate carvings of the mirrors and what tool could have been used in making them.

Just this once Phainon, because in the upcoming years, you'll have bigger worries than telling me the approximate age of this hand mirror.

You smile at how enthusiastic his voice sounded, but as he got into explaining the mirror itself, the entire thing started to feel off.

The mirror, which showed you your old bedroom, now suddenly feels… too normal. Plain. Nothing.

Back in the shop, it's eye-catching. Not only because it showed your real world, but also because the object itself seemed to be calling out your attention.

But right now, as Phainon traces his fingers on the embellished grooves, it feels nothing, like the magic sucked out of it. The suns and moons are now just ordinary embossing on the thing’s surface.

You and Phainon are currently sitting on a bench just right outside the palace. The two of you might've sunk too deep in conversation that the lamp posts that towers you are already lit up. The skies are blurring into orange blue tones.

“Oops, I got carried away. But I hope the lady is satisfied with my appraisal? Hopefully I was able to give you the closest look to it.”

Phainon moves closer to you, before gently putting the hand mirror to your lap.

“It's yours now, a gift, you're the only one who listened this long,” He grins, before standing up and offering his hand, “It's nightfall now, so I will walk you to your carriage.”

The two of you walked across the streets that's starting to liven up. Stalls are being set, with vendors hanging up lights and signages. The kids are running around, the adults sighing behind them. It seems like a bazaar is being set up.

A bazaar?

[As night befalls, the festivities rose. In between the hanging lights and the rows of wooden stalls, lies a plot turned against Phainon.

The assassin waits, a rifle at hand. The people flow until they fill the crevices of the bazaar. In the mind of the hunter, a flock of panicked sheep will cover the fallen prey long enough for him to get away.]

“Fuck was that today?” You whispered to yourself, which earned a curious look from Phainon.

Assassinations. This is what you're talking about as danger and Phainon go hand in hand. Of course, one less royal is one less contestant to the crown.

And now, you might've gotten yourself involved at just the perfect timing to be right beside him when he's supposed to be shot from above.

Phainon did survive this in the novel, but you're not quite sure if you would. The two of you are heading closer to the bazaar when you decide to do your last-ditch effort at distracting him.

You ran towards a little girl selling flowers and bought whatever flower catches your eye, it so happens to be a bunch of hyacinths.

You didn't even collect your change from the girl when you walked back to Phainon and handed him the flowers. “Uhh.. I just wanted to give these to you, thanks for today, Phainon!”

Right, he wanted to buy flowers in the bazaar that day.

“Oh and also, let's just take a detour, the bazaar lights kinda make me dizzy… unless you need to buy something there?”

“No, I don't need anything… thank you too.” Phainon answered. Thank god it worked.

Right in front of you, Phainon is smiling softly, staring at the bunch of hyacinths that are now in his hands. He has the prettiest smile, wish he could keep that.

As the two of you walked to your carriage, it started to slowly sink in that maybe Phainon is not just a character, at least not right now, because that smile felt real.

You hope the assassin gets tired of waiting.

★

When you sat down in the carriage to collect your thoughts, you noticed a few things that were a bit wrong.

In the flurry of your thoughts and emotions earlier, there's one thing you'd miss — the honorifics. Despite him being a complete chatterbox, he's still a prince, and never once in your entire conversation had you referred to him as such.

Oh god, does he now think I’m disregarding his status like the other nobles and royals that are against him?

You've known that your family are businessmen, but you only recently found out that you're prominent ones. Your nobility goes far and wide in Okhema, your family's influence in trade could certainly be used as leverage to the likes of Phainon.

Oh no, I hope I’m not on his hitlist yet, I didn't mean to disrespect him.

Now that you mention it, you might've acted suspicious because of your fixation on that mirror. And now, you also feel bad for trying to claim something he technically owns, knowing his background in the story.

You comforted yourself with the fact that it's his idea to meet like this though, also his idea to let go of the antique, but you now can only hope that it's a genuine meeting and not some sort of test for the weird daughter of the biggest business man in the city.

Right, he did give me the mirror.

You propped up the thing that led you in this situation. An antiquated mirror, which now should've shown you your real world, if your hypothesis was right.

But just like earlier, it doesn't even feel magical or even interesting, as if the mystique that led you to it was knocked straight out of it.

“Fuck, don't tell me that I was only hallucinating back when I was in that shop… to think that I might've made Phainon uncomfortable and pressured him into giving this up, ugh.” You buried your face in your palms, sighing deeply.

A thought popped into your head — the Academy. The Grove of Scholars do have a few mages in their ranks, they're the teachers of magic in this world. Maybe they could help you identify whatever's in the mirror.

Alright, let's make use of this thing, sorry Phainon, but it's a gift now isn't it?

★

The academy in this world is bizarre.

It sits atop of a ginormous tree that towers the entire field. Its branches envelop the surrounding area, in them, different buildings are encased, which can be accessed by the winding pathways that wrap around the trunk.

The tree isn't really the most bizzare thing to you though, it's the stairs. There's special devices scattered that could bring you to the various facilities of the grove, but stairs are still the predominant way of moving around here.

“I'm not built for this thing… is this why they always make the art for those scholar characters bulky despite them claiming they're feeble?” You sat down on one of the staircases. You checked back on your bag and saw that the hand mirror was still there, you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you new here, miss? Haha, yes the grove has a lot of stairs, but once you enroll here, you'll get used to it!” A bubbly voice suddenly comes beside you.

“Oh, hello! Yes… it's embarrassing I get tired this easily, I'm not here to enroll though, I'm just here to inquire about an antique.” You answered the pink-haired girl.

Her smile brightens and she shows you a badge, it's the same as the academy’s.

“Oh, I'm a student here, miss, rest assured that I'm knowledgeable enough though. If you want to tell me about it, maybe I can save you from climbing further up there!”

You take her kind offer and tell her everything you've noticed about the mirror you're holding. She asks you to put it in her hands, and after a few moments her answer comes to you.

“There's not a single trace of magic in here.”

You should've known, but you still felt quite disappointed. What was that back in the shop then? Delusion?

“Oh… I see, well good thing you're here, I might've gone up there only for nothing.” You can only laugh softly at her.

“Well, my professor's lab is there, so even if the mirror turns out to be a fake, you can still ask him about your theories regarding the portal. Don't worry, he won't think it's weird!”

“Also…” The cheerful voice suddenly turns into a whisper, “If you're planning to sell this thing, it might not be worth much.”

“Oh, uhm, I’m not going to sell it… but why wouldn't it be worth much?” You looked at her slowly.

“The mirror is tampered, or probably recently restored, the glass is new. It's not entirely an antique if there's new parts right?”

★

[Broken, bloody pieces of what used to be a fair hand mirror lie messily on the carpeted floors. The golden eyes staring at it only blinks.

The eyes move back onto the table, the metal that used to carry the glass is facing him. The man’s bloody hand, one where some shards are still buried in its skin, carefully caresses the embossed suns.

He then picks up a round piece of mirror, the crafting skills he picked up from his adventures made it so that the foreign piece would fit perfectly in the hollow space the old one left.

If not for keen eyes, it would've looked like it belongs there just fine.]

★

You just woke up, but you feel like going back into the darkness of your sleep.

And stay there for a long, long time.

Because in front of you is a maid. She's an ordinary maid, if not for the blue and gold envelope in your hands.

“His highness Phainon wishes to formally meet you in his estate. Today. Should I prepare your bath and clothes while you eat breakfast?” There's a hint of a smile on her face.

But not yours.

Because you think that this might've been your end. The words his highness sting you. Ah yes, the royalty and their titles, what could go wrong.

But the envelope is already there. For a split second, the idea of just chucking it down the fireplace and running to the countryside like those villainesses sounded good in your head, but you soon came to realize that declining a royal might just pose more misunderstandings.

Let's just hope he lives up to his novel persona and I'll be able to plead with him.

★

You're kind of disappointed in yourself.

For someone who's a ‘self-proclaimed The Era Nova specialist,’ you judged Phainon way too quickly.

It feels more awful seeing his closed-eye smile directed at you.

No, he didn't execute you or put you under some royal decree. What he did do is literally thank you for buying him flowers that night and served you the most fragrant (and probably expensive) tea you've ever had.

“Sorry for the sudden invite, I was just excited to finally have a friend here.”

“Ah… yes, of course, I'm happy to have met you too, your highness-” This time you made sure to not forget, but he only frowned at this.

“So formal now, aren't we?” He looks at you with what seems to be puppy-dog eyes and your heart flips.

“Did I… have I offended you that night? I'm sorry-”

“Oh no! No you didn't, I don't care much about titles like that anyway… plus even if I do, it's not your fault, you're not used to it, right?” He quickly exclaims, trying his best to prove your thoughts about that night wrong.

Used to it?

“Anyways, please don't think of this meeting as anything else aside from a simple chat with a friend.” He smiles again, “Oh, the biscuits ran out, let me fetch some more, if you excuse me.”

He saunters to the door, leaving you alone in his office. You suddenly feel smaller when you realize where you are. Is it really okay for him to bring a stranger to such a place?

He even personally fetched snacks for you, as in the novel, he's used to doing things on his own. It's because he grew up to do so, because he's raised to be alone.

But he never brought that up against anyone, instead he just considers it as a way of showing sincerity to those around him, personally attending to them and being ‘a friend’. These things about him make him such a warm character. You feel the worst for being distant to him.

You should've known that he probably never had anyone listen to his long-winded explanations about his antiques or just have a simple chat that doesn't involve royal politics. He's always been described in the novel as a free-spirited and cordial fellow after all.

But hopefully, he doesn't blame you for putting up walls. He was at the center of all in this novel, all the good and the bad. You just wanted to enjoy your stay here and go back home. You cannot risk being tied to him.

All these thoughts had you fiddling your necklace that's made with a rare pearl only found in the deepest parts of the sea. The thing is incredibly expensive. So when the pearl suddenly detaches from the chain, you pray Phainon takes longer and crawled to the floor to retrieve it.

You think you've hit an all-time high stress level when you feel a sharp pain in your palm. As you're skittering around the sofa, you manage to feel the pearl underneath it, what you didn't notice is the shard of glass sitting beside it.

It was too late when you felt it after unknowingly pressing down on it to catch the pearl. You sat back down on the sofa, carefully dropping it to your purse.

You held onto the glass shard though. The piece emanates a strange sheen to it, as if it's glowing.

Suddenly, the mirror flickers, a bright light reflects on it for a few seconds before disappearing.

No way… are all the mirrors in this world weird?

“Hey I'm back…?” You turned your head towards Phainon, who's carrying a plate of various biscuits and sweets. You hurriedly shove the shard in your purse too.

Phainon's stare darkens and you gulp. Shit did he see me crawling around in his office right after he trusted me to be left alone?

“Wait, so-”

“Your hand is bleeding, what happened?” Phainon quickly ran towards you. He set down the plate and pulled a snow-white handkerchief from his pockets. He gently wiped the blood which you hadn't noticed, had trickled to your fingers. He also patted closer to the wound, which made you wince.

“Wait, my pendant fell and I went to retrieve it, but I must've pressed my hand on a sharp edge… thank you for wiping it, I didn't notice the blood.” You alter the story a bit, not wanting to alert him about you taking something from his home, even if it's a mere mirror shard.

“I see… there's a washroom down the hallway, let me bring you there.” He stops dabbing at the wound, he then helps you up, the worried look on his face now lightened.

★

If you hadn't known, you would've thought that Phainon's estate is the Palace itself.

What's supposed to be a simple walk into the washroom turned into sightseeing for you. The hallways are magnificent, something you thought you'd only see in movies. The interior of the entire place is entangled in gold. There's also sculptures and antiques, which you're guessing are a part of Phainon's collection.

The washroom is covered in dark blue, which makes the marble of the sink stand out. As you dip your hand into the basin, you unconsciously looked into the mirror and met with Phainon's stare.

“Your estate is magnificent, your hi- ah, Phainon.” You mentioned, trying to stave off the awkwardness of him staring like a hawk while you clean your wound.

“Hmm, family passed it down to me, gift from the emperor.” Phainon continues. His body leans to the doorway, eyes still in your hands.

“I see… Do you live alone? Sorry if it seems prying, but I haven't seen another soul ever since I got here.”

He lives alone. You think. In the novel, while Phainon is presented to be this outgoing boy, he actually leads a secluded life. He chose to live alone in an estate to distance himself from the palace. But it would be weird if you acted like you knew.

“No, it's not prying, and yeah, I live alone, quite lonely if you ask me.” He walked towards you when you finished, grabbing your hands and gently drying it with a wash towel. He then wraps your palm in thin gauze, the actions making your cheeks heat up.

“Apologies if it seems sloppy, I haven't really done this to anyone aside from myself.” He murmurs.

“No, no, it's fine! Thanks a lot, Phainon.”

The two of you walk back to his office, there's still biscuits to finish and stories to tell, after all.

★

[For all he could remember, he's always been alone.

A child born from a loveless marriage, only brought to this world to fight for a piece of embellished metal. There was a time when he had friends and such, but it's a time long gone as what's only left now is a hollow manor he calls his home.

It's a lonely gift, devoid of anyone who cares. It's a cage in a sense that what's only keeping him here is the promise of a crown. If he could, he would've left in a heartbeat, but all he ever built up will be left in waste too.

So you cannot blame his anguish when he found out that his hardships were only written for entertaining an otherworldly audience. That one fateful evening where his magic uncovered the reality of his sad, lonely world.

But there was someone.

Who kept flipping the pages of his story, the one who laughed when he did, cries when he does. Curiosity led to observation, and suddenly, he didn't seem too alone.

He kept track of you in the reflection of waters, in dreams, in mirrors. Sometimes your words would be heard in his head, sometimes you're like an apparition in his walls.

But all that's important to him is that you're his devoted reader. A dedicated audience to this woeful farce.

He saw the ending, the bloodshed in the throne room, the crown and the new reign. He laughs, because it was framed as a victory, it's ironic — because all the nights he wished he was just born an ordinary boy ultimately ends up with him being farther away from it.

He’s not going to stray away from it though, he doesn't think he can, he's too deep to ever go back up. But he's still a lonely man, so when his magic finally transcends barriers, he couldn't help but ask you a question.

“Are you willing to do that for me?”

Your agreement is all that mattered, as he's hurriedly scribbling in the tattered book he found somewhere. The book lists itself as ‘The Era Nova’, but Phainon did not care about what anomaly made him aware of the universe’s truth, all he could care about is your new identity written in frantic scribbles.

Your soul feels nice. It's the only thing he could come up with when you came to him. It's like you truly loved him.

It's dark in his office. He couldn't believe a few hours ago you sat within the same room. He thanks the assassin sprawled out dead in the dungeons of this estate, his foolish plots gave him a reason to bring you here.

And a reason for you to save him, to show him you truly care for him. The handkerchief in his nose smells of faint iron. He could only apologize in his head for leaving you to hurt.

But he hopes you'd understand a desperate man’s attempt of making his predetermined ending feel better.]

★

You made it this time.

This time, you didn't whine about the academy's preference of stairs, instead you ran as fast as you could to a laboratory, in hand a broken piece of mirror. Your mind being more focused on the questions that lingered after your discovery at Phainon’s estate probably helped in obscuring the effects of running up at around five floors (to your estimation, at least).

When you reached the metal doors of the lab, you didn’t even knock, you only barged in, meeting the gazes of the pink-haired scholar who helped you last time and her so-called professor who’s sporting a peculiar eyepatch. The man did not seem to mind though, as he only sighed and mouthed a ‘told ya’ to his student. The said student only awkwardly smiled and ushered you further inside the room.

“When my dear student told me about your small predicament last time, it honestly piqued my interest. I had always heard of theories about portals and such, but this is my first time actually hearing about it as an experience rather than a hypothesis. Well then, I presume what’s in your hand is the experiment sample then?” The professor with the dead stare did not even spare that to you, his eyes are only trained towards the shard that’s nearly piercing through your skin.

“Don’t mind his bluntness, my teacher is a reliable scholar first and foremost, you can entrust him with studying about this seriously, especially since he’s very interested in it. I will also be sharing the progress transparently, so don’t worry. Now, if you don’t mind, you can loosen up your grip on that broken glass, it might pierce you…again.” The scholar’s eyes trail on your bandaged hand, her gentle words made you drop the mirror into the table, your fingers pushing it towards the professor.

“If my deductions are on the right track, alchemy might be able to replicate this kind of glass. If you would give me time to construct, I’ll be sure to leave your name into the papers I will produce about this. Hehe, imagine the looks on those fools’ faces once they realize that I am, once again, correct.” He muttered, attention now more focused on assessing the shard rather than in your conversation, with that in mind, you relent from asking further questions and just trusting their words.

“If anything happens, you’ll be the first to know. Thank you for this new knowledge, kind lady.” The pink-haired scholar assures you, escorting you out of the room, it’s probably because her mentor’s starting to open five cabinets at once now. Yeah, I’ll leave that guy alone too.

“If all of these end up right and the mirror or whatever portal is made, please give me a chance to use it.”

“Of course! I thought I’ll have to drag some poor scholar down or myself in that but it’s nice to know that someone is willing to play guinea pig in this experiment.” A voice from the inside suddenly rings out.

The two of you outside the door chuckled at that.

★

Just like in the real world, learning facilities at nighttime are eerily quiet and give off a strange chill the longer you stay.

The leaves surrounding the grove are rustling along the wind’s howls. You’re starting to regret your decision of not waiting until tomorrow morning to visit. You couldn’t blame yourself though, it was the closest lead you had to going back home, but running here at nightfall wasn’t the brightest idea you had for the day.

All the scholars are probably within their dormitories now or have already gone home. The likes of that professor are stuck within the highest floors that contain their laboratories.

If anything were to happen, nobody will be fast enough to get you out.

What the hell? Shut up. You reprimanded your unnecessary thoughts. In fact, you need to tackle a few questions that are plaguing your mind first.

Why did Phainon have this kind of item, a broken one at that, just littered on his floors. Wasn’t he a bit fussy of his collection in the novel? Why wouldn’t he notice if one of them is broken?

More popped up in your mind, unfortunately, it’s all questions and no answers.

If I’m correct, this glass belongs to that mirror he gifted me. But it’s intact, is this from another item? Another magic portal item or something?

Then, the scholar’s words rang loud and clear; “It's tampered.”

Did Phainon…break the mirror? Did he restore it because he was too embarrassed? Or was he someone who doesn't mind alterations on his antiques?

A stupid sounding thought broke out at the back of your mind.

Did he break it because he knew something was up?

Suddenly, a breeze passes by your shoulders. At first. At first it was only a breeze, but when you looked to your side, you suddenly felt something on the other. A fabric, just brushing close enough to feel in your skin but light enough to make you question if it's real.

But now you're sure it's real, because a few moments you hear pieces of metal clanging. You looked in front of you, and just like those apparitions in horror movies, there's a figure at the end of the dimly lit hallway.

A tall figure, donned in a black cloak and armored in swirling metal plates. A mask sits inside its hood. Its fingers covered in plated claws and its chest appear to be hollow.

He looks familiar.

You stop in your tracks, senses on high-alert. He's probably the one who brushed past you and if that's correct, then he's extremely fast. No use in outrunning him then, better just keep an eye out on his movements or sources of help.

The figure also stops and stares at you. Your stand-off lasted for a short while until it tilted its head,

And waved.

At least that's what you think it did before it suddenly vanished before your eyes, nowhere to be seen or felt again.

★

Phainon has developed a habit of sending you random letters and various trinkets he got from his travels.

He also loves to initiate meetings and tea times with you. At first, you're happy to attend each and every one of them, but as time goes on, you start to question his fondness for inviting you at least every other day.

Not that you doubt him, at least not too much — you knew his tendencies to latch on to things due to his upbringing, but you can't help but question his true motives when he just invades your personal time as if you're not an acquaintance he just met recently.

You learned to decline his invitations. You really liked his character, but you're unsure of whether you can handle being involved with him as a person. He's on his way to becoming the ruler of this vast kingdom and you're supposed to be on your way home, so not much should happen.

The invitations thinned out, albeit gradually. He still sends a lot of trinkets — such as small woodworks of cute animals and magic lamps, which are now starting to pile up on your work desk, but the letters and requests to meet do not overflow from the holder anymore. He appears to have gotten the message.

You want to go home. Sure, you loved this place and the magic it has, but the gnawing anxiety of the life you left back there is haunting your days here. If you're going to get yourself thrown into another world, you want to at least make amends in your previous one.

Speaking of going home, you're currently staring at a letter. The pale green envelope stares back, proudly displaying the logo of the academy on its seal. You take a deep breath and brace yourself for whatever the results will show.

Greetings, My Lady

I’m pleased to inform you that I was able to recreate the material you brought here last time. It was truly a magnificent experience…

The light in your eyes sparkled. I can finally go home. Your cheeks hurt grinning. You looked up to your ceiling, mentally saying farewells to the place that took you into this world.

You continue reading.

“...but unfortunately, a huge accident happened within the academy. A cloaked assailant sneaked within the grove and hurt a few scholars, aside from that, it seemed to be targeting this specific experiment. I saw with my own eyes how it shattered the mirror, almost pulverizing it. I was able to retrieve a few samples and escape but I am not sure if I'll be able to recreate it as fast…”

Now, this is why they say never celebrate too early. Disappointment eats you up, causing you to just chuck the letter away. Not time for farewells yet, you suppose.

But one thing caught your attention. Cloaked figure. That night, you also saw a figure with a similar description.

Black…cloak?

Phainon.

Many scenes of the novel involve Phainon disguising himself in a black cloak. When he assassinated the other royalty in that throne room, he was wearing a black cloak.

“Shit, why didn't I remember that sooner?” You uttered, almost inaudibly. You've been focused on going the past few days that you have forgotten the details of the novel.

Phainon might just be the reason you're failing your attempts at returning home, and you just let yourself be too involved with him.

★

Lately, instead of you, only letters of your declines have been reaching his doors.

Phainon is growing frustrated at the replies he received. Just as when he thought the two of you were getting closer, you just had to start distancing yourself.

Did you find out something?

He laughs sardonically, his hands covering his right eye that's now turning golden due to the sudden influx of magic. He looks down at his table, the paper now ruined, too much ink seeped into it. Of course you denied it again, and somehow managed to send it to him as he's writing another invite.

He can feel it, your soul wavering. When he first brought you here, all he felt was pure amazement and curiosity from you, but now he can feel doubts and fatigue too.

“Can't you… just- ah.” He slumps his head, turning towards the small figurine he carved earlier. It's a figure of two lovebirds, perched on a small throne while nuzzling each other. Both of them were wearing a tiny crown on their heads.

Really, he tried carving your likeness more times than he'd like to admit, but there's something about you that makes it so hard for him to be satisfied with just carvings. Whatever he makes doesn't live up to his image of you in his head — feels fake, feels cold. So he just opts to present your likeness as animals and things he's fond of.

Nowadays, Phainon has been fantasizing about you joining him on his journey.

So when he felt your soul trying to break free from this world, he couldn't help but silently beg you to stay and not leave him to be alone in this world again.

★

Please, be my partner. There is an upcoming ball to the palace, you're the only one I can trust.

You never expected such a heavy statement coming from him, especially not after you just tried to keep him at an arm's length. You've even reached a point of telling him off. There was stirring conflict within you, Phainon clearly appears to be invested in your friendship, but at the same time, you're uncertain of what kind of plot he'll bring into your already bizarre situation.

However, if you keep declining him time and time again, it'll appear unusual. The two of you started on good terms, suddenly abandoning him could be seen as rude and might just make him ask more questions.

And frankly, you're running out of believable reasons for declining him.

So you push yourself up and ask the maids for help. You'll humor him this time, maybe even get to ask him why he's so dead set on sticking close to you.

★

The carriage ride to the palace is a peaceful little thing.

You looked out to the town square, the awe of being in another still hints at you, but you've gotten used to the sights by now. All your attempts at steering away from the plot ironically ended up with you driving right through the center of it.

Everything with the palace screams imposing, it's a marvelous place, but it does a good job of making you feel small. Luckily, not a lot of guards are stationed to stare down at your minute existence. But the few ones who were are staring at you oddly.

You went through normal procedures and you're escorted to the grand doors. It's closed.

On your way here, there have been a multitude of red flags raising left and right. Firstly, it's quiet, not a single peep, not befitting of such a proud place. And for all the palace’s vanity, there's no other visitors of the same caliber, in fact there's no other visitors at all.

There was no ball.

That's your final observation. You don't know what you did so, so wrong in your stay here, but Phainon has reached a new point where he straight up lies to get your attention now.

What was so important about meeting you? When all he talks about when the two of you have your little tea parties are idle topics not worth making a palace this grand deserted.

The guards opened the door, and you're right, it's absolutely empty. There's supposed to be an option to go back, but the men outside had conveniently closed it off before you could say anything.

He really, really wants to talk, huh?

You march down deeper into the building, hoping that guesswork and acquired knowledge from the novel could bring you towards the prince’s quarters.

But before you could even reach the third set of winding hallways, you heard a loud scream coming from the central part of the floor. You froze, cold sweat forming in your temples. No, it couldn't be today right? Your heart pounds loudly, you can feel the beating in your ears.

Too early, it's years too early.

Phainon ascending to the throne couldn't be today, hell, it couldn't be this year. Because he's not yet prepared. He bought support from various kingdoms before the ascension, it's an integral part of the novel’s worldbuilding. From what you've heard from him, he only traveled within Okhema the past months.

So it shouldn't be today right?

One scream, two screams. Screams interrupted your silent denial of what's happening. There's too many, and it just got louder after the sound of a door being thrown open boomed.

I need to get out.

You tried navigating the hallways, hunching down when the screams got louder. It died down soon though, and you managed to find yourself in an open area that looked similar to the lobby you went in from.

It's not the same lobby though.

“Going to decline my invitation again?” A voice suddenly emerges from behind. You turn towards it and you see Phainon, holding a bloody greatsword and wearing an uncanny grin on his face.

Oh his face. It's a shame that his beautiful face is so fucking bloody right now. It's dripping, some clinging to his white hair. And his white regalia — might as well be red, with how drenched it is in blood.

The scarier part is that none of it is probably his blood. He's unscathed against this many royals, they didn't stand a single chance.

So not a chance you would. He makes way towards you, you can only step back mere centimeters before finally freezing up. He stops when he's close to your form, the smell of iron almost suffocating you.

He leans down, “You're going to leave me again, aren't you?”

“What…?”

“The people you're so afraid of ruining your life, these stupid royals, I killed them all, so you don't have to be afraid.”

“How did you… fuck, you're insane-” Your words are caught in your throat when Phainon suddenly grabs you and carries you in his shoulders. You tried hitting his back, but he only holds your waist tighter and snicker at your feeble attempts of breaking free.

He walks past the dead bodies of what used to be royals. You remember the scene from the novel, the fallen figures. You only tear up, your hands fall limp, refusing to hold onto Phainon's damp attire, lest you want to squeeze out royal blood from it.

“All of these blood flowing out of them and converging into one, this might just be the purest form of the royal blood they keep prattling about!” He suddenly mentions in passing, you feel his shoulders shake from laughter.

You shuddered.

You reach the throne room, which aside from the throne, just contains multiple portraits and statues. And the bodies of the people behind those, probably.

He settles you down the grandiose throne. It feels foreign, the velvet clings to your skin, while the metal feels too cold for comfort. He kneels down, arms clamped to your waist as he leans his head down on your thighs.

“Phainon.”

“Can you say my name again?” He looks up, putting his palm on your thigh and setting his chin on top of it, his manic, golden eyes just laser-focused on yours. The color just pops out more in contrast to the red around it.

“Why are you doing this?” You didn't entertain his request, which put a slight pout on his face. He removes his head on your thighs and lifts you up again, earning a yelp from you. He then settles down to the throne and places you on his lap, his arms locking you close to his chest.

“You said, that if I needed a princess by my side, you'd be willing to take that place,” Phainon whispers, now putting his chin up on your shoulders, his head slightly leaning towards yours.

Your eyes widened, “All this time, you're aware-”

“I am. What I didn't expect was you finding those anomalous portals fast, I tried breaking them all but they kept reappearing.” He sighs, sulking a bit.

That's why. That's why he seems so relaxed about you forgetting his titles, that's why he treats you as if you're not used to the customs of Okhema, your supposed birthplace.

Because it's him that plunged you right into this world.

“What I also didn't expect is that after all your declarations that you love me and that I am your favorite, the first thing you do is to try and leave me.” He continues.

Phainon made it a point to bring you entirely here, and not just stuff your soul on some poor extra. He altered the story not for himself, but to drag you along with him into this world.

“I am not from here, Phainon, and that was clear as day to you. I have a life back there! And the love I had for you, it's because you're a character I loved reading about-”

“What I had for you was real!” Phainon suddenly exclaims, he flips your positions, hands on your shoulders as he pushes your form to the throne’s backrest. “I've always observed you, you always appear to me when I feel so down. I've known you longer than you think!”

You're speechless. He can see you? All this time.

“You love me, don't you? So why leave?” Phainon leans his forehead on your shoulders. He's now straddling you, which makes it harder to move and the smell of blood more nauseating.

He lifts his head up, bringing his face close in front of yours, “Well it's not like you can, because yeah, it was me. All of it was me. The hand mirror? I broke it. The scholars, I just gave them a little scare. I did it all, for you… so you can't leave, not after you said you love me.”

“I don't-” He interrupts you.

“I will kill you.”

If there's still anxiety and fear left pent up within, it finally spilled out now. Your breath hitched at his statement, your entire body tensing up.

“My power grew to the point where I found out some… things. Did you know that if you leave your other body for too long, it'll cease to- hm, operate?” Phainon caresses your face before continuing, “If your body died there, then you'll have nothing to return to right?”

“I'm not going to kill you here, I’m killing you there, so that you'll be able to live here.”

“You're sick… You're the fucking worst, what did I ever do to you.” You broke down. Phainon responded by cradling your form and running his fingers in your hair.

“Nothing, you don't have to do anything. It's because I love you. Ah! I almost forgot,” He suddenly reaches out under his vest. He pulls out a blue velvet box and hands it to you.

His stare is expectant, so you opened the box, inside was a wooden figurine of two birds, perched on a throne that looks like the one the two of you are sitting in. You hate it. Not because it's badly made, no, actually the opposite — it's such a chillingly accurate representation of the scene you're currently in right now.

You hate what it's insinuating, you'd love to deny it, but underneath the figurine is a ring, a silver band, with a blue and yellow gem opposite of one another. The blue gem is enclosed in a moon, while the yellow one is within a sun.

Stop denying it, it's no use.

“I learned it from a jeweler who’s been working here since I was a child,” Phainon loosens his hold. He gently puts the ring on your finger. On his own is an identical one.

And as if noticing that something is missing when compared to the bird figurine, Phainon leans down and plucks something off of the floor on the throne's side. He grips the armrests as he does, caging you in, but his lowered form gives you a clearer picture of the bloodbath in the room. Gold and blues all intermingled with red.

Phainon straightens his posture again, in his hand are crowns. Two crowns.

You feel cold metal on the top of your head, in front of you Phainon also puts a crown on his. He smiles at you, so sweetly, before leaning down and sealing your fate with a passionate kiss.

That fateful day, the two of you are crowned Emperor and Empress of the kingdom.

Phainon had ascended the throne, this time, he isn't alone.

[The end.]

[seraph's note]: AWOOOOOOGH PHAINON. i am utterly devastated with 3.4 but at least brought the peak gameplay and character of my GOAT phainon. i've been enjoying on bringing him to just about any available content in-game lol.

this took waaaaaay longer than it should, i was supposed to upload it on the day i got him but i got writer's block lol. if it wasn't obvious, this is heavily based off of those isekai manhwas (that i will always eat up despite having almost the same plot everytime). the delay hopefully paid off as i channeled my inner yap god to this 11k word piece lmao. thx for reading if you managed to get to the end, love you for that, mwah.

want more? check out the [database.] for other content!

#seraph's_files #seraph.txt #seraph.exe #yandere x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #phainon #phainon x reader #hsr phainon #hsr #hsr x reader #yandere hsr #yandere phainon #yandere male #yandere #yandere phainon x reader #yandere hsr x reader #tw: dark themes

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pwnyta · 5 months ago

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Something about Ivo initiating or prompting all the physical closeness or touch with Stone... Is something I can be so extra about.

Ivo masking his desire for human connection with flaunting and violence just in case hes rejected.

Meanwhile Stone rarely gets close or touches Ivo unless Ivo gets hurt and needs his help.

(technically the makeover scene is ALSO initiated by Ivo but Stone took several inches(pause))

And Stone pretty implicitly trusts Ivo so maybe he trusts that hes really not WORTHY of Ivos affections.

Something something... Ivo and Stone are both needy and touch-starved but neither of them know how to ask for affection. (Ivos like a weird little fucked up bird doin his eccentric little mating dances and flashing his colors but thinking hes the only one of his species while Stone is very impressed but thinking the little nest hes keeping tidy aint good enough.)

They almost got there in the crab tho!

But Ivo was depressed after his major failure and the pain from his loss and Stone sought to make him happy and motivated again... which got them to Gerald which causes Ivo to replace Stone and push him away... literally. The touch/closeness that Stone initiates after Gerald comes into the picture is IMMEDIATELY punished.

Stone lost the closeness he had with Ivo for a chance to see Ivo happy again.

Ivo realized far too late what he threw away...

But I do love that Ivo seemed confident that Stone would see his message because of course Stone would see it. Stone has always been there when he needed him to be. The vastness of space didnt stop Stone from being there for him the last time...

Im just realizing now too both their last calls they didnt get to see each other but they were very much verbally expressing how much they loved each other and showing their intense desire to protect one another.

'Im not there to protect you. I already lost you once, I cant lose you again.'

'Agent Stone, if I cant rule the world, I may as well save it for the one and only person who has ever cared about me.'

___(:3 っ )ぅ___

#Stobotnik #Ooh the yappin is crazy. Sorry. Im feelin a type of way. I was doin something else...#The fact the silly ass Sonic movies are making me this unhinged is SO stupid. LMFAO.#Posting Stob.

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maldaptivedreamer · 8 months ago

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...Ride A Cowboy - Arcane

It’s been quiet, suspiciously quiet, since John skipped town. His presence lingers in your mind, haunts your home. And despite the time that has passed, the strain between you and your mother remains. It may have eased slightly, but it's still there, hiding in every word and whispered with every civil greeting.

And then there's Sevika.

A new kind of tension manifests itself between the two of you. You find yourself stealing glances at Sevika more often than you'd like to admit. Her presence on the ranch has become a constant, almost comforting in its familiarity. Yet there's an undercurrent of something else, a spark that ignites whenever your eyes meet or your hands accidentally brush.

content: Sevika x fem reader, errors/mistakes, wild west au, outlaw/cowboy sevika, young adult sevika, strained mother/daughter relationship, homophobia, fighting/violence, death/murder, blood, gun/knife, name calling, canon character cameos, wlw smut, choking kink cameo, spitting kink, praise kink, pain kink, spanking, grinding, fingering, cunnilingus, tribbing, angsty ending, slow burn where??

wc: ~14.2k

a/n: What’s up gang, this part is gonna end pretty angsty so beware of that. Ignore the song choice being totally inaccurate to whatever time this is placed in. I couldn't not pick the "Save A Horse, Ride A Cowgirl" cover by Chloe Breez and Annapantsu for this story. Not really significant in the story tho. Hope to have the 3rd part done and finished soon. Taglist open, just lmk!!

MINORS DNI NSFW 18+

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Wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand, you glance back at her. “You done already?”

She lets out a soft hum of affirmation and leans against the door, her silver eyes following your every move as you strain to lift a large bundle of hay into a wheelbarrow.

Her gaze lingers on you, admiring you. The corners of her mouth curl up in a mischievous smirk as she speaks up. “You know when I met you, you were wearin’ a skirt. You only save them for special occasions?”

You grunt as you hoist the large bundle onto the wheelbarrow, panting. “I wear ‘em when I can.” You reply with a shrug, shooting her a smile as you adjust the gloves on your clammy hands. “What can I say?… I like my skirts and I like my pants.”

As you push the wheelbarrow out to the horse pasture, Sevika trails behind you. Her slow, admiring gaze travels from your hat down to your booted feet. You feel heat rise to your cheeks under her intense gaze.

"I really do like your skirts." She says, her voice low and husky. She glances down at you, licking her lips. "And I like your pants too, angel." The intensity of her stare makes your core ache with desire.

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your bashful smile as Sevika steps closer to you. The heat of her breath dances across your tingling skin as she grasps your face in her hand, the roughness of her callused fingers pressing into your cheeks as she squeezes them.

A teasing glint sparkles in her eye as she scolds you. "You seem to do that a lot, sweetheart." She says, her voice laced with amusement. “That rollin’ your eyes nonsense may get you into trouble one day.”

Chewing on your lip, you look at her through a veil of heavy eyelashes. “Maybe I like trouble, Sev.” You reply coyly.

A smirk curls on Sevika's lips as she rubs her thumb just beneath your bottom lip and you shiver. “Sev huh?” She says with amusement.

“Mhmm.” You hum, unable to suppress a smile.

Sevika's large stallion nudges between you, interrupting the moment and causing both of you to break away with a laugh. You send her an amused glance before turning your attention to the horse, petting him affectionately. “Yah know, you never told me what his name was.”

She takes a step back, her eyes flicking over to you with a questioning glance. “He doesn’t have one. Why would I need to give him one?”

Your eyes widen in shock as you gape at her. Blinking rapidly, you wave your hands at him. “Why wouldn’t you give him a name!? He deserves one!”

“What like Honey?” She sends you a look and you glare at her. “He's a horse. He doesn't need a name."

Your glare falls as you gasp dramatically, placing your hands over his ears. "Don't listen to her, boy. She doesn't know what she's talkin’ about." You coo at the horse, stroking his mane.

Sevika watches you with amusement, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Fine… What do you think?"

You pause, studying the stallion intently. You shrug. "You know him better than I do. What do you think?”

Sevika snorts, her nostrils flaring in exasperation. "I don’t know. Stubborn shit."

Sending her a smirk, you laugh. "Must take after his rider." Sevika rolls her eyes in response, and you give the horse’s cheek another soft pat. “Maybe just take some time to think on it.”

Sevika silently watches as you hum in the silence, spoiling the large horse with attention.

Suddenly, her stance changes. Glaring at the sky, Sevika sets her hands on her hips, her frustration palpable. “Why’d your mom keep him ‘round for so long?” She asks bluntly.

You briefly pause before continuing to brush your hand over the stallion’s nose, lost in thought. Sighing through your nose, your voice is quiet and contemplative. “She wanted me to marry him.” Your hand falls from the stallion.

Feeling the need to distract yourself, you move to the wheelbarrow and attempt to lift a bundle of hay above your head and into the feeder. Your arms tremble with effort. “But we got plenty a’ ranch hands, so I don’t mind runnin’ everythin’ myself.” You grit out with a grunt.

Sevika's lips curl up as she watches you struggle. She slowly shifts closer, her silver eyes sparkling.

Seeing her move to help you, you frantically shake your head. “Hey! I can-”

Ignoring your protests, she gently pushes you aside and effortlessly tosses the hay into the feeder. Giving you a cocky smirk, she silently returns to her spot and you gape at her.

Her smirk widens as she leans back, looking down her nose at you. "Careful, angel." She taunts playfully. “You might catch somethin’ with your mouth wide open like that.”

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you give her an indignant shout, quickly turning to cover your face. Your voice trembles with flustered frustration as you continue. “As I was sayin’… I don’t need a husband to take care of. Mama’s just worried I’ll be lonely, I guess.” Your words become quieter and more guarded.

“No one in town good enough for you?” She pries.

Avoiding her gaze, you scratch at your neck nervously. “I-I don’t think so, no… Plus they don’t really like me, so…” You trail off.

Scoffing in disbelief, Sevika's voice grows indignant. “Why wouldn’t they like you?”

Rolling your eyes, you groan. “Well, it doesn’t matter. There’s not really anyone who’s uhh- my type. Yah know?” You finish with an awkward shrug, feeling self-conscious under her intense gaze.

With a playful nudge, she raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what’s your type, angel?”

Avoiding the question, you forcefully fling off your gloves and toss them into the wheelbarrow. Rubbing your hands over your face in frustration, you begin to pace back and forth.

“Well they don’t like me, cause of this dumb rumor. Somebody started goin’ round town spreadin’ this rumor that I like women. Which means that people keep their distance from me.” You confess, angrily etching a path in the dirt with your steps. “I mean, some of them are nice to my face, but-”

“Do you?” She interrupts, her voice intense but devoid of judgement.

You chew your lip nervously, studying her features for any sign of disapproval. Releasing a shaky breath, you shrug helplessly as your arms flop down by your sides. “I- I think I do… I- I like women.” You finally confess, stuttering over your words. “Have for a- a long time, I guess.”

Her voice is husky and alluring as she gazes at you with heavy-lidded eyes. “Come here.” She commands.

Your heart flutters in your chest at her tone, your breath catching in your throat as you take hesitant steps towards Sevika.

She reaches out and hooks a finger into the belt loop of your jeans, tugging you closer until your bodies are pressed together. Your pulse races as she looks down at you, her silver eyes darkening with desire.

"There's nothin' wrong with likin' women." Sevika purrs, her thumb tracing small circles on the skin of your hip. "Nothin' at all."

You swallow hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "You don't think it's… wrong?"

Sevika shakes her head, a small smirk playing on her lips. "No, angel. I think it's just fine."

Her hand glides up your arm, leaving a trail of raised hairs and goosebumps in its wake. Her hand lingers at your throat, fingers wrapping around the base with a light but firm squeeze. A gasp escapes your lips as you lean into her touch; her chest rumbles against you as she chuckles.

With a gentle lift of her hand under your chin, she tilts your head upwards. She drags her thumb over your bottom lip, tracing the curve in tantalizing slow motion.

Flicking your tongue out, you stare at her beneath your eyelashes as you nip at the tip of her thumb. She releases your lip with a grunt and your eyes drift closed as you feather your lips against hers in a tentative peck. Your lips barely touch and Sevika resists the urge to smile at your timidness.

Swallowing nervously, you grow more desperate for her you kiss her again, deepening the kiss.

Her lips are like velvet against yours, moving with a practiced ease. You let out a small moan as she guides your movements, her hand threading through your hair, the other squeezing the plushness of your hip. Your body responds eagerly, melting into her touch as your hands find their way to rest on her cheeks.

A small whimper escapes you as Sevika's tongue traces your bottom lip, seeking entrance. You part your lips, and her tongue slides against yours. The taste of her overwhelms your senses - a hint of mint and tobacco, mixed with something uniquely Sevika.

Your inexperience shows in the slight awkwardness of your movements, but Sevika doesn't seem to mind. She pulls you closer, bending her knee and grinding you onto her thigh.

Your legs tremble beneath you at the sensation and your hands fly to her shoulders for support. She consumes the moan that escapes your lips as she rubs your core against the muscle of her thigh.

Sevika breaks the kiss, both of you breathing heavily. As you look up at her, you notice a dark wave of arousal hiding the grey of her eyes. "You okay, angel?"

You can only nod, unable to form words as your lips tingle. Every nerve in your body hums with a desperate hunger for more.

Sevika's thumb traces your swollen bottom lip, forehead resting on yours. "Been wantin' to do that for a while now." She admits with a raspy chuckle.

Your heart races at her words, a mix of excitement and nervousness fluttering in your stomach. "Me too." You reply breathily, your fingers clenching the fabric of her shirt as you grind against her thigh. “I- Can we do more?” You plead.

She nods, her intense gaze locked on yours as her hands find their way to your hips, grinding you down onto her knee. "Like what, angel?" She teases, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Leaning in closer, your lips brush against Sevika's ear as you whisper desperately. "Everything. I want to feel you." You whimper.

A low growl rumbles in Sevika's chest at your words, a primal sound that sends shivers down your spine. In one fluid and powerful motion, she grasps the back of your thighs and effortlessly lifts you up. Your legs instinctively wrap around her waist as she carries you to her horse, your heart racing with excitement.

"Where are we going?" You ask, trying to steady your voice but failing as it trembles with anticipation.

"Somewhere more private." Sevika murmurs.

She carefully places you onto the horse's back before swinging on behind you. The saddle is a tight fit with both of you on it, but you hardly notice as Sevika's hand falls to the horn of the saddle. You gasp as her other hand moves under your shirt and fans over your stomach. Bending to your ear, she hoarsely mumbles into your skin. “Found a spot that I think you’ll like, angel.”

Your cheeks flush as heat spreads down to your chest and further to fill your core. You can feel the muscles in Sevika's thighs clench as she urges the horse forward.

With each trot, Sevika's hand on the saddle grinds into you, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “Sevika, how far is it?” You whine, desperate for release.

Pecking your cheek, she hums. “It’s not far, angel. Surely you can be patient for me, can’t you?”

With tears in your eyes and a pleading grip on her hand, you guide it further down to your stomach. “Can’t. I need you, please.”

Biting at your jaw, she cups your core and grinds her palm against you. “Look at you angel, so desperate.” Sevika mocks.

Your hand grips tightly onto her thigh as the other holds her hand against the heated pool between your legs. Your hips buck eagerly into her palm as breathy moans escape your lips.

"That's it, angel. Let me hear those pretty sounds." Sevika purrs into your neck, sucking on a spot below your ear.

You whimper as her fingers increase the pressure against you through the denim. The roughness of the material combined with the rhythmic movement of the horse beneath you creates an intoxicating sensation that has you squirming in the saddle with pleasure.

Sevika's arm wraps tightly around your waist, steadying you. "Easy there, angel." Her warm breath tickles your ear as she whispers softly. "Don't want you fallin' off now."

"Sev, please." Your words come out in gasps, your head falling back against her broad shoulder.

Her words are teasing, taunting. ”What would you have me do, angel? Stuff you full of my fingers where anyone can see?” She pauses, letting out a degrading laugh. “But maybe you would like that, wouldn’t you? If I shoved my fingers knuckle-deep inside of you and showed everyone that you were mine to touch.”

Her lips brush against your skin as she drags her nose up your cheek.

“Oh, but I could never do that to you, sweet girl. I’m greedy.” She growls, her teeth possessively sinking into the skin between your neck and shoulder. “I don’t wanna bless anyone with the noises that fall from your pretty lips. Those are only mine to hear.”

A low growl rumbles in her chest as she nuzzles closer to you, her hand trailing down your side. Your fingers tangle in her hair as she soothes the bite mark with her tongue. "We're almost there." She murmurs reassuringly against your skin.

True to her word, Sevika soon guides the horse off the path and through a small gap between the trees.

You gasp as it comes into view. Surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers, is a beautiful garden. The colors of the flowers range from vibrant pinks to soft oranges, creating a peaceful and enchanting atmosphere.

Carefully dismounting from the horse and leading it further into the lush foliage, she guides you off of the stallion with a gentle touch.

Lowering you down onto the soft grass, her body hovers above yours. Sevika's eyes roam over your face, searching for any flicker of hesitation. "You sure about this, angel?" She asks, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and anticipation.

Wordlessly, you grip her shirt and guide her onto your body. Your hands tremble as you press a desperate kiss to her lips, craving the taste of her. As you roll on top of her, straddling her toned frame, a low whimper escapes your throat. You instinctively move your hips, seeking relief for the intense ache between your legs. She sits up, her body moving in perfect sync with your thrusts.

With a sharp intake of breath, you release a guttural moan that echoes through the air as you throw your head back in ecstasy. Her lips travel down your throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin. Her hand fans against your back while the other squeezes your ass, rolling your hips into her.

Her name escapes your lips in a breathless gasp. You look at her with desire-filled eyes, drinking in the sight of her heaving chest and tangled hair. Stray blades of grass cling to her disheveled strands. With a burst of energy, you push yourself off of her and hold out your hands. “I’ll be right back!” You promise hoarsely before rushing off towards the stallion.

Your heart races with adrenaline, your fingers fumbling with the saddle buckles in your haste. Tossing off the saddle, you snatch the blanket from the horse's back.

As you approach her, panting and flushed with arousal, her expression transforms from confusion to delight as she watches you spread out the blanket on the ground. Sevika's eyes soften as you carefully smooth out the corners, her heart swelling with an unfamiliar warmth at your thoughtfulness.

Shifting onto the blanket, she reaches for you, pulling you back into her arms. “Well don’t you know how to treat a lady, angel.” She teases, brushing a stray hair from your face and admiring you. "You're somethin' else, you know that?"

You blush under her intense gaze, suddenly feeling shy. "I just… I want this to be special." You tell her earnestly.

Sevika cups your face in her hands, her thumbs stroking your cheeks. "It already is, angel." She reassures you with a soft smile.

Her tenderness catches you off guard, making your heart flutter. You look up at her, searching her silver eyes. For what exactly, you’re not sure. "Did you mean what you said… before? About being yours?" You ask hesitantly.

Sevika nods without hesitation, her silver eyes only growing softer as she gazes at you. "I did. Do." Leaning in, you capture her lips in a clumsy kiss.

Sevika gently rolls you onto the blanket, not separating from your lips. You arch into Sevika's touch as she slowly lifts your shirt, her calloused hands caressing your bare skin. A shiver runs through your body, echoed by the flutter in your core. Sevika breaks the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside.

You whimper softly as Sevika trails kisses along your collarbone and down towards your breasts. Your hands tangle in her hair as she moves lower, teasing you through the thin fabric of your bra. With deft fingers, she stretches it over your head, leaving you exposed.

Sevika takes a moment to admire you, her eyes dark with desire. "You're perfect, angel." She says before slowly, torturously slowly, leaning in to capture one of your nipples between her teeth, flicking her tongue over it teasingly.

A guttural moan escapes your lips and your hands eagerly push underneath her shirt, nails raking over her back. She responds with a low moan and a shiver.

Her fingers, skilled and experienced, unbutton your pants effortlessly. As she slips her thick, warm fingers into your panties, she growls in approval at the wetness that greets her.

She gives your nipple a tantalizing roll between her teeth before releasing it with a wet pop.

As Sevika's thick finger dips into you, coated in your slick arousal, you gasp and spread your legs wider around her. Her intense gaze never falters as she watches your face intently. Her other hand soothingly rubs your thigh as she whispers in your ear. "You’re gorgeous, angel." She whispers, planting a series of soft kisses along your jaw. "So pretty spread out for me."

Every touch and whisper from Sevika's lips sends a shiver down your spine. You force yourself to relax into her ministrations, letting go as she circles your clit with her thumb. The rough pad leaves you moaning and clawing at her shirt.

"That's it, angel." Sevika encourages, adding another finger and curling them both inside you. "You sound so pretty and I wanna hear more. Will you give me more?" Her husky voice rumbles through your chest and you nod eagerly.

Speaking past a pleasured cry, your voice warbles with need. “Need more Vika. Wanna see you.” With shaky fingers, you reach for the hem of her shirt and lift it.

Sevika chuckles, a deep, throaty sound that sends another wave of heat through you. She withdraws her fingers, eliciting a whine from you. But your disappointment is short-lived as she swiftly rips her shirt open, revealing taut muscles and her soft breasts. A white bandage wraps around her stomach and some of your lust fades as you stare at it.

"Better?" She purrs, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You feel her hands pulling your pants down your legs, the cool air hitting your skin as your panties fall with them.

Pausing, you press your hands to her chest. “Wait, Sevika. Your stomach. Should we be doing this?” You ask, concerned.

Bending to leave wet kisses on your neck, she mumbles. “I’m fine, angel. Don’t worry about me.”

Sevika’s fingers return to their place in your warmth while her lips find yours. She inhales the surprised gasp that falls from your tongue. She consumes every muffled gasp, every desperate moan.

Your hands roam over her skin, careful of her wound, tracing the lines of her muscles and the curves of her body. She shivers under your touch, breaking the kiss to let out a soft moan as your breasts rub against hers.

With a wet peck to your cheek, Sevika lowers herself between your legs and your hands reluctantly fall from her skin. Rising on your elbows, you watch as she trails kisses down your stomach before her mouth reaches your core. Her eyes darken at the sight and scent of you, and she growls softly before delving into you with her tongue. The sound reverberates through you, and she groans.

Your head rolls back, mouth falling open in a silent plea as you grind against Sevika. Your core clenches at the wet sounds of Sevika's fingers moving inside you.

A sharp intake of breath escapes your lips as she roughly shoves her fingers into you, causing you to yelp in surprise. Your head whips towards her, eyes wide and pleading as she stills. With a harsh suck, she parts from your throbbing clit, her voice a breathy rasp. “Watch.” She demands.

Tears cloud your eyes as you nod, your arms trembling. Her dark eyes gleam with satisfaction as she flicks her tongue out with a harsh lick and a smirk playing on her lips. “Good girl."

“Please, Sevika.” You shakily beg.

Sevika pulls you closer, her arm wrapping around your thigh as she brings you deeper into her mouth. Her warm tongue flattens against your clit as her thick fingers curl inside you with each thrust. Your moans blend with her satisfied groans and skin slapping against skin.

“You taste heavenly, angel.” She praises before diving back into you.

Your hand tightens around hers on your thigh, while the other twists and pulls at her hair. Your body curls, every muscle tensing as a deep, guttural moan escapes your lips. “S’vika!”

As you approach your peak, drool trails down the corner of your lips. Your eyes water as you struggle to keep them open, finding yourself powerless against Sevika's intense grey gaze that holds you hostage as she watches you.

With one hand clenched tightly around both of your fumbling hands, Sevika's fingers continue to twist inside you. Her tongue continues its relentless movements without faltering or slowing down at your cries.

Overwhelmed, you whine. “Vika, I can’t.”

Your trembling thighs tighten around her head as she pulls her slick fingers from your body. Her glistening fingers fall to your thigh as she hungrily devours you, running her tongue up your slit before filling you. Sevika eagerly drinks every drop you have to offer, her mouth a wet and sloppy mess on your core. You can feel the pressure mounting within you again.

Sevika's mouth licks and sucks at your pussy, pushing you towards a second climax. You're teetering on the edge, your hands clawing against her restrictive hand as your breasts heave with each panting breath.

"Sevika, please." You gasp, your voice hoarse and desperate. "I can't take anymore." You sob.

But she doesn't let up, her gaze ravenous as she continues her ministrations. You feel yourself climbing higher and higher, your muscles tensing as the pressure builds.

With a light drag of her teeth on your sensitive nub, you're sent hurtling over the edge. A strangled cry tears from your throat as your back arches off the blanket. Your vision goes white as waves of pleasure crash over you, more intense than before.

Sevika works you through your orgasm, her movements gentler now as she eases you down from your high.

With one final swallow, she rises up and licks her shimmering lips, a satisfied smile on her face. Your entire body is still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasms and your eyes dilate as she thrusts her fingers into her mouth. Letting out a deep groan, her eyelids flutter as she savors the taste of you on her tongue.

Reaching for your chin, she grasps your cheeks tightly and pulls your mouth open. You instinctively outstretch your tongue.

She drops a mixture of your essence and her saliva onto your waiting tongue, watching intently as it gathers on the pink of your tongue. With a rough shake of your chin, she mumbles darkly. “Swallow, angel.”

The feeling of her touch sends shivers down your spine as you comply with her demand. She grunts, eyes falling down to your throat as you swallow, rubbing her slick thumb over your lips roughly before withdrawing her hand.

Sevika collapses beside you, pulling you into her arms. You curl into her warmth, your body still trembling slightly. She presses soft kisses to your forehead, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin.

"You okay, angel?" She murmurs, her voice tender.

You nod, nuzzling into her neck. "More than okay." You whisper. "That was… Thank you."

"You did so well, angel." She says, tilting your chin up to look at her. Her silver eyes are soft as they roam your face. "So perfect for me."

A blush creeps up your cheeks at her words. You lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “You’re awful good with your hands, cowboy.” You murmur against her mouth.

Sevika chuckles, her body shaking beneath you as looks at you in amusement. "Just my hands?" She smirks, a teasing glint in her eyes.

A playful glint sparks in your eyes as you roll them, but your grin only grows wider. Your thumb traces over her plump lips, eliciting a flicker of her tongue against the soft pad. “Maybe your mouth has its uses too.” You purr, teasingly.

"Well, I’m yours to use and put to work, angel." She winks before capturing your lips again, claiming your mouth as sloppily as she did your pussy.

Brushing a thumb over her pebbled nipple, you slowly draw a line down her stomach, tracing the curve of her body. As you reach for the button of her pants, her hand stops you, halting your movements.You feel a twinge of embarrassment, thinking that maybe she doesn't want you to pleasure her in return.

Sensing your embarrassment, she gently lifts your face by your chin and meets your eyes with a soft smile. “As much as I want you angel, this was about you. You can take care of me some other time, hmm?”

You bite down a giddy smile. “Another time?” You say shyly.

She lets out a scoff and leans back, tugging you with her until you're lying on top of her. Her hand rests on the small of your back, pulling you closer to her body.

“Yeah, another time… What? Did you think that once was good enough for me angel?” Her chest puffs underneath you. “Told you, angel. You’re mine. You taste heavenly. And I don’t plan on giving that up anytime soon.”

You press a kiss to her neck with a pleased grin. Snuggling even closer to her, your fingers trace delicate patterns on the soft skin just below her breast.

Her grip tightens and she gives you a light squeeze. “You effectively reassured now, angel, or do I need to whisper some more sweet nothin’s?” She sounds equally condescending and caring.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, followed by a cocky shrug. “Wouldn’t hurt to hear how sweet and perfect and heavenly I am.” You mumble with a smirk that more closely resembles a gleeful beam.

Sevika's lips curl up into an amused simper. “Oh, it’d hurt plenty. As sweet as you are, seems the more I tell you, the brattier you get. Wouldn’t want to spoil you.”

With an incredulous gasp, you lift your head. “Bratty? I am not bratty nor spoiled cowboy.” You protest, trying to sound indignant but failing miserably as a mischievous grin spreads across your face. “I am perfectly humble and grounded.”

Before you can argue further, her hand comes down with a sharp smack on your bare ass. A yelp escapes your lips as a flush creeps over your skin.

“Maybe you’re just perfect for everyone else, angel, but on our way over here, you were anything but. Used my hand to get off, angel, right out in the open.” She rasps out teasingly.

With a playful tap on your backside, she begins to knead it beneath her palm. “But we can do that later, right, angel? We have plenty of time to work on your manners.” Your body shivers in response and you nervously lick your lips before nodding. “Good girl.” She mumbles against the crown of your head.

As you both lay in each other's embrace, the outside world begins to invade your peaceful bubble.

Fiddling with her finger, you frown as you look up at her. “I- I don’t wanna hide this but my mama…” Your voice trails off as you swallow the lump in your throat, speaking in a whisper. “I think she knows, but she’s ignorin’ it. Just hopin’ that it’ll go away.” You say stiffly.

Pressing your face into Sevika’s skin, you let her scent, her touch, comfort you. “That’s- that’s one of the reasons I’ve been such a cunt to her. Cause it feels like she wants me to be different. Like she’ll only love me until she can’t ignore it anymore. Until I don’t let her ignore it.”

Smoothing a hand over your back, her voice is steady in promise. “Well, I’ll be here with you either way.”

You nod against Sevika's skin, comforted by her words but still anxious. "Thank you." You murmur softly. "I just… I don't know how to tell her."

Sevika's hand continues its soothing motions. "We'll figure it out together, angel. There's no rush. We can take it slow, tell her when you're ready."

You lift your head to meet her eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Together, huh?"

She nods, her silver eyes soft but determined. "Together."

As the sun dips lower in the sky, you snuggle closer to Sevika's body heat. "We should probably start headin’ back." You say reluctantly with a sigh, pushing yourself to your feet.

Sevika watches you slowly dress, her hand propped up behind her head. A smile tugs at her lips as she sends you small glances and laughs when you roll your eyes while pulling on your shirt.

“You know, you’re a real bad influence.” You playfully scold her. “Made me miss a whole day of work.”

Chuckling, she sits up and puts on her own shirt. “A bad influence, huh? Didn’t hear you complainin’ much when you were cummin’ on my fingers, angel.”

With a gentle hand on your calf, she pulls you towards her. Lifting the hem of your shirt, she trails kisses along your navel. You resist the growing hunger inside of you and instead press your hands to her cheeks. Tipping her face up, you give her a pointed look at her roguish smirk.

Licking your lips, you place a chaste kiss on her nose. “Easy cowboy. Wasn’t complainin’. I like your influence on me… Can’t wait to return the favor.”

Pressing a thumb to her bottom lip, you give her a light peck. “Can’t wait to taste you. To hear your pretty sounds while you ride my tongue.” Pulling away, you send her a heated smirk as you turn. “How’s that phrase go, ‘Save A Horse’…”

Your teasing words leave Sevika momentarily speechless, her eyes darkening with desire. She quickly recovers, a low chuckle rumbling in her chest as she stands and pulls you back against her.

"Careful, angel." She murmurs in your ear, her hands roaming your sides. "Keep talkin' like that and we might not make it back to the ranch."

You lean into her touch, tempted to give in to the heat building between you once again. But the fading light reminds you of your responsibilities back home.

With a tempted grunt, you turn in Sevika's arms and press a soft kiss to her lips. "As much as I'd love to stay out here with you all night, we better head back before my mama sends out a search party."

Sevika chuckles, snatching up the blanket and intertwining her fingers with yours as you walk back to the horse. "Wouldn't want that. Though I'm not sure how we'll explain why we were gone so long."

You bite your lip. "We'll think of something. Maybe we can say we were… exploring new grazing land for the animals?"

Sevika raises an eyebrow, smirking as she drops your hand. "Exploring, huh? That's one way to put it."

You playfully swat her arm, but can't help your giggle. "You’re right. I’ll just tell her that we were exploring each other’s supple and womanly bodies." Your sarcastically retort, helping her resecure the saddle.

As you both mount her stallion, you sigh leaning back into her. “I won’t tell her what we were doin’, but if she directly asks, I won’t deny it. I meant it when I said I don’t wanna hide this, hide you.”

Wrapping her arms around you, she grips the lead and presses her nose into the skin of your shoulder. She tries to disguise the emotion in her voice as you caress her forearms. “That’s good, angel, cause you look thoroughly fucked and I’m not sure how you’ll be able to hide it.”

A burst of laughter escapes your chest and you roll your head back on her shoulder. “Well can’t say I much mind looking ‘thoroughly fucked’ as you so eloquently put it.” Lowering your hand, you thread your fingers through hers.

As you approach the ranch, the sun has nearly set, casting long shadows across the fields. Your heart races with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. Sevika's presence behind you is comforting, her arms wrapped securely around your waist.

Slowly, your mother comes into view. Just a small blurred figure on the porch, but you can already feel the infuriated aura radiating off of her.

Releasing a breath of air in resignation, you mutter. “If you don’t wanna deal with her, then I’m fine bein’ dropped off here.”

Sevika scoffs and your head moves with the motion. “M’ not gonna make you walk.”

You roll your eyes. “You don’t nee-”

“‘Specially with the way your legs shook around me earlier.” She interrupts, rubbing her hands over the top of your thighs.

Sevika's teasing words make you flush with heat and you elbow her in the ribs, with a small smile.

"Go fuck yourself." You mutter, though there's no real bite to your words.

“Why do that when I have you to do it for me?” She retorts immediately. Shaking your head, you ignore her as you approach the house.

You can see your mother's figure more clearly on the porch. Her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, her foot tapping impatiently. The sight makes your stomach clench with anxiety.

Sevika must sense your tension because she gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. "It'll be alright, angel." She murmurs, her breath warm against your ear. "I'm right here with you."

You nod, taking a deep breath to steel yourself as Sevika brings the horse to a stop in front of the house. Sevika dismounts and you quickly do the same.

Your mother’s gaze follows every movement. Lingering on the way Sevika’s hands gently steady you as you step down, hovering around your waist before falling away. Her eyes narrow on the soft smile that you send the taller woman. Sharpen into a glare as you step into the light, revealing your disheveled appearance.

"Where have you two been?" She demands, her voice sharp with worry and anger.

Already exhausted, you sigh out. “Why? Did you need me here to run your ranch?”

Ignoring your thinly veiled jab, she continues. "I almost sent someone out lookin’ for you!"

A soothing warmth radiates from Sevika's presence behind you, dispelling the lingering anxieties and fears within. “Well I’m glad you didn’t mama.” You sigh out. Turning to face Sevika, you chew on your lip.

Sevika observes you in silence, her expression growing pleasantly surprised as your hands gently frame her face.

With a sudden burst of courage, you rise on your toes and plant a short but sweet kiss on her lips. The radiant glow on your face is almost blinding as you smile, whispering to her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Sevika's eyes search your face for any signs of hesitation, but finding none, she nods, sending your mother a glare. Slowly, she makes her way towards her stallion and begins walking towards the stables.

Inhaling deeply, you face your mother with a mix of determination and nervousness. Your mother's face cycles through a range of emotions - shock, confusion, and finally, a flicker of understanding. Her eyes dart between you and the stables, her brow furrowed.

"Mama." You begin, your voice steady despite the trembling in your hands. "I know this isn't what you wanted for me. But, quite frankly, I don’t give a shit.”

You wave your hands in emphasis. “Sevika… she makes me happy. Happier than I've ever been."

Your mother's mouth opens and closes, no words coming out. You take advantage of her silence to continue. "I'm not askin' for your approval. I'm just askin'- tellin’ you to stop ignorin’ it. To see me for who I am, not who you want me to be."

Your mother's lips press into a thin line, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "How long?" She finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's new. Like today new." You admit. "But my feelings… they've always been there. Not just for Sevika, but for women in general…"

You lean onto the porch railing, your eyes searching hers. “And I think you’ve known that for a while.”

A heavy silence falls over the porch. You can hear the distant sound of crickets chirping and frogs croaking fills the air. Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to be consumed by the calmness of the night.

Her voice breaks the stillness, raw with emotion. “I want grandkids.” She croaks.

Dropping your head, a shaky laugh escapes your lips. “And I want kids. But it’s too soon to know if it’d be with Sevika.”

She covers her mouth with trembling hands as she stifles a sob. “I-I love you.” She chokes out between tears. “And I’m gonna try. I want to try.”

She shakes as she wraps her arms tighter around herself. “I’m so sorry.”

You silently watch her curl into herself, not reaching out a comforting hand. The softness in your voice matches the firmness of your words. “I love you too… And while I really wish it wasn’t this hard for you, wish that you didn’t feel sorry for who I am attracted to… I appreciate you trying.” Releasing a heavy breath, you tap the wooden rail and turn to walk away.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. For-for not being there, for not being a mom.” Her voice cracks and you pause, your hand resting on the doorknob.

You don't turn back, but nod in acknowledgement, eyes briefly glancing down at the ground. Letting out a sigh, you twist the doorknob and leave her with her thoughts.

The early morning sun filters through your bedroom window, casting a warm glow across your face. You stretch lazily, a content smile spreading on your face.

You’re fucking gay.

It feels freeing to admit it. The weight that had been pressing on your chest for so long has finally lifted. The past week with Sevika has filled you with a newfound sense of freedom and joy.

As you dress, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. There's a brightness in your eyes that wasn't there before, a confidence in the way you carry yourself.

Heading downstairs, you find your mother already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. There's still a tension in the air between you, but it's different now - less suffocating, more like the growing pains of a relationship in transition.

"Mornin', mama." You greet steadily.

As you look up at her, you notice the redness in her eyes. She responds softly, with a hint of strain in her voice. “Mornin’.”

Your stomach grumbles as you eye the toast and strips of bacon on the table. You can't help but sneak a slice and a few strips before she swats at your hand. With a grunt, you shovel the food into your mouth.

“See y’later.” You manage to muffle through a mouthful of food.

You hear her grumble in disgust as you rush out the front door. Excitedly making your way to the stables, you begin unlocking the stall doors connected to the horse pasture. Each lock softly clicks open and the horses trot out of their stalls.

Honey is waiting patiently in her stall, her soft brown eyes watching you with anticipation. You press your forehead against hers, enjoying the tickle of her mane against your nose.

“How you feelin’ girl?” She responds with a huff and nudges you affectionately. “Alright, you wanna go for a ride?” Laughing, you take a step back from her.

Strong arms envelop you, pulling you into a tight embrace. Startled, you let out a yelp as you're twirled around in a circle. Finally coming to a stop, you lean back into the warmth behind you and catch your breath. “I’d love to go for a ride too, angel.” She whispers in your ear, voice still gravelly with sleep.

Giggling, you swat at her before spinning around to face her. You quickly press a kiss to her plush lips and she follows as you lean back, readjusting your hat. Her arms tighten around your body, pulling you closer to her chest while her own hat sits loosely on top of her head.

“Good mornin’ gorgeous.” You greet her with a grin.

Sevika’s eyes narrow on you. “Mornin’.” Drawing a line on your face with the tip of her nose, she huffs. “What kinda kiss was that angel?” She mumbles discontentedly into your cheek.

Removing your hat, you wrap your arms around Sevika's neck and cover her lips with your own. She lets out a satisfied grunt as her hands wander down to squeeze your rear. Tracing her bottom lip with your tongue, you tilt your head to deepen the kiss.

Sevika lifts you effortlessly, her strong arms gripping your thighs as she presses your back against the wall. You moan as her big hands engulf and knead your ass. Your hats float to the ground, forgotten, as you run your fingers through her silky hair.

You gasp for air as she breaks away from you, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your throat until she reaches your chest. Her hips grind into yours, and your thighs tighten around her. Pulling her hair and she separated from your skin with a wet smack. Moaning, you flatten your tongue on her neck. She groans as you nibble and suck on the sensitive skin.

The sound of awkward shuffling feet and throat clearing breaks through the passionate haze. Both of you turn to see a group of ranch hands standing at the entrance to the stables, their eyes wide and faces flushed with embarrassment. Each one looks anywhere but directly at you two entangled in each other.

With a soft sigh, Sevika slowly releases her hold on you and takes a step back. You linger on the wall and roll your eyes at the unmoving ranch hands nearby. Dusting off your hats, Sevika gently places your hat on your head before adjusting her own.

Resuming your task of saddling Honey, you playfully tap Sevika's ass as you pass her. “Ready to ride, cowboy?”

She returns your mischievous grin with a sly wink. “I’m always ready for a ride, angel.”

Saddling your horses side by side, you exchange flirty glances. With a click of your tongue, you hop onto Honey's back.

“C’mon slowpoke.” You tease. “Would hate for your old ass to get left behind.”

Sevika rolls her eyes with a scoff. “My old ass?”

You give her a firm nod. “Remember when you passed out in my arms cause you were tired.”

Narrowing her eyes at you as she swings her leg over the saddle. “Do you mean when I was bleeding out?”

You shrug nonchalantly and scrunch your nose at her as you ride by. “Eh, same difference, cowboy.”

Shaking her head, she follows. “I was right. You’re a real brat, angel.”

“Easy, handsome.” You chuckle out. “Else I’d think you were startin’ to really like me.” With a smirk, you urge Honey faster and take off.

The wind rushes past you as you gallop ahead, Sevika hot on your heels. There’s a playful competitiveness between the two of you as you race down the dusty path.

Giggling, you slow your pace as a familiar set of trees comes into view.

Falling into place beside you, she leans toward you with a playful grin. Her vibrant silver eyes sparkle in the sunlight as she teases. “For the record, I more than just like you, angel.”

As a fuzzy feeling spreads through your stomach, you both move through the trees. The hidden garden is just as enchanting as it was the first time. Budding tulip flowers have begun sprouting among the bouquet of pink and orange wildflowers.

Swinging your leg around, your boots sink into the soft grass. As you reach for the extra blanket you brought, she watches you intently with a hunger in her eyes. You spread out the blanket and turn to face her, slowly starting to undress with a cocky brow.

Her gaze traces over your exposed skin hungrily as she leans forward on her saddle. “Y’know, I’m startin’ to think you just want me for my body, angel.”

Your smile grows wider at her words and you raise a skeptical brow. “And would that be so bad, cowboy?”

Sevika dismounts her horse in one fluid motion, her eyes never leaving yours. She stalks towards you with predatory grace, smirking. "Not bad at all, angel. But I think we both know it's more than that."

She pulls you flush against her body, her hands roaming over your exposed skin. You shiver at her touch, heat pooling in your core. You wrap your arms around her neck, fingers playing with the soft hair at the nape.

"Maybe." You tease, your lips brushing against hers as you speak. "But right now, I just wanna feel you."

Pressing a soft kiss on her bottom lip, your fingers work at the buttons of her shirt. “Taste you.“ You breathe.

Sevika chuckles, the sound low and husky. "Is that so?" Her hands slide down to your hips, squeezing the plush flesh.

Humming your affirmation, you trail kisses down her chest as you gently push her shirt down her shoulders. Sevika's breath catches in her throat and she smooths a hand over your hair as you lower to your knees, gazing at her beneath heavy eyelashes. Unbuttoning her pants, you pull them down with her underwear.

You take a moment to admire her, drinking in the sight of her toned legs and the neat patch of dark hair between her thighs. Licking your lips, you glance up at her with a mischievous smile. "Mind layin’ down for me, cowboy?"

Sevika's silver eyes darken as she nods, her voice husky with arousal. "Sure thing, angel."

She lowers herself onto the blanket. You eagerly move over her, your lips hungrily seeking hers. As your mouths meet, you can feel the quickening of her breath and the tremble of excitement in her lips. Deepening the kiss, you brush your nails through the soft curls between her legs.

Sevika gasps into your mouth as your fingers tease over her. You trail kisses down her neck, savoring the salty taste of her skin. Her hands tangle in your hair as you move lower, lavishing her breasts with attention. You swirl your tongue around a hardened nipple before taking it between your teeth.

A low moan escapes Sevika's throat. Her hips buck up, seeking friction. "Angel." She warns, her voice husky with need.

You smile against her skin, continuing your teasing descent. Pressing a soft kiss to her bandaged stomach, you settle between her legs. The scent of her arousal makes your mouth water.

You press soft kisses along her inner thighs, relishing in the way her muscles twitch beneath your lips. Her hand tangles in your hair, not forceful, just enough pressure to encourage you.

"You look so pretty, Sev." You purr, leaning in close enough that she can feel your warm breath against her sensitive flesh. "So perfect."

With a soft kiss to her mound, you spread her lips open and run your tongue along her slit. Sevika's breath hitches, her fingers tightening in your hair. You moan at the taste of her, your tongue messily exploring her folds.

Sevika's hips buck up against your mouth as you circle her clit with the tip of your tongue. Her thighs tremble on either side of your head. You look up at her through your lashes, drinking in the sight of her chest heaving with each panting breath.

"Fuck, angel." Sevika groans, her voice husky with need. "Just like that." Sevika encourages breathlessly, her hand gently guiding your movements.

Encouraged by her words, you increase the pressure of your tongue, alternating between broad strokes and quick flicks across her sensitive bud. You slip two fingers inside her wet heat, curling them in her like she did you. Your other hand falls to her thigh, holding her steady as you devour her.

Sevika lets out a low groan, her back arching off the blanket. Sevika's breathing grows more ragged, her moans increasing in volume. You can feel her muscles tensing beneath your touch.

"Can you show me those pretty eyes, Sev?" You ask, breaking away for just a moment. Sevika's silver eyes snap open, locking onto yours. The intensity of her gaze sends your own core flooding with need.

You maintain eye contact as you lower your mouth back to her core. You suck her clit between your lips, accidentally brushing the swollen bud with your teeth. She cries out in pleasure, her legs convulsing around you and her hand fisting your hair tightly.

You hum in understanding, the vibrations traveling through her body. You gently press your teeth into the sensitive bundle before soothing it with long, slow licks of your tongue. Adding another finger, you roughly thrust into her.

With a strangled cry, Sevika comes undone, tightening her legs and locking you in place. Her back arches off the blanket, her hand forcefully guiding your head into her core as she grinds herself against your face.

You continue your rough ministrations, teasing her until her grip begins to loosen. Her legs twitch open, releasing you. You press a soft kiss on her inner thigh before crawling up her body, savoring the feel of her skin against your own.

Sevika pulls you into a deep, languid kiss, her tongue tangling with yours. When you part, she's looking at you with a mixture of awe and affection.

"Fuck, angel…" Sevika trails off, still catching her breath.

A surge of pride swells within you at the sight of her trembling thighs. You can't help but grin in satisfaction. "So you like it a little rough, cowboy?”

Sevika chuckles, her chest still heaving slightly. "Seems like you do too, angel." Her hand trails down your skin, brushing her fingers through your soaked folds. "Don't think I didn't notice how loud, how wet, you got."

A blush creeps up your cheeks at her words, but you don't deny it. Instead, you press a soft kiss to her jaw. "Can you blame me? You taste so good, Sev."

Her silver eyes darken at your words. In one swift motion, she flips you onto your back, hovering over you. "My turn, angel." She growls, her voice husky with renewed desire.

Your breath catches in your throat as Sevika forcefully spreads your legs apart. She crosses her leg over yours, the heat of her skin radiating into yours. Her hand tightens around your leg, holding it in place as she lowers herself onto you. The sensation of her against you is like pure silk as she grinds your clits together.

A loud cry erupts from your throat as you throw your hands out to brace yourself, one hand landing on her bandaged stomach. Whimpering with pleasure, you bite down on your lip and glance between her dilated eyes. Swallowing down a moan, you apply slight pressure to the wound.

Her hips stutter above you and her movements become more erratic and urgent, her grip on your leg tightening to the point of bruising.

"Fuck, angel." She growls, her voice husky and strained. "You're playing with fire."

Sevika's eyes are dark and dilated with a mixture of pain and pleasure, her lips parted in a pant as she glances down at you. Her tousled hair falls around her face as she moves above you, her skin glistening with sweat.

“Maybe I like fire, Sev.” You whimper, your hips bucking up to meet hers. Your hand moves from her stomach to her hip, pulling her closer.

A predatory grin spreads across Sevika's face. She leans down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers. "Oh, I'm sure you do."

Her teeth graze your earlobe as she leans back. Her palm glides over your thigh, massaging the flesh before striking it.

A cry falls from your mouth as your nails dig into the skin of her hip. With a cocky smirk, she roughly grinds against you. You let out another sharp cry as she delivers another firm hit to your thigh.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as your core clenches. But just as quickly as the stinging sensation on your thigh appears, it’s soothed by her calloused palm, leaving behind a warm and tingly feeling. Struggling to maintain control, you grip the blanket beneath you tightly with your free hand while your hips continue to buck and writhe against hers.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps. The pressure builds within you, coiling tighter and tighter with each roll of her hips. She drags her nails over the throbbing skin on your thigh.

"Sev, I'm so close." You whimper, your voice high and needy.

"You need my permission, baby?" She mocks arrogantly. Grinning sharpy at you, she growls. “Cum for me, angel.”

Despite her teasing, her words push you over the edge. Your hands claw at her thigh and your vision blurs in a haze of tears as waves of pleasure crash over you. Sevika follows shortly after, her body shuddering above you, grunting out your name.

She collapses on top of you, both of you panting heavily. You wrap your arms around her, relishing in the weight of her body against yours. For a moment, you just lay there, heads pressed together, basking in the afterglow.

The humid air is thick with the heavy, musky scent of sex and sweat, a heady combination that mixes with the sweet, floral aroma of the surrounding flowers.

Swallowing, you perk up. “Come to the Saloon with me tomorrow.” You pant out.

Your breath stutters in your chest as you bite your lip. She looks beautiful, in her element. Her usually tense muscles are relaxed as she leans back against the seat, one toned arm casually resting on the back of it. The other hand hovers over her cards.

Your eyes follow the slender cigar pressed between her lips, smoke billowing from the corners of her mouth with each exhale. She inhales, her chest puffing out slightly with a small scoff.

The sight of her bare stomach peeking out from under her shirt makes your teeth clench over your lip even harder as you lean back against the rough wooden texture of the bar.

“You’re droolin’.” A deep voice interrupts your thoughts with a chuckle, followed by the sound of liquid pouring into a glass.

“Got a problem with that, Van?” You mumble tensely, still unable to tear your eyes away from her.

Sliding two glasses towards you, he scoffs. “Not at all, kid. Watchin’ you chase after that woman is entertaining.”

You turn to him and press your elbows into the worn wood of the bar. “I’ve done more than chase, old man.” You retort with a playful smirk, the tension in your body slowly easing.

Your smirk fades into a more genuine expression. You trace the grain of the counter with your fingertips as you continue in a whisper. “Thank you… For never treatin’ me differently.”

Vander's thick eyebrows knit together, creating a deep crease on his scruffy face as he lowers his gaze. A flash of sorrow flickers across his features before he quickly hides it and starts drying a glass. “You don’t need to thank me for that, kid… M’ not doin’ anything special.”

Exhaling a disappointed breath, you speak softly. “Wish that was true, Van. I really, really wish that was true.”

Downing the amber liquid in your glass, you carefully slide it back towards Vander with a light tap. He slowly pours more into the glass, clearing his throat and avoiding direct eye contact with you.

“You’re mum’s not talked to you then? I mean, you’ve uh- you’re bein’ safe, right?” He asks awkwardly, his voice filled with concern. He flashes you an uncomfortable, almost fatherly smile. “Diseases are-”

“Oh my god.” You gasp, your eyes bulging in shock. “Please don’t do this. The last thing I wanna talk about right now are sexual diseases before I have sex.” Your heart races and your stomach churns as you stare at him in disbelief.

He lets out a snort, his broad shoulders visibly relaxing. "Fine. I’ll leave you be, kid." He says, almost sounding relieved. “Just be safe.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing a glass in each hand. “I hope Felicia’s the one to give the kids the ‘talk’.” You pause, chuckling. “Cause whatever the start of that was, was fucking awful.” With an amused smile, you raise a glass in farewell before walking away. You can hear his deep chuckle following you.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you take slow steps towards Sevika's table.

“-cures all kinds of pain. Bruises. Sore throat. Animal bites. The poss-” Wincing, you tip-toe around Singed as he pulls another patron into his oil sales pitch.

The noise of the crowded bar surrounds you as you weave between tables, trying to keep your balance on the uneven floor. As you step closer, you find yourself pausing.

Your eyes trail over her toned legs, perfectly displayed under the table, until they land on her core - hidden beneath the fabric of her tight jeans. A rush of desire floods through you and your mouth waters, you tilt your head letting out a heavy breath.

But before you can fully lose yourself, Sevika's amused and cocky voice breaks your daze. “Plannin’ on standin’ there all day, angel?”

Darting your eyes to her competitors, you send her an innocent smile and shrug. “Can’t help the way you stop me in my boots, cowboy.” You gently set the glasses on the table.

She reaches out and her fingers gripping the fabric of your skirt, pulling you onto her lap. “Aww, you just might make me blush angel.”

The two men sitting across the table from her are tense, their bodies rigid and their eyes fixated on the cards in front of them. You observe them with a sense of detached amusement, tilting your head in faux confusion.

“Tell me Sevika.” You begin casually. “I don’t really play poker, but isn’t part of the game observin’ your opponents? Callin’ their bluffs?”

Sevika, with her thick brows raised, glances between the men and then back to you with her silver eyes. “It is.” Staging a whisper, she nips at your chin. “But they aren’t very good, angel.”

You cast a quick glance at the cards and the table before turning back to Sevika with a smirk of your own. “Yah know?” You muse. “When I asked you to come with me to the bar, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

A plume of smoke escapes Sevika's lips as she blows out a cloud of it, her expression teasing. “And what did you mean, angel?” She mumbles, her tone suggestive and playful.

You shrug, leaning back into her. "I dunno." You say with a twinkle in your eye. "Maybe dancin’."

With a casual flick of her wrist, she tosses a few chips onto the pile. Her movements are smooth and confident, exuding a sense of self-assurance. “I don’t do much dancin’, darlin’.” She remarks nonchalantly.

Lowering your lashes and giving her your best smile, you reply in a sugary-sweet tone. “Not even for little ol’ me, cowboy?”

A devilish glint flashes in her eyes as she shakes her head. "Not even for you." She confirms, turning her attention back to the game at hand.

Groaning, you fiddle with her free hand, quickly growing bored. The game drags on, and you find your attention wandering. Your eyes roam the crowded bar, taking in the lively atmosphere.

Suddenly, an idea strikes you. With a mischievous grin, you lean in close to Sevika's ear. "Fine, if you won't dance with me, maybe I'll find someone else who will." You whisper teasingly.

Sevika's hand tightens on your hip, her silver eyes flashing with a mixture of amusement and possessiveness. "Is that so, angel?" She murmurs, her voice low and husky.

You nod, your smile widening. "Mhmm. I'm sure there's plenty of folks here who'd love to dance with me." You make a show of looking around the room, as if searching for a potential dance partner.

Feigning a noise of interest, you nod lazily into the distance. With delicate fingers, you pluck the cigar from Sevika's lips and place it between your own, taking a slow drag. Giving her a quick peck on the lips, you gently return the cigar to its rightful place and slide off of her lap.

“Looks like I found someone, so don’t wait up, cowboy.” You tease, patting her shoulder in goodbye. She snatches your hand and pulls you back into her lap.

Sevika's piercing eyes narrow on you, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she absentmindedly throws her cards down onto the table. The sound of groans and curses fills the air.

Rolling her eyes with a sigh, Sevika stubs out her cigar and gestures towards the jukebox. “Find a good song, angel.” She says in a defeated husk.

With an satisfied giggle, you wrap your arms around Sevika's neck and press a soft kiss to her cheek. The worn floorboards creak under your feet as you skip over to the jukebox, excitement bubbling in your chest.

Your fingers trail over the selection of songs, searching for the perfect one. A slow smile spreads across your face as you spot a familiar title.

The opening notes of "Save A Horse, Ride A Cowgirl" fill the air as you turn back to Sevika. She's watching you with a mixture of amusement and affection, her silver eyes soft in the dim light of the bar.

You extend your hand to her, wiggling your fingers with a grin on your face. "May I have this dance, cowboy?"

Sevika rolls her eyes, but there's no real annoyance behind it. She takes your hand, her grip firm and warm. "I suppose, angel." She drawls, letting you lead her to a small clear space near the jukebox.

As you step onto the makeshift dance floor, Sevika's arm wraps around your waist, holding you close. Her other hand intertwines with yours.

She twirls you around, and the flowy skirts of your dress billow out like wings. Your laughter rings through the air as you both move to your own rhythm. Sevika's grin widens as she looks down at you, her eyes shining.

As you and Sevika sway together, lost in your own world, the atmosphere in the bar begins to shift. The music fades into the background as hushed whispers and pointed stares fill the air.

You're vaguely aware of the change, but you can't bring yourself to care. Not when Sevika is looking at you like that, her silver eyes soft and veiled in something all-consuming. Her hand is warm and solid on your waist.

"See? Dancing isn't so bad." You tease, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sevika chuckles, the sound rumbling through her chest. "I suppose not, angel. Not with you, at least."

The song comes to an end, but neither of you make a move to separate. Instead, Sevika pulls you closer, her forehead resting against yours. Your hand gently sweeps across her collarbone, tracing the delicate curve of her neck. Your fingers linger on the leather around her neck.

Your hand flattens on her collarbone and you finger at the leather around her neck. “I really like this. Looks good on you.” You mumble.

Sevika's eyes meet yours, and she pecks your nose before pressing her lips against your forehead. She hums, her breath warm against your skin.

Nestled against her warm body, you gently lay your head on her chest and hook your arms around her back. She does the same, holding you close and resting her cheek on your head.

With each gentle rock, a powerful emotion begins to swell in your chest, making it hard to swallow. It's a feeling that you can't quite put into words yet, but it feels overwhelming and intense. Considering the short amount of time you have spent together, it seems almost impossible for this emotion to be so strong.

But as she holds you tight and you feel her warmth seeping into your bones, you know that it doesn't matter how much time has passed.

You lo-

The heavy wooden doors of the Saloon slam closed with a resounding thud, causing heads to turn towards the entrance. A hush falls over the crowd as they stare at the unexpected intruder.

John.

He saunters in with a casual confidence, his sharp smile oozing with malice as he glances at you and Sevika. His disfigured face, still marred with shades of yellow and green and covered in grime, is repulsive.

Sevika tenses under your palms and you smooth your hands over her shoulders as your eyes cautiously follow John. Seething rage bubbles under your skin at the audacity of the man.

Vander stands stiffly behind the bar, his features hardening as John slowly approaches and takes a seat on a bar stool. Everyone watches, holding their breath as John silently taps his fingers on the counter in front of him.

Vander straightens, his muscles flexing as he wipes his hands on a towel and flings it over his shoulder. His voice is cold as he speaks. “You’re not welcome here.”

John's lips curl into a sneer as he leans forward, his voice dripping with disdain. "That's not very kind of you, Vander. I'm just here for a drink."

The tension in the room is palpable as Vander's jaw clenches. His eyes flick briefly to you and Sevika before returning to John. "I said, you're not welcome. Leave. Now."

John's gaze follows Vander's, landing on you and Sevika. His eyes narrow on your close proximity. "Well, well. Looks like the rumors are true after all." He drawls, his voice laced with disgust.

Sevika's arm tightens around you protectively as she turns to face John, her body partially shielding you. "You got a problem?" She growls, her voice low and threatening. “I’m not sure you’re in the kinda state to be pickin’ fights, boy.”

John stands. The remnants of spit cling to the corners of his cracked lips as he cackles, his laughter echoing off the walls. With a gnarled hand, he wipes away a tear from his crusted face, revealing beady eyes that sparkle with madness. As he stares at you, a twisted grin spreads across his face.

His voice drips with false sweetness, like honey laced with poison. “How’s the ranch doin’?” He pauses, feigning a look of concern.

His gaze moves around the room, taking in every anxious face. "No disasters while I was away, I hope?" A sinister undertone seeps into his words as his leer returns to you. “I’d hate it if somethin’ happened to you.”

Your blood runs cold at John's thinly veiled threat. You feel Sevika's muscles tense beneath your hands as she moves you behind her.

"That sounds an awful lot like a threat." Sevika growls, her voice low and dangerous. Her grey eyes flash with anger as she stares John down.

John holds up his hands in mock innocence, that cruel smile still lingering on his lips. "Just expressing concern for an old friend. No threat intended."

You place a steadying hand on Sevika's arm, feeling the trembling rage in her body.

"The ranch is just fine." You say, your voice cold but steady. "No thanks to you."

John's eyes narrow dangerously, darting between you and Sevika. "Is that so?" He snickers. "Well, accidents can happen so easily on a ranch. Animals die, fences break, fires start…"

"That's enough." Vander's deep voice booms through the room. He steps out from behind the bar, his imposing figure radiating authority. "I won't ask again. Leave."

John's eyes dart between you, Sevika, and Vander. For a moment, it seems like he might back down. But then his face twists into an ugly sneer.

"Or what?" he spits. "You gonna throw me out, old man?"

In a flash, Sevika moves. Before you can even blink, she's across the room, her hand wrapped around John's hair. She slams his cheek into the bar, glasses clinking as she leans into his ear.

You purse your lips in confusion as you glance between her and Vander's face. She leans in, whispering something into John's ear. Seemingly finished, Sevika turns her attention to Vander. They exchange hushed words, their eyes flickering towards you before Vander nods.

Sevika's features contort into a look of disgust as she glances down at the crumpled man on the ground. She turns and extends her hand towards you. Without hesitation, you grab it and she leads you out of the Saloon and into the cool night air.

Untying the reins with steady hands, she carefully mounts her horse. The leather of the saddle creaks as she leans down to you, extending a hand to lift you up. She secures her arms around you as you sit sideways in her lap.

As the horse carries you both through the dark night, the only sounds are the steady beat of hooves on dirt and the occasional whisper of wind through the trees. She leans forward, softly rubbing her hand along your back, offering comfort and reassurance.

The porch light comes into view, the dim glow fighting against the darkness of the night. As Sevika slows the horse to a stop, she gently lowers you to the ground. “Head inside, I’ll be right behind you angel.”

A heavy lump forms in your throat as you stumble through the house, barely registering the familiar creaks and sighs of the old wooden floors. With each step, it feels like your feet are weighed down, dragging on the floor as you trudge up the stairs and into your room. The walls seem to blur as tears fill your eyes, blurring your vision and making you feel like you're walking through a dream. Finally, you reach your room, collapsing onto your bed with a heavy thud.

As you lay down on your side, Sevika joins you a minute later. Slowly toeing off her boots, she lays back, turning to face you, her body mirroring yours as she rests on her side.

Your eyes meet Sevika's, searching her face for answers. Her silver gaze is soft but concerned as she reaches out to brush a stray hair from your cheek.

"You okay, angel?" She asks gently, her voice barely above a whisper.

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. "I… I don't know." You admit, your words shaky. "I'm scared, Sev. What if he… I- what if something happens to the ranch? To you or mama?"

Sevika pulls you closer and you bury your face in her chest, inhaling her comforting scent. "Nothing's gonna happen." She murmurs, her voice low and soothing.

You look up at her, your eyes shining with unshed tears. "How can you be sure?"

Sevika's jaw clenches, a determined look in her eyes. "Because I won’t let it. I’ll be here with you.”

“Promise?” Glancing through the window, you whisper, your voice quivering with emotion as you grasp her hand tightly, afraid to let go.

She meets your gaze and nods, her eyes shining with sincerity. “I promise, angel.”

“Do you wanna stay here tonight? Just- just to sleep.” You ask tentatively.

She lifts your intertwined hands, kissing your palm softly. “Of course, angel. It’d be my pleasure.”

You send her a grateful smile, sinking deeper into her in relief.

With a groan, Sevika blinks away the hazy remnants of sleep. Her skin prickles with goosebumps as she shivers. Every hair on her body stands at attention, her senses alerting her to some sort of danger. Glancing around in the dark, she slowly moves out of bed, adjusting her pillow underneath your head.

Glancing back at you, she cautiously makes her way to the window and gingerly pulls back the curtain with a single finger, peering out. Sevika's eyes narrow as she scans the darkened landscape outside. The moon casts an eerie glow over the fields, creating long shadows that dance in the gentle breeze. At first, nothing seems out of place. But then, there’s a rustle in the trees.

A figure, barely visible in the dim light, darts between the shadows of the fence and the nearby trees. Sevika's jaw clenches as she watches the intruder creep closer.

Without hesitation, she moves swiftly and silently across the room. She pauses at the bedside, her eyes softening as they land on your sleeping form. Leaning down, she presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before straightening up. Her expression hardens with determination and she checks the rounds in her revolver.

The chamber clicks closed as she makes her way downstairs, her footsteps silent on the old wooden floors.

Sevika doesn't bother disguising herself amongst the shadows. She wants him to see her coming. She wants him to run.

And run he does.

His beady eyes bulge and his squirrely face contorts with terror as he scurries into the dense forest. Decaying leaves crackle under his feet, branches reaching out and clawing at his face as he runs.

Sevika effortlessly chases after him, her long strides closing the distance between them in no time.

Grabbing a hold of his shirt, she violently yanks him back and throws him to the ground. Scratching her nose, she chuckles darkly. “I told you to stay away. To leave.”

He struggles to get up on all fours, but Sevika forcefully kicks him in the side. He rolls over from the impact and she digs her boot into his stomach. He gasps for air, wheezes whistling past his gritted teeth. “But I’m real fuckin’ glad you didn’t.”

She rolls her neck, savoring the satisfying crackle as she watches him struggle to speak between choked breaths. A sardonic smirk crosses her lips as she watches him glance at the gun holstered on her hip. “You gonna shoot me?” He croaks.

With a scoff, she shakes her head mockingly. “No… That would be too easy.” Slowly advancing on him, she lets her words hang in the air for a moment. “You don’t deserve easy.” She grits out, pressing the weight of her boot into his throat.

Her eyes gleam with a cold intensity as she revels in his desperation and fear. Just as his face grows purple, she relieves the pressure.

John gasps and coughs, desperately sucking in air. Sevika watches him dispassionately.

"You really thought you could come here and threaten them?" Sevika's voice is low and dangerous. "Thought you could scare them?"

John's attempts to speak are cut short as Sevika leans down, her fingers digging into his shirt. Her other hand curls into a fist, and meets his mouth in a punch that rattles his teeth.

"Did you think I lied when I told you I’d kill you if you came back?" She spits. "I know you’re a fucking idiot, but did you think that tryin’ to call my bluff was a good idea?"

Another blow lands on John's cheek.

“They’re coming.” He manages to gargle through a mouthful of blood.

Sevika pauses, her fist hovering in the air. “What?” She pants.

John coughs out a laugh, blood bubbling and dripping down his chin. Sevika releases her grip on his shirt in disgust, watching him writhe on the ground.

Flashing her a red stained smile, his swollen eyes fill with satisfaction as he glances down at her hands. “Seems like you’ve got more than just my blood on your hands… and a lotta people want you for it.”

Her nose flares and she licks her teeth in anger. Her fist clenches at her side, knuckles white with tension.

In a flash, Sevika's hand is around his throat, lifting him slightly off the ground. Her silver eyes blaze with a cold fury as she leans in close, her grip unyielding. “You’re pathetic. Can’t fight your own battles, so you have to tattle to someone who can.” She hisses, her voice like ice. “If they’re already on the way, what’s the harm in killing you?” She snickers.

He struggles to speak against Sevika's iron grip. "Go to hell." He chokes out, a flash of silver glinting in his hand.

But before he can strike, Sevika raises her arm and effortlessly redirects the knife, its sharp edge burying itself in his throat. She steps back, observing the blood splattered on her shirt with detached annoyance.

John gurgles and writhes on the ground, his hands futilely trying to contain the torrent of blood draining from his throat. The metallic scent of blood hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the earthy undertones of the forest.

Sevika watches in silence as John's desperate hand reaches out towards her before falling limply to the ground.

Her throat constricts as she takes in the overwhelming sight of crimson pooling around her feet, her mind flashing back to the image of you, patiently waiting for her in bed.

…

Her mind races as she heads back to the house. She can't stay here, that much is clear. But leaving you behind…

As she enters the dimly lit bedroom, she finds you still curled up in bed, your messy hair framing your face. You’re awake, a patient smile on your lips as you wait for her. “Hey, cowboy. Where’d yah go?” You raise a lazy hand toward her, beckoning her to join you.

She slowly crawls into bed next to you, she pulls you into her side. Curling under her chin, you cross your leg over her.

Sevika swallows hard, her breath quickening. She holds your hand over her chest. “You make me happy, angel… And I…” Her voice trails off into a whisper, her grip tightening.

You furrow your brows, trying to turn and look at her, but her embrace prevents you from doing so. Uneasiness gnaws at your stomach as you hold her closer. “You make me really happy too… You okay, Sev? Somethin’ happen?” You ask, worry lacing your words.

She draws your fingers to her lips, pressing gentle kisses to each one before placing your hand over her chest. “I just wanna hold you. Can I hold you, angel?”

You nod wordlessly, holding her even tighter. Something feels wrong, a foreboding shadow devouring all of the warmth in the room.

But you ignore it. She’ll tell you when she’s ready.

Thump… Thump… Thump…

You slowly relax into her. Blinking heavily, you lazily turn your head and peck her throat.

Thump… Thump… Thump…

The steady, rhythmic thump of Sevika's heart lulls you to sleep.

Thump… Thump… Thump…

Hazily, you feel the soft caress of her lips on your forehead. They linger and her chest rumbles with unheard words beneath your cheek.

Thump… Thump… Thump…

Groaning, you grope blindly at the cold sheets, your fingers searching for any sign of warmth. Grunting, you raise your head blearily, squinting against the harsh brightness of the room. “Sevika?” You mumble, your voice thick with sleep and confusion.

With a loud thud, you flop your head back into the pillow.

Sitting up with a pout, you push yourself out of bed and fumble around for some underwear and your nightdress. As you blink away the remnants of sleep, your gaze falls on a familiar strip of leather lying innocently on your dresser. Your heart pounds in your chest as that feeling of unease returns.

You stare at the necklace, your heart in your throat. Approaching it with cautious steps, your shaky fingers brush against its smooth surface.

Why would-

A jolt of recognition and fear shoots through you. You jump back with a gasp and spin around the room in a panic. Your heart pounds in your throat as you frantically search for any sign of her - but it's all gone.

The stable. She wouldn’t leave without-

You jump down the stairs, twisting your ankle in your haste. “Sevika!?!” You call out, desperation lacing your voice.

Ignoring the pain, you run to the stables. Your thin dress ripples around you as you sprint down the path.

Your mom's hand rests gently on your arm, but you barely feel it as you rush forward. "Sevika!"

Your mom follows close behind, speaking softly in a sympathetic tone. “Baby, she’s-“

Tears spill down your cheeks. “She wouldn’t. Not like this.” You insist through trembling breaths. “Sevika!!”

There’s no answer.

A warm hand brushes your back trying to offer comfort, but you shrug it off. Your mom’s voice is low and soothing as you stalk toward the stall where her horse should be. “John’s dead. Some of the workers found him in-”

Her voice muffles, growing distant, as static fills your ears. The stall is empty.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you mumble. “I’m goin’ for a ride.”

Your mom's voice pierces the air, shouting and screaming pleas in a desperate attempt to stop you. But you ignore her, jumping onto Honey.

Digging the heels of your feet into her fur, she flies out of the stables, matching your urgency.

A frantic drumbeat echoes in your chest as you jump from Honey’s back and sprint into the garden. Your garden.

The trees blur past as you leap through the gap, scanning the surroundings for any sign of her. Honey picks up on your anxious energy and mimics it, trotting restlessly in circles beside you.

Brittle, browning pink and orange flowers flatten under her hooves. Swallowing down a feeling of nausea, you frantically search for her among the sea of red tulips that cover the ground.

Each delicate petal seems to mock you as your heart aches with longing. With anger and confusion.

Your whole body trembles as the reality of her absence hits you. Your hair raises as the sensation of cold numbness spreads through you. Turning away, you run.

You run away from the house. You run away from the stables. Away from the Saloon. Away from the garden. You run away from every blurred face in town.

…

White hot pain blurs your vision. Your breath comes out in ragged gasps as you slowly pull Honey to a stop. Her sleek fur has grown sticky and matted under your legs.

Nausea rolls in your stomach as you peel your legs from her back. Gritting your teeth, you slowly lower yourself to the ground. Your swollen ankle buckles, your hands flailing to find purchase on the slick fur. Collapsing into the ground, you scream, grasping your foot.

A throbbing burn pulses down your legs and you release your foot with a whimper. With trembling hands, you raise your skirts to examine the source of the pain and are met with raw, shredded skin along your thighs. The pain in your body is excruciating, a constant pulsating that hums through your body.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you resist the urge to scream. Honey nudges you with her nose and you push her away.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

She chews on the cotton material of your dress. You cringe away from her. "Please." You plead weakly. "You're makin’ it worse."

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Ignoring your pleas, Honey continues to gnaw on the fabric while you try to hold yourself. Sniffling, you lift your head and are met with a familiar sight - a stain on a nearby rock. It’s now faded into a rusty grey color. A smeared handprint above a large blood stain.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

The piercing shriek that reverberates from your lips is raw and guttural, animalistic.

Next Part

Taglist: @lez-zuha

#western outlaw au #wild west au #outlaw/cowboy sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika smut #sevika #sevika arcane #arcane #league of legends #arcane fanfic #league of legends fanfic #sevika league of legends #wlw smut #wlw ns/fw #wlw #sapphic #lesbian

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scratchingcatfics658 · 8 months ago

Text

So hear me out, an AU where James and Pyramid Head share a body a lá Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

I've written a scene where Reader accidentally walks in one of his transformations lol

(this also includes what I headcanon Pyramid Head to look like without his helmet lol)

Metamorphosis

James Sunderland/Pyramid Head x GN!Reader

TWs and CWs: anxiety, chasing, body horror, canon-typical violence, uncanny valley, sorta angst, no smut

Summary: You never understood why James and Pyramid Head are never in the same room, at least until now.

Check it out on AO3!

(divider by @fawndollie )

You were looking for James only to hear him scream in pain in the distance. You go to investigate the source, ready to kick some monster ass, but you come across a horrifying sight...

��🩸🔪🩸

You see James kneeling on the floor and writhing in pain. "James! Are you okay?" You call out.

"N-No! (Y/N)! Stay away! Save yourself!" James choked out as veins were popping throughout. His body swells with thick muscle as his spine cracks. His clothing tightens as his body increases in muscle and stature.

His cries for help are deepening into animalistic growls. His clothing finally couldn't take it anymore. They were soon reduced to nothing but shreds.

As James started to slip away, his eyes darkened and dilated. His hair lengthens to his shoulders.

As he smiled unnaturally wide, James was no more.

Only Pyramid Head remains...

The brute stood up and tore off whatever was left of James's shirt. He found an old worn-out apron and simply tied it around his waist. On the table nearby, he found some old work gloves and immediately put them on.

Now where was his helmet? Oh there it is! It spontaneously appeared right next to him. He lifts the heavy helmet with his strong arms and places it on his head.

Now all he needs is one more thing, his Great Knife. He punches a hole in the floor and reaches for his trusty blade, slowly pulls it out, and it lands with a loud slam, digging into the floor.

Pyramid Head finally feels complete.

🔪🩸🔪🩸

Your heart sank as you saw the man you love slowly and painfully turn into the most feared monster of all Silent Hill. You had no choice but to run.

You ran out of there as fast as you could. You then heard a loud scraping noise in the distance. It seems that he finally saw you. You continued to run. You hid behind a corner. Oh good, you finally lost him... You started to look for a place to hide from him. Along the way, you found a safehouse. You quickly went inside and locked the door.

You let out a sigh of relief and you thought “Finally, I can rest…” until you once again heard the scraping noise of a familiar foe…

(a/n: I got y'all on a cliffhanger! >:D But don't worry tho, I will definitely write a pt 2 for this if I get a chance lol)

#sketch writes!✒️#my writing #silent hill 2 remake #silent hill 2 #silent hill #silent hill x reader #james sunderland #james sunderland x reader #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader

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lavandulawrites · 1 year ago

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To Save Or Be Saved

Yandere Sethos x reader

This was a request: “Where Yandere Sethos falls in love with reader right after reader saved him or something (or u can use ur idea instead). And Sethos would secretly follows reader to get to know her.”

Masterlist

Warnings: stalking, violence, murder, subtle manipulation

Word count: 1127

Sethos had been lead into a trap and was surrounded by multiple bandits. The had managed to swipe of his vision when he had tumbled down the hill after he tripped on their snare. His clumsiness was uncharacteristic and he cursed himself for being so reckless.

One of the bandits, a tall and gruff man with greying hair, slammed his boot against Sethos’ side. The brown haired man coughed and sneered up at the man. Just as the bandit was about to kick him again, a yell could be heard.

Sethos’ eyes snapped up to the sand dune and were met with the sight of you. You were screaming at the bandits to let him be. In your hand was a crossbow pointed at them ready to shoot.

They quickly left, no before dealing a final kick at Sethos. Sethos rolled over to his knees and slowly got up. He groaned at the pain. He was going to have nasty bruises.

“Are you alright?” you were sliding down the dune, your eyes wide and filled with worry.

You placed the crossbow down on a stone and quickly ran your hands over him checking him for injuries. “Fuck you’re bleeding!” your voice was frantic. You patted your pockets in search of something to use in order stop his nose bleeding.

“I’m fine. Really” he placed his hand over yours as he smiled gently. “Thank you for saving me. I owe you” he winked.

You stilled in your movements, clearly caught off guard. Your eyes snapped from him and began scanning the ground. You bent down and handed his vision to him. The purple vision sparked in your hold. He paused before he took it.

“No need to thank me. I’m just glad I didn’t have to use the crossbow. To be honest I have absolutely no idea how to use it. I just found it in a ruin close by and decided to keep it” you smiled sheepishly. Your cheeks pink from embarrassment.

Sethos’ eyes widened. Archons you were beautiful. He chuckled at your words. “You are a brave girl” his hand reached out and ruffled your hair. He laughed at your surprised expression. “But promise me to be careful in the future. Okay?” his voice completely serious.

“Yeah…” you nodded slightly. Confusion written all over over your face. “Well I need to get going. Bye! And take care!” you waved as you walked away.

“Bye!” Sethos waved back. He watched as your figure got smaller and smaller. His finger tips itched to go after you. Your very presence had him in a trance. As he hooked his vision to his clothing it finally dawned on him. He didn’t know your name.

Days turned into weeks and he finally finally saw you again. He had taken a trip to Sumeru City and when he entered one of the many cafés he was met with a pleasant surprise. There on to corner, far away from everyone, were you. You were eating a cake and was seemingly lost in thought. Your hair a gently framing your face making you look even more similar to an angle.

When your eyes met his, he gasped. You were ethereal and he was completely at your mercy. He made his way over to you with quick steps.

“Hi. We meet again” he smiled. His green eyes crinkled.

“Hello” you returned his smile. “Nice to meet you again” you motioned to the chair opposite of you. “Sit down.”

He did as you said. The chair scraped against the floor at his eager motion. “Nice to meet you too!” He grinned. “Oh, I never caught your name.”

“[Name]. What about yours?”

“Sethos at your service” he winced playfully. “[Name]” he tasted your name. “What a beautiful name. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman” he grinned. He could say your name a million times and never get sick off it.

You two talked for hours. He was glad you both shared your similarities. Though he was forever grateful you didn’t share his thirst for adventure. Even though you had indeed saved him, you were still not made for a life of adventure. You had said yourself that you were rather clumsy and you saving him was just a heat of the moment thing.

Sethos decided to follow you around. You were friendly to everyone you met and that irked him. Your laughter was something only he should be able to hear. Not everyone else.

Your house was on the outskirts of town and quite lonely. Fear crept through his veins at the thought of someone breaking into your home, so he decided to check your house for any danger. Your house was cozy and filled to the brim with various fairytale books. Your naivety greatly intrigued him and his need to protect you grew.

You were out on a shopping trip and Sethos were following close by. He didn’t want to call it stalking as his intentions were good. He was a good guy and he wanted only to protect you.

You had stopped to chat with a fruit vendor. The vendor was seemingly a good friend of yours, considering your playful banter. Sethos saw red when the vendor’s hand came to rest upon your shoulder. His hands balled up into fists as he plotted on how to quickly and quietly get rid of the man.

Sethos would continue to follow you as for long as he felt was necessary. You were a fragile thing after all and he needed to keep you safe. His patience was not endless and he soon saw himself sick of lurking in the shadows.

He paid some bandits to rob you. As they pushed you to the ground and took your beloved bag, Sethos emerged from the shadows and quickly slammed the bandits to the ground. Blood prickled out from their cracked skulls and onto the stone ground.

You slapped your hands over your mouth as a way to silence your scream. Sethos quickly pulled you into a tight embrace. “Shusssssh…” It’s okay. They can’t hurt you now” he whispered against your ear. He could feel his veins vibrating at your proximity. He burrowed his face shameless into your neck and inhaled deeply. God you smelt divine. “Luckily I was close by. I can’t even imagine what might have happened to you if I weren’t…” he pulled back slightly so he could look at you properly. He stroked your cheek gently. “You are safe now. You are safe with me. Let’s go back to your house. Okay? I will protect you. Maybe you could even move to the desert with me?” he rambled on, not even bothering to see if you heard him through your shock.

Finally you were his.

#yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x female reader #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere male x reader #Yandere male #yandere #yandere sethos x reader #yandere sethos #sethos x reader #sethos #genshin impact x female reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x female reader #genshin impact #x reader

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k1llerfr0sst · 21 days ago

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It really did! Thanks for the response ❤️ I do still have some questions tho lol😅 Mainly regarding Gotham itself. Do u think the city can be fixed? Like at all. If the inhabitants of the city civilians, hero’s, and villains alike are all feeding into the chaos of Gotham how can it be fixed and should it be fixed? I’ve heard that in some comics Gotham is cursed or corrupted by manic and/or supernatural. If that is true how can the city be fixed and should it ever be? If it should be fixed then who should be one to do so? Should one of the Bat fam do so or should a someone else do it? And if the city isn’t cursed in any sense then I feel like that means that the people of the city are the cause not the effect. Also curious what u think of other Bat fam members. Is NightWing, Red Robin, Spoiler, etc better than Batman and RedHood in their morals or are they all the same? Are they all causing more damage than they fix and how much does Gotham really need them? I’m really passionate about the Bat fam and I love to word vomit on them especially Bruce.😅

Thank you for all the comments I love them so let me yap

Can Gotham be fixed?

- Right now, Gotham is a city where everyone is shaped by violence. The villains exploit it, the heroes try to contain it, and the civilians are caught surviving inside it. But none of those groups are innocent and none of them are beyond saving either. The problem is that everyone’s playing a role in a system that’s designed to never change (considering constant violence/action is a main thing for superhero stories)

- Batman fights crime without addressing its causes. Villains lash out as symptoms of a broken society. Even the average person in Gotham has been written as numb or resigned to the chaos. That’s not a city it’s a cycle, one needed to continue a story/comic. Gotham can be fixed, but only if it’s stops being a stage for vigilantes and rather like a real city with real people who deserve more than constant violence

- fixing Gotham wouldn’t be about stopping Joker or Scarecrow. It would be about systemic, long-term change and restorative justice. Not exciting comic book stuff—but the real kind of justice that prevents crime before it starts.

- So yes, in theory it could be fixed, but in practice considering Gotham is fictional and a background, it probably will never be fixed for the sake of Batman’s story

What if Gotham is cursed?

- Some stories (Gates of Gotham, Batman: The Cult, Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth, and more recently Detective Comics) suggest that Gotham is literally or metaphorically cursed. Some runs even suggest Gotham itself is alive or has a malevolent will of its own, shaped by centuries of exploitation/colonialism/suffering.

- If that’s the case—if Gotham is cursed in a magic sense—then fixing it becomes about more than just infrastructure or policy. It would require a kind of spiritual healing (a more comic-book magical plot rather than real world issues I focused on in my other analyses.)

- It’s a powerful metaphor though, Gotham being cursed, especially when you consider how real cities carry legacies of genocide, torture, violence, and destruction.

- So should Gotham be fixed, even if it’s cursed? Yes. Maybe the idea of a curse is really about what happens when pain is never acknowledged and rather only passed on. If a city like Gotham is “haunted” then healing it means naming the ghosts, honoring the hurt, and choosing not to repeat it. Even then Gothams curse is just another magical metaphor for real systemic rot or history

Should it be fixed—and by who?

- Speaking from if I was in the dc world, yes, it should be fixed, bc Gotham is full of people who deserve more than survival. Speaking from a comic reader perspective, if Gotham was fixed, there would no longer be a need for Batman, and despite the comic being imperfect, Batman is a hero that teaches many valuable lessons and betters irl society, so I wouldn’t want it to end.

- But if it would be changed, who gets to lead that change? The solution can’t be one person it has to be collective. The Batfam could help if they actually shifted from punishment to rebuilding. Change would require a full shift and a full dedication from most of gotham, the poor, the rich, and everyone in between (which is unlikely).

- So maybe the question is, who could light a spark to make people stand up. And honestly, I don’t know. But it would be good for superheroes to try—not because they can fix everything, but because of what they represent. Batman has always been a symbol of fear to criminals, but what if someone in the Batfam became a symbol of hope to the people instead

- Superheroes are icons, cultural forces. They inspire, and we’ve seen glimpses of that. Like the “We Are Robin” movement, it was powerful not because it was led by a hero, but because it was picked up by regular kids. Duke Thomas the baddie didn’t tell them to idolize Batman—he gave them a symbol they could use to stand up for themselves. That’s what superheroes could be doing: not just saving people but empowering them.

- So while the real change has to come from the collective—from workers, activists, educators, and survivors—the Batfam has the reach and visibility to amplify that change. They can step back from being guardians of the status quo and instead become allies in transformation.

And if Gotham isn’t cursed, and just this way…?

- Then yeah the people in part are responsible. But only because they've been shaped by decades of systemic failure. If there’s no curse or no supernatural explanation, then we’re looking at a city that became cruel because it was built to be that way. It’s realistic and sad. But that means people can reshape it, because if the system made it this way a different system can unmake it.

Opinions on other Batfam..?

- The Batfam definitely share similar forms of justice with Batman and Red Hood—especially in the comic book sense (where justice often means chasing criminals and punching bad guys without addressing the deeper systemic problems) they’re mostly locked into the same cycle: reacting to violence rather than preventing it. So they all operate under the same flawed framework.

- But morally they do vary. Nightwing has a much more empathetic people-first approach and tends to prioritize protecting people over punishing anyone.

- Red Robin is more tactical and cerebral—very much influenced by Bruce. He can veer into surveillance-state thinking especially in his solo comics. He means well but sometimes leans a little too hard on the “ends justify the means” logic like jason (less murder tho)

- Spoiler has a strong moral compass. She questions authority, challenges Batman’s methods (Batman: War Games (2004), she consistently voices discomfort with the escalating gang violence that Batman’s war causes)

- Signal is my fav, he believes in community-driven justice and empowerment, He prioritizes visibility (working in the daytime) and focuses on uplifting people rather than just punishing criminals. His morality is rooted in rebuilding rather than retaliation. He is who I think of when I think of a person sparking hope for Gotham

- Robin (damian) starts off deeply indoctrinated by the League of Assassins’ ideology, but over time he slowly carves out his own moral code. his morality is defined by the tension between nurture and nature

- Black Bat has one of the purest forms of morality in the Batfam—nonverbal, deeply empathetic. She understands violence intimately and thus rejects it with quiet conviction. Her morality is rooted in redemption and restraint,

- So while they’re all still shaped by Gotham’s endless trauma loop (and still mostly fighting symptoms instead of causes) they each approach justice with different priorities and values. But unlike Bruce and Jason, who represent two extremes (detached idealism vs. rage-driven retribution), the others tend to exist in more nuanced middle ground.

- In the end they’re all good people trying their best. They just haven't escaped the limitations of the world they’re written in

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low-budget-korra · 7 months ago

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Let's talk about Caitlyn Kiramman from Arcane (again)

Tons to talk about her so, here we go

1. Is she privileged? Yes. Is she a bad person because of it? No.

In fact, from the beginning, Caitlyn always wanted to do what's right and that's the reason she became an enforcer(in her life experience until then, as Piltie, the enforcers were there to keep the peace and help the city and it's people). She wanted to help people and was one of the few Top Siders who viewed Zaun people as people and not monsters or trash.

2. Did she get blind by revenge and make some bad stuff? Yes.

But let's be fr, if my mom was murdered like that and by the same people I tried to help, I would do the same or even worse and probably so are you Caitlyn haters. And that's okay, we are emotional beings and rage truly is something that blinds people.

Not to be that person but half of Caitlyn's hate posts just scream "i never lost someone important in my life and I don't know how grief works" Cuz unfortunately I did and even tho it wasn't nowhere near the violent way Cassandra died, I still had to struggle with the anger phase. And I say this bc people act Caitlyn was just pulling a tantrum, overacting or smt

Sure, her pain ain't bigger than Jinx's or Vi's, but it's still hurts and the only true difference is that Cassandra had the privilege of an honorable funeral, while Felicia and many others from Zaun, didn't have. But don't be here all condescendingly try to disqualify Caitlyn pain just bc she is rich

Anyway, she was so blind by revenge that she released the toxic gas on Zaun, and it is said and shown that she only used to clean the streets before search operations and against the baroons. Still fucked up bc there's no way innocents weren't harmed but still, it ain't like she release the gas on everyone just for funzies as some people comments

Ambessa played her cards pretty well bc it's easier to do something like that if you dehumanize your enemy. And those Zaun thugs were dumb enough to fall for the Ambessa trap in the ceremony and the whole Zaun suffered because of that.

And if we can learn something from this is not to be too quick to violence bc you may be played and in the end, you and your people will suffer with the oppressors now ""justified"" actions. Yes, violence can help but we need to know how and when to use it.

3. Caitlyn is possibly the most complex and misunderstood character from season 2. Mostly bc even tho we had lots of micro expressions and subtext that explain her actions, there were things that maybe needed to be said. This would save the character from being so misunderstood

Like a scene with her saying something like "Vi...I'm sorry if I hurt you" and then Vi would respond like "if?" and then silence after. Could even be in that scene in act3 when Vi just wakes up from the coma. Idk, I know it sounds dumb but again, it would save the character from being misunderstood and hated over them

"But Caitlyn changing sides was too plot convenient and came outta nowhere". No? Lmao in fact you can see in her face how she regrets hitting on Vi and how she kinda of doesn't want to be there when Ambessa is making the speech in the end of act1

But then again, Ambessa plays her cards and calls out Caitlyn into a position where she simply can't say no. Remember that they were already thinking that someone from the Top may have helped the attack and Caitlyn was seen hanging around with a Zaun criminal and sister of the terrorist, if she refused what Ambessa was offering, people would assume she is a traitor and that could mean death to her.

Months go by and when we see act2 Caitlyn she is already more calm, her initial rage and wishes of vengeance kinda of ran out, and she is already realizing all the shit she did and disagreeing with Ambessa's ideas. In simple terms: She just wanted a way out.

Oh and let's not forget how Caitlyn was alone during all that. Her father was also grieving, Jace was gone, Mel was gone, Vi was gone...she was all alone and emotionally vulnerable, which makes it so much easier for Ambessa to manipulate her

So when she reunited with Vi and Vi called her Cupcake, it's like "wait, you not hate me after what I did to you?" moment , it was when she realized she wasn't alone anymore. And after hearing that Vi was helping her father, Caitlyn immediately wanted to help - maybe as a way of saying sorry, to redeem herself from the bad shit she did during those 6 months.

And when she got to see Jinx happily and chill, just hugging her dad...it was the moment she remembered Jinx wasn't a monster, that little moment is when she starts humanize Jinx and we can see in her eyes.

"then why did she arrest Jinx" Because Jinx surrendered and she had no choice, Jinx didn't kill just her mom. But she waits for Vi to wake up, to decide what to do and I bet while this happened, people were pressuring her to execute Jinx already or something.

That conversation she had with Jinx kind of seal the deal. Probably the first proper conversation they had and seeing Jinx so weak and vulnerable...it totally makes her destroy the image she previously had of her. There's no way back, she didn't forgive Jinx and I don't think she ever will, but she stopped hating her. Which is a start.

And knowing Vi would never allow Jinx to stay in jail, Caitlyn just say "fuck it" and let Vi release her sister. This was an act of love, especially bc Cait knew Vi could just run away with Jinx and she may never see her again.

"the CaitVi sex scene was unnecessary" I didn't see any of these when it was Jayce and Mel tho 🤷

It is both sad and funny how a huge part of the Caitlyn haters also loved and forgave Silco. This just proves that if a woman will be judged harder, a lesbian will be judged 2x more harder cuz the amount of lesbophobic comments I've seen...

#arcane #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #caitvi #vi arcane #jinx arcane #cassandra kiramman #jayce arcane #mel medarda #ambessa medarda

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mssorceressupreme · 1 year ago

Note

hiii i felt like ive read every single minho fic in existence & ive been dying from the lack of it so im hoping u can write ts 🙏🏼

fem!reader works for wicked and betrays the gladers w teresa (or not doesn’t matter). & instead of teresa talking to minho in that one scene, its reader. reader tries to explain that its for a good cause by being slightly stern n rude about it but breaks down for the first time and softens up when she realizes that it isn't right. reader then tries to make up with it by being a lil freaky…..,, (can be spice or smut idc)

HAHAHAH girl mans was literally in pain during that scene but ur so real 😩🤌🏼 literally tho I feel like the fandom is slowly dying and it hurts 😭😭 anyway, l hope I satisfied your prompt but I do apologise as I got slightly carried away at the end and added more to the plot 😭🫶🏼

——

Change | Minho x Reader

Summary: after betraying the gladers, you come face to face with one of them again. the one who captured your heart a long time ago, and you discover that feelings don’t go astray.

Warnings: spicy content, mild violence, mentions of blood and gunshots

——

You stood in the sterile lab, the cold, fluorescent lights casting a harsh glare in the white walls. The sound of machines humming filled the room, a constant reminder of the work you were doing here.

You paused from working on your lab report, glancing over at Teresa, who was intently focused on a computer screen, analysing data. “Do you regret it, Teresa?” You asked, “Betraying them?”

Teresa didn’t look up from the screen. “No,” she replied firmly, “We’re in the right, Y/N.”

You stared at her blankly, did she really not care about them?

“Don’t think too much about it, this is our job now. We’re here and not with them. They’re out there and it doesn’t matter anymore.” She continued, with a slightly gentler tone.

“Not all of them…” you mumbled.

Teresa looked up from her computer screen, she knew how much he meant to you back in the glade, about your secret infatuation with him. “The tests on Minho are looking good, he’s delivering promising results Y/N. If we continue testing, we’ll be closer to finding a cure.”

You nodded, but felt heavy with doubt. You had always believed in the cause, the need to find a cure and save humanity.

But seeing Minho captured and brought to the facility, subjected to tests and experiments, had stirred something inside you. Was this truly the way?

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were crossing the line but you chose to ignore that for the sake of finding the cure.

It was still early in the day and you were due for a check in session with Minho in a few minutes. The first session, and the first time seeing him since he was held captive.

You couldn’t bring yourself to visit him previously, well, not until now, since it was mandatory for you to check in with your subject as a scientist.

“Well I’m off, got a meeting.” You began packing up your items.

“Good luck. See you for a coffee later?” Teresa smiled softly, and you nodded, showing a small smile before leaving the room.

——

In no time, you found yourself sitting in the cold, clinical meeting room, waiting for Minho to be brought in.

You fiddled with a pen, your mind racing. When the door finally opened, and Minho was escorted in, your heart clenched at the sight of him. He looked worn, his usual fierce determination dulled by exhaustion and pain.

You sat at opposite ends of the table, the distance between you feeling both emotional and physical.

“Minho,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady.

Minho didn’t respond, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

“You have to understand where Teresa and I are coming from…” You continued, “This is for a good cause. We’re trying to save the world.”

Again, he didn’t move a muscle nor did he respond. But you could feel the tension between the two of you, the atmosphere was uneasy. The guilt of bringing him here, away from the other gladers weighed heavily on your shoulders.

You felt your resolve wavering but you forced yourself to remain stern, “You know how much we need to find a cure. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made.”

You sighed and continued. “There’s a girl here, her name is Cheyenne. You can help her Minho, we’re so close to finding a cure. You can help hundreds of infected people, think about it. It just takes a bit of sacrifice…”

Minho’s eyes narrowed, anger flashing in them. “By torturing and experimenting on people? How can you justify that.”

“There is no other way.” You sneered, “We’re doing the best we can.”

“Your best looks a lot like your worst.” He spat, clenching his fists through his handcuffs.

“At least we’re doing something about it! Unlike some people!” You slammed your pen on the table, frustrated with the amount of confusion running through your head.

Your head was thinking differently than your heart. You had certain thoughts, but out came opposing ones.

“You’re no better than WCKD,” He was spiteful, “You’re just like them.”

Your gaze softened, you shook your head slightly.

“The Y/N I know wouldn’t have done this.” He added, scoffing.

The weight of his accusation hit hard. You had always prided yourself on being different, empathetic, wanting to help people. But now, you felt the full force of your actions crashing down in you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you couldn’t hold them back any longer.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking, “I just wanted to help…I thought I was doing the right thing, but now, I don’t know anymore.” There had to be another way to cure humanity, this was straight up torture.

Minho’s expression softened slightly, seeing you break down for the first time. “If you really want to help, you need to stop this.”

You took a deep breath, the decision forming in your mind. You stood up and walked around the table, closing the distance between you. “I never wanted to hurt you, Minho.” You confessed, “I’ve always…loved you.”

He scanned your face, eyes darting from your eyes to lips, as you leaned in. Your lips brushing against his, before forcefully attaching.

Little did you know, that Minho too, shared your feelings. You had always admired him, his leadership, fearlessness, and the way he cared for other gladers, especially you.

Those moments where he paid extra close attention to you, wasn’t just because he cared for you like everyone else, but because he had feelings for you. You were always his first priority.

“Shuck, I’ve been wanting to do this to you for so long.” Minho mumbled into the kiss, as he pulled you onto his lap despite having his hands cuffed.

“Please forgive me Minho, I can’t bear to see you like this anymore. I want to stop this, stop WCKD and find the others.” You were straddling him, and pulled away from the kiss.

His response was leaning in for another kiss. The kiss was filled with desperation and regret, a silent plea for forgiveness.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging on his hair lightly, while he pulled you closer to him, fully closing the gap between you.

He bit your lip slightly, you left out a soft moan in response. Your lips moved in sync, they became sloppy, desperate and hungry kisses. You craved more, you missed him badly, and this proximity was exactly what the both of you needed.

The fact that his was growing harder beneath you, and how wet you already were, made it evident that the both of you were touch deprived, and all your feelings had burst out in this session.

“Minho…” you moaned, as he began kissing your neck, finding your sweet spot and sucking on it until he left a mark.

“Looks like we’re both tagged now.” He smirked, his eyes still tired and weak, but a tinge of something else was shown, forgiveness.

You now couldn’t imagine how much the betrayal must’ve hurt him especially. But the past is in the past, you wanted to move forward and truly make up for your heinous actions.

You planted a gentle kiss on his forehead, “I’m never going to let you get hurt, ever again.” You looked down at his handcuffs, and grazed your thumb above them, “I don’t have the keys to this on me…they should be in the lab somewhere.”

You got off his lap, “As much as I’d like to continue, we need to get you out of here,” determination hardening your voice, “I’m going to help you escape.”

Minho looked at her, taken aback by your sudden change of heart, “Why would you do that? Never-mind me…what will WCKD do to you if they find out?”

“I don��t care about WCKD anymore. I realise now that I can’t justify what we’ve done,” You replied, “And I’m not letting them hurt you again, I care about you Minho.”

He nodded firmly, “What can I do to help?”

——

You grabbed the handcuff keys from your lab, un-cuffing Minho swiftly. He shook his wrists and cupped your cheeks, giving you a quick peck on the lips, “Thank you.”

As you made your way through the compound, you led the way. Using your clearance to bypass security systems and unlock doors.

It was all havoc. Alarms sounding, people rushing to flee something, gunshots erupting. There had been a sudden attack on WCKD and the Last City, and you mentally thanked yourself for switching to the right side on time.

When you encountered guards, you fought together, defending Minho. Your movements synchronised and steady.

You grabbed a fallen guard’s weapon, tossing another to Minho. You defended each other fiercely, a silent understanding between you. The both of you weren’t just fighting for survival, you were fighting for each other.

As Minho rounded a corner, he bumped into Thomas and Newt, who were searching for him in the compound.

Minho reunited with the two of them, the three of them sharing a relieving hug. “Minho!” Thomas beamed.

You followed soon behind, seeing Minho embraced in a hug.

Thomas saw you and raised his weapon instinctively, and in the chaos, a shot rang out. Pain seared through your leg, and you crumpled to the ground.

“Y/N!” Minho shouted, dropping to his knees beside you. He turned to Thomas, “She’s with us again! She helped me escape.”

Thomas lowered his weapon, guilt washing over his face. “Sorry Y/N,” he stammered, his eyes regretful, “I didn’t know…it’s good, good to have you back with us.” He affirmed.

Minho carefully lifted you into his arms, cradling you into his chest. “We’ve got to get out of here. She’s hurt.”

They moved quickly, Minho carrying you bridal style as you navigated through the compound. You clung to him, breaths shallowed and pained. The warmth of his body was comforting and reassuring against you.

“Hang on,” he whispered, “We’re almost there.”

When the four of you finally burst out the building, the cool night air hit you like a wave. You stumbled into the open, the dark sky stretching above you lot.

“You did it,” you murmured, a weak smile tugging at your lips, you had lost a lot of blood in your leg. “We did it.”

Minho held you tighter, his face close to yours. “You’re safe now,” he said softly, “We’re going to be okay.”

Thomas and Newt followed closely behind, their expressions a mix of concern and determination. They had all made it out, but your injury weighed heavily on them.

“We need to get her to safety,” Thomas said, his voice urgent, “I’ll get Brenda and the others to come to us.”

Minho nodded, his grip on you unwavering. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He promised.

As you moved away from the compound, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Despite the pain, despite the uncertainty of your future, you knew you were where you needed to be—by Minho’s side, fighting for a better tomorrow. Together, you would face whatever came next, your hearts united in your quests for freedom and redemption.

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phantomwithbreakfast · 8 months ago

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~ The Frightmare Of Christmas ~

So uh. Even when we know Danny hates Christmas, right? And it doesn’t get any better in the future, right?

I came up with a Phan Fic story—Christmas edition. It popped in my head when I was wandering around in a book shop. And now I hate myself for writing it. Because every damn thing I write is so depressing and hurt and dark and angst! Why, oh why? And Danny is always the victim. He can’t be happy for once in his whole lifetime! It was supposed to be a ‘two sided’ one-shot, but of course, it didn’t last by a one-shot.

It’s not online yet. I don’t even know if I want to post it online tho.

But I’ll give you a teaser / spoiler.

———————

Genre: Angst / No Comfort / Pain

AU — OOC — very uncomfortable for that pang feeling, so beware! (that’s why I’m doubting for putting it online on FFN)

Trigger Warning: Emotional Distress — Violence — Graphic Content

Rating: T+ (or M due graphic content)

———————

Summary:

Surrounded by cheerful lights and carols, Danny faces another dark Christmas again. Battling with family ties and his mom’s shadow looming over him, he’s forced to confront the unbearable burden of his secrets and broken hope.

{It’s about a mad scientist that doesn’t know it’s her son in disguise laying on the examination table — the typical phandom dissect—no, vivisect story tho. Or am I wrong?}

———————

Teasers / spoilers / pieces:

~ Frozen Tears ~

(Prologue pieces)

———————

Danny’s POV.

—

…

Suddenly, he was running. He bolted from the room, ignoring the startled looks from his mom and Jazz, his sneakers squeaking against the polished floor. The hallway blurred past him as he pushed through the front doors and into the freezing night air, his breath visible in sharp, frantic puffs. His heart felt like it was shattering, pieces falling away faster than he could hold them together.

…

It hurt.

God, it hurt in ways he couldn’t describe.

His arms hung limp at his sides, his shoulders slumped forward as though he carried the weight of the world. His head drooped, and his white hair brushed against his forehead as the cold wind whipped past. Behind his eyes, a sharp sting burned, a signal of tears threatening to spill. He blinked rapidly, but it was no use.

Danny’s chest tightened, and he let out a shaky breath that turned to mist in the freezing air.

It wasn’t enough.

The wall broke.

His body gave out, the emotions were too heavy to bear. He plummeted from the sky like a broken bird, spiraling down until he hit the cold, snow-dusted asphalt with a muted thud. The chill of the ground seeped into his body as he lay there, motionless for a moment, unable to move.

Then, slowly, he curled into himself.

Danny rolled onto his left side, pulling his knees tightly to his chest. His arms wrapped around his upper body as if he were trying to hold himself together, his fingers gripping his biceps so hard it almost hurt. His face pressed into the crook of his arm, hiding his tear-streaked expression from the empty street around him. His body trembled, every shiver a reflection of the storm raging inside him.

He felt so small, so fragile, so broken. The world around him was silent, save for the faint sound of wind brushing against the empty street. The cold bit at his skin, but he didn’t care. The pain inside him drowned out everything else.

Danny hugged himself tighter, as if he could somehow protect what little was left of him. But he knew the truth. There was nothing to protect anymore.

Even though he tried to stop it—God, he tried—the hurt tore through him like a tidal wave. The tears spilled over, streaming down his face like an icy waterfall. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing them to stop, but it only made it worse.

A sharp sob escaped his throat, then another, until the quiet night was filled with the sound of his breaking. He cried out loud, each sob cutting through the cold air.

He wanted to stop.

He needed to stop.

But his body betrayed him, shaking uncontrollably, the wall he’d built to hold it all in was crumbling down and beyond repair.

The tears kept flowing, cold against his frozen cheeks. His chest heaved with the force of his cries, and no matter how tightly he clutched his arms or buried his face, he couldn’t contain it.

It wasn’t just crying—it was a complete collapse. His body trembled, his mind fractured, his heart ached, and his core felt like it was shattering into nothing. All of it was giving in to the pain he’d tried so hard to hide.

But he just couldn’t.

———————

Maddie’s POV.

—

…

“Phantom?”

Maddie called again, her tone firmer this time, bordering on impatient. She didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she lifted her right boot and gave it a sharp kick in its back, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

It didn’t respond.

Not the way she expected. It didn’t lunge or lash out. It didn’t even look up. Instead, it let out a weak, shallow sound—a muffled sob—and its breathing came in uneven, cracking gasps.

…

You belong to me now, Phantom.

Finally.

Her fingers tightened around the Fenton Thermos, the cool metal humming faintly in her grip. She could feel it—feel him—moving inside. Or was that her imagination? It didn’t matter. It was trapped now, contained. No more mocking escapes, no more clever tricks, no more illusions of control.

You thought you were so untouchable, didn’t you? And yet, here you are.

She traced the edge of the thermos with her thumb, a shiver running down her spine. What was it thinking in there? Was it afraid? Angry? Could ghosts even feel those things? Oh, how she longed to know. How she longed to make it feel those things.

Phantom was hers now, and hers only.

The ultimate head prize.

The climax of her work.

The thought of opening the thermos, of seeing it again, of watching it struggle against her containment—it made her breath hitch. But she wouldn’t rush. No, not yet. The anticipation was intoxicating, and she wanted to savor it.

Oh, the experiments I’ll conduct.

She could start with figuring out what made it function, the mechanism behind its being, what fueled its power. She’d extract every secret, every ounce of it, until there was nothing left for it to hide.

I’ll take you apart, Phantom. Piece by piece, layer by layer, I’ll strip you down until there’s nothing left but data—every secret, every fragment of what you are, cataloged and understood. And when I’ve wrung every answer from you, when there’s nothing left for you to hide... your existence will have served its purpose.

She hugged the thermos closer to her chest, the thrill of victory warming her even in the icy air. This was her moment.

But patience. Always patience. A good scientist knows not to rush.

Maddie’s smile widened as she turned back toward the car, cradling the thermos as her precious gift.

And now, she needed to find her son, her little boy, Danny.

———————

Plus, I’m still kind of learning how to write though. I mean, I started writing ‘real’ stories in August. So, that’s around four or five months. Wow!

I always try to write in first perspective, but in third person. Does that make sense?

I wrote three chapters in two days. Not revisioned or improved. Only the first one, the prologue. But! I need to read and probably revise, refine and polish it again and again and again. ‘Cause that’s how I am. And even… after posting something online, I still find mistakes. Frustrating!

And, I wanted to write a positive and a negative story. The difference and actions about Danny being not depressed, and Danny being depressed. But hey! Guess what lasted?

Probably, if it wasn’t a Christmas edition, the title would’ve been “Danny Didn’t Respond” or “He Didn’t Respond”.

Anyways, that was it.

———————

You can find my Phan Fics here.

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mewwccury · 3 months ago

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i see you

word count. 4k (believe it or not)

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. more fluff, angst-ish, strangers > friends > lovers trope, kms/kys jokes, suggestive themes, cursing, war-related violence, emotional vulnerability, canon timeline (except he doesnt die), porco x fem!reader

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. i love porco and i LOVE the strangers to friends to lovers plot i will be making these until i lay on my death bed. this has 2 versions btw!! one where it has a happy ending (this one) and one that does not!! diff story tho but uh yeah!!!

୨୧ — ꒰ featuring. porco galliard

୨୧ — ꒰ prompt. the story of how you met the wrecked jaw titan, and how you fixed each other without knowing that you needed to be fixed.

you found him in the wreckage.

blood on stone, heat still curling in the smoke, and porco galliard collapsed in the middle of it—body half-broken, breathing shallow, one arm curled protectively over his ribs like instinct hadn’t quite left him yet.

he didn’t look at you. didn’t move, either. not when you knelt beside him, not when you whispered medical he wouldn't ever understand. not even when you pressed your fingers gently against the side of his neck to check for a pulse.

alive. barely.

you weren’t a soldier. not really. you’d been swept up in the chaos because there was nowhere else to go, nowhere left to return to. but for some reason, you pulled him into your arms anyway—mud and ash clinging to your uniform, the weight of a warrior in your grip—and you started walking.

you didn’t know who he was, not truly. only that you couldn’t leave him behind.

he woke up three days later in your makeshift shelter, covered in rough bandages and stitched up like a secondhand doll. he tried to sit up, swore at the pain, and glared at you like you'd stabbed him yourself.

“what the hell did you do to me?”

“saved your life,” you replied, too tired to sugarcoat it.

“i didn’t ask you to.”

“not like i'd follow your request,” you said, “i'd rather die than let my patient die.”

he scoffed, head falling back against the floor, and muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like stupid.

he didn’t like you. that much was obvious. but he didn’t leave, either.

his wounds took weeks to heal—cracked ribs, a dislocated shoulder, gashes down his back from something sharp and merciless. you patched him up anyway, even when he cursed and snarled and told you to leave him alone.

“you’ve got a death wish,” he said once, watching you clean the jagged scrape across his hip. “keeping me around.”

“oh please, what's there to even be scared about,” you roll your eyes, brushing your fingers gently along the bruising. “you think i'm scared of you? i've treated literal war lords. you're nothin'. not like i'd let you die anyway, so you don't have any room for complaints.”

he furrowed his eyebrows and looked away. no answer, just grumbles of "stupid woman" and "whatever".

weirdly enough, that rough attitude of yours had him hooked. piqued his interest. not that he'd admit, or acknowledge.

his name came later.

porco.

you already knew, but it felt different hearing it from his mouth—rough like gravel, bitter like he'd been choking on it for years.

“you don't need to keep me company,” he told you one night, eyes fixed on the ceiling like it had wronged him. “i don't need your presence if you think i'm lonely.”

“i’d rather kill myself than keep you company,” you said. “i’m just treating you like a patient and talking.”

“that's the same as keeping me company. talk about something else.”

“jeez, lots of energy for someone with a hundred and three of their bones crushed or fractured. might as well discharge you.” you grumble.

but you listened to his request. little things. the sky that day, the sound of birds returning, the way the wind smelled faintly like rain. you talked about memories, too—childhood stuff, if only to fill the silence. porco never responded much, but he listened. always.

“y'know, i had this friend from before. we were playing tag one time and he kept running straight, didn't look at whatever was in his front, claiming he memorized the place. he hit a wall after. fuckin' dumbass.” you laugh hysterically. porco just looks at you, bewildered. how is a nurse so.. cruel?

but when the nightmares came, the memories from war haunting him—shaking, sweating, jaw clenched hard enough to crack—he never asked you to stay. but you stayed anyway.

and he appreciated that.

“you know, you're weird,” he said once, voice low, animosity leaking.

“do you have to rub it in?” you playfully question, cleaning some medical equipment used to clean his wounds

he glares, then continues. “you treat me differently,” he paused. “i’m supposed to be respected in liberio, people look up to me. you treat me like i'm at your level.”

“well, you are. so what if you have a titan, it's not like you're some diety now,” you shrug, glancing at him, “though, i am proud of you for gaining that titan, so you have my respect.”

he glanced at you, expression unreadable. “i don't even understand the gist of what you're talking about.”

time passed. months, slow and aching, but survivable.

he started to heal—physically first, emotionally in pieces. you learned he was sarcastic when irritated—which was almost a given—blunt to a fault, and quicker to defend others than himself. you teased him once, called him soft underneath all the bark, and he rolled his eyes so hard you thought they wouldn't roll back.

but he didn’t deny it.

he’d been through more than he said, but you saw it in the way his jaw tensed when he heard gunfire in the distance. the way he instinctively stepped in front of you during patrols. the way he held his breath when you brushed your fingers too close to his scars.

he didn’t speak of his brother much, but when he did, his voice cracked around the edges.

you never pushed. you never did.

the shift happened slowly.

one day, he let you fix his hair after a rough night. the next, he let you rest your head against his shoulder when sleep wouldn’t come. he even smiled, once—tiny, fleeting, real.

“you’re not as annoying as i thought,” he muttered, cheeks pink.

“you’re not as unbearable either,” you shot back, grinning.

he laughed. actually laughed.

the sound was rough, but it stayed with you for days.

you were sarcastic, blunt, it'd come off rude to others, but not for him. he loved your personality. he loved how humble and down to earth you were. he chuckled at your sarcastic remarks, listened to your blant complaints about work, and conversed with you in topics he's acquainted to.

he found your presence comforting. and before he even realized it, he constantly yearns for it.

and then came the night the world nearly ended—again.

you were ambushed on a supply run. porco fought like a storm, furious and unrelenting, but there were too many. your leg got clipped by shrapnel, and you hit the ground hard.

you saw him hesitate—just for a second—but it was enough.

he turned his back on the enemy and ran to you instead.

“stupid,” he spat, hauling you up. “why do you always get yourself hurt?”

“so you’ll come save me?”

“don’t joke right now.”

“i’m not.”

porco carried you the whole way back, barely breathing, hand tight around yours like he needed to feel your pulse to believe you were still alive.

after that, something cracked open between you.

he kissed you for the first time in the quiet—his hand in your hair, lips gentle despite the roughness of his breath.

“you scare me,” he said against your mouth. “you make me want things i don’t deserve.”

“maybe you do,” you whispered.

he didn’t respond. just kissed you again, like the world might fall apart but he’d still choose you every damn time.

the nights turned warmer.

you curled into each other in silence. talked about the future in half-sentences and broken dreams. he told you about marley. about reiner. about guilt and regret and the weight of someone else’s legacy.

you listened. touched the back of his hand. kissed the corner of his mouth until the self-loathing softened.

porco was all sharp edges and bitter heat, but with you, he softened. not always. not easily. but when it happened, it was real.

you didn’t need perfect. you just needed him.

“you ever think about after?” you asked.

“after what?”

“this. the war. the ruins.”

porco turned to you, expression serious. “not really. doesn’t feel like there’ll be an after.”

“what if there is?”

he paused, fingers brushing yours.

“if there is,” he murmured, “i hope you’re in it.”

you looked at him then, heart aching. “i’m not going anywhere.”

he didn’t answer. just held you tighter.

and maybe it wasn’t peace. not yet.

but when porco rested his forehead against yours that night—eyes closed, breathing steady—you thought maybe, just maybe, there was a future somewhere in the rubble.

and maybe you were meant to find each other in the wreckage. not perfect. not whole.

but together.

#porco #porco galliard #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #I LOVE YOU PORCO GALLIARD #aot x you #aot x reader #aot x oc #aot aot aot #eren yeager #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #aot fanfic #porco aot

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bungoustraypups · 1 year ago

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i don't talk enough about my headcanons involving fukumori specifically while mori's pregnant* during the bungou stray pups universe timeline events, and that needs to change tbh.

so, take some mostly transposed from twitter with some tumblr originals mixed in:

imagine heavily pregnant mori stealing fukuzawas clothes because it's both easier and less stressful than buying tailored clothes of his own. he mostly does this to avoid reminding himself most commercial pregnancy clothing is labeled as "maternity wear, but also because fukuzawa tells him how precious/hot he looks wearing his clothes while heavily pregnant anyway so it's a double win

fukuzawa cuddled up to mori during the last days of his pregnancy making sure he's as comfortable as he can be as mori sleeps more than he's ever slept before because he can be safe knowing that fukuzawa's there for him

when mori's in the second and third trimesters and the poor guy's just. aching constantly (he should get an award for carrying his husband's bigass kids because they didn't get their size from mori), so fukuzawa's often rubbing his back/feet for him

fukuzawa feels bad about the physical strain on mori too and knows he can't really do anything to stop him from aching since it's kinda part of the process so he does what he can to ease it while also saying variations of "sorry for doing this to you" while mori grumbles halfheartedly at him

despite all the pouting and whining he does, mori never really blames anything on fukuzawa, because he knows as well as anyone that this is just how it goes, and also knows that fukuzawa could be treating him so much worse, because he's been treated worse in the past (see my completed, multi-chapter, minor angst with an impossibly fluffy and sweet happy ending, fukumori babyfic "dog days are over" for more details on uh, all of that)

speaking of that tho, mori getting emotional over how sweet fukuzawa is to him is >>>>. not even because mori thinks he doesn't deserve it (he does, but that eases with time, more and more as time goes on, and more easily than anyone expects it to), but just because he's already so emotional with more hormones running wild inside of him than he knows what to do with or has had to deal with since he started testosterone honestly, and unable to hold back those emotions like he usually would instinctually (even though fukuzawa's been trying to coax him into being more open ever since the relationship started but he also knows these things take time)

you know the ADA & PM threw them a surprise baby shower (to mori, at least, fukuzawa knew about it in order to keep mori from knowing about it, and kept him distracted while they were setting it up) too, and mori wept tears of joy when they came home from a "spontaneous day out" to it. he naturally immediately threatened everyone there with a fate worse than death if they told anyone about his reaction, and even though they knew he was absolutely not being serious at all, they don't mention it outside of the attendants lmao

also, fukuzawa holding mori as close as he can, as often and as much as he can, whether they're laying down in bed/on the couch/etc or not, touching him and holding his face and his hands etc, so gently and tenderly, not because he thinks he's "fragile" or anything, but because he loves him so much, mori and their baby both, and they're both so used to only being violent or touch being accompanied with pain or violence that every time they touch and hold each other tenderly is a reminder of how far their lives have come, and a reminder to mori that, this time, their child will grow up with two fathers who love and care about them and want to keep them safe and hold them close and gentle because they love them, and this time mori doesn't have to do it alone, he doesn't have to be the only one trying to save his child (and ultimately, the only one who suffered when he lost her)

fukuzawa resting his head on mori's belly and tracing circles on it with his thumb, cooing softly to their baby while mori knits them a lil stuffed animal to give after they're born (it's a wolf pup) along with a baby blanket

mori being very, very pregnant, but still trying to do things on his own, and hissing at fukuzawa like an angry cat when he tries to help, only to realize he can't properly do the thing and reluctantly letting fukuzawa help as he pouts off to the side lmao

and of course, mori feeling frustrated at "being useless" while pregnant, and fukuzawa saying "you're literally growing a person, inside of your body, with your body's limited resources, all while still also doing things, right now. i don't think that's quite right, my love"

tbh i will never not be weak for fukuzawa being totally enamored with mori growing a little person, their little person, in him because how can i not be. it's precious and also he would be

and of course, head always full of thoughts of. fukuzawa cuddling with mori while he's pregnant and always keeping his hands on mori's belly. mori loves being held by fukuzawa because he feels safe and also loved and also thinks it's absolutely precious how protective fukuzawa gets too. they also are both so very enamored with and in awe of the physical representation of their love, the proof that their baby is healthy and growing and they'll get to meet them soon. they're so in love with their precious little thing long before they arrive and they've never been happier about anything in their lives before

*note: i headcanon mori as a trans man, for those who are new to my blog/posts on here. pls don't tag this as like, omegaverse or au or anything, bc it's Not, it's just canon divergence. heavy canon divergence lmao but canon divergence nonetheless bc this is very much still with the intent of being in the general bsd universe

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werewolfsmile · 1 year ago

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re: "All I’m saying is the fact that someone isn’t talking to me about Eliot Spencer every second of every day is very unfair and borderline illegal." & tags - if you want to, can you elaborate on your werewolf!eliot ideas?? i’d like to hear about it!! if not all good tho :)

Oh boy oh boy oh boy! Yes I would love to elaborate! (buckle up because i have Thoughts)

(wow this really got away from me so uhhh .... warning for 2k of ranting about Eliot as a werewolf?? list of headcanons under the cut)

From the moment I first met Eliot Spencer, I knew he was werewolf-coded. Aside from his insanely fantastic fighting abilities and the absurd amount of punishment he can take, there are many other factors that contribute to his werewolf status.

Eliot needs a pack Our boy is out here working on his own for years and look at all the good it did him! None! He carries severe trauma from his family life because he blames himself for how it all went down and doesn't think he'll be welcomed back. Plus something probably happened during his military days or early PMC days to put him off working with others. Could have been the pain of losing people all the time, could have been something more. Either way, Eliot working on his own is a defence mechanism - but a self-destructive one.

Wolves thrive in packs - like duh, they're pack animals. As my username suggests, I'm into werewolves and, by extension, wolves. I've done research for my own werewolf novels in the past, so I know that in an average wolf pack, each pack member will have physical contact with the other pack members on the regular. Like, several times an hour! (gosh if I can find the research paper this info came from I'll link it but honestly it's been years) That's a serious level of physical contact required to keep the emotional bonds of the pack healthy!

Flick back to Eliot. He loves to fight, he loves the violence and the pain, yes. He hates the killing and the blood on his hands. He actually tries to leave the assassin world behind after he meets Toby (which is before he meets Moreau, as per early dialogue in The French Connection Job). He bonds quickly with Toby. Show Eliot a little love and care and he's yours for life! He moves onto retrieval work, then somehow ends up working for Moreau.

Now, when we see Eliot and Moreau in The Big Bang Job, Moreau says, "You work alone." Which means that Eliot had that reputation when he came to Moreau. He probably only took contracts to start off with. But he accepted job after job from Moreau and was so good that he was highly respect and it's inferred he ended up as Moreau's top bodyguard/assassin. Why the hell would Eliot end up that close to a man who brings out all the worst in him? Because Eliot's a werewolf and no matter how toxic, Moreau fulfills the need for a pack bond that he's been missing all this time.

Fast forward to Eliot meeting the rest of the Leverage team. One job only - my ass. He saves Hardison's life after Hardison brought a gun to their little meeting - and we all know how Eliot feels about guns.

Wolves are designed to live and operate in packs. Eliot says it's one job only but is bonding with them all from the get-go. Werewolf trait confirmed.

Eliot needs physical touch Now, I know what you're thinking. Eliot canonically avoids physical contact with the team. He refuses hugs, especially from Hardison, growls at Parker poking his bruises (don't get me started on the growls), and shoves people (ahem Parker) out of his personal space. So why would he do all this if he needs physical touch??

Because he's one gigantic ball of angst and self-loathing and guilt.

Eliot doesn't think he deserves forgiveness or love or family, etc. That is a whole other rant, but he denies himself the physical contact he needs with others as a way of punishing himself.

However, as the series progresses, we see him become more comfortable with physical contact! He hugs Hardison several times, he doesn't move away from Parker, etc. Why? Because he's bonded with this team (ahem pack) and there's only so much he can suppress his instincts. The more time he spends with them, the more naturally the contact flows.

Eliot needs to protect others Whenever we get a scene of the team walking as a group, where is Eliot positioned 90% of the time?? That's right, at the back of the group. He lets the others walk in pairs and falls back to bring up the rear. He's keeping them all in his line of sight and constantly scanning for threats ahead, along with protecting the team from any rear attacks. It makes sense for him to do this given his military background, but it also makes sense for a werewolf to do this.

He's the only werewolf in the team. His instincts revolve around keeping the pack safe and protected, so he does that in the best way he knows how.

Not to mention how feral gets over kids!!

Wolf life is all about the pack and the family structure. Pups are integral to the pack's survival and future. Eliot doesn't have kids of his own. But that doesn't stop his instincts from blaring every time he interacts with a kid, be it on the con or off. He takes time out every time to help that kid in an attempt to calm the raging storm of instincts inside his body.

Eliot needs to feed others It's another werewolf instinct that rears its head when they're in the safety of their headquarters (ahem den). Protecting the team/pack from physical threats is just one aspect of taking care of them. Feeding them is the other major one.

None of these idiots can cook to save their lives - except Nate, but he's also drowning his liver 90% of the time, so Eliot has to compensate for that, too. The team can't operate at full capacity if they're not consuming good nutrition. So Eliot makes sure to feed them.

His humanity recognises that these are independent people - coworkers - and he can't control every meal of every day. But he can cook for them, once a week or once a job, which is just enough to satisfy his instincts that he's doing his part to care for them. Plus they love his cooking, and the praise he gets from it is an unexpected but pleasant bonus.

Eliot and team sports/kitchens This ties in with my first point about Eliot needing a pack, but all the times we see Eliot go super hard and get absorbed in the role he's playing are when he's on a team sport or he's in the kitchen. Both of these fulfill super important instincts for him - being in a team/pack and providing food for others.

Think about The Tap-Out Job. Eliot's playing a fighter but he's not pretending to be on a team. He doesn't get over-invested in the role. But what about when he's a baseball player? A hockey player? He falls into those roles hard because he's working with another team again, and this little werewolf is built for that environment. Same in The French Connection: the kitchen becomes his den, the students are his pack mates, and he goes hard at investing in them and protecting them. Never mind the personal aspect of Toby.

Same for episodes like The Fairy Godparents Job when we get a scene of Eliot teaching a bunch of girls self-defence. Team setting + protecting kids = happy werewolf instincts.

So, werewolf headcanons? I have a lot of different origin theories but the main one I like for Eliot is:

he became a werewolf either for a covert military op, or was bitten by Moreau (choose your own angst flavour)

if it was for the military, they were trying to engineer supersoldiers and he was deemed a failure; he has werewolf instincts all the time but only has enhanced strength, healing, etc on full moons

if it was bitten by Moreau, there's a psychic-style bond linking them, which is why he was so loyal to Moreau for so long, and also why he is so reluctant to go after Moreau

(wow this is too different theories already and i said this was my 'main one' whoops)

Eliot can only shift easily on the full moon; shifting outside of a full moon can only be caused by extreme stress and is ridiculously painful

he suffers an insanely high prey drive all the time and is so strict about his control because he doesn't actually wanna rip out the throat of Random Guard #3

he used to chain himself up for full moons so he didn't hurt anyone, but since the team found out about him, Hardison and Parker have taken it upon themselves to 'puppy-sit' him every full moon

this involves no chains but an obscene amount of dog chew toys. Eliot is never impressed. He also never chases or chews the toys. The video evidence Hardison has was obviously doctored.

Hardison and Parker found out the truth when a con went sideways and Eliot was trapped in a room with them during the full moon

he was terrified he was going to kill them - or worse, bite them - but his instincts recognised them as pack so instead he just tried to wrestle with them all night

Hardison had a major freak out when he discovered Eliot was a werewolf - it's one thing to be obsessed with sci-fi/fantasy, it's another thing entirely to see your best friend transform before your eyes

Parker was not even remotely phased, being all like, "pfft of course werewolves are real, I thought you knew that Hardison, you talk about your elves and orcs all the time!"

"Woman that is completely different and you know it!"

"What else do you think is fake? The tooth fairy?? Ha!"

Eliot is Done With Their Shenanigans

Parker only ever refers to Eliot as Sparky when he's in his wolf form

Sophie didn't actually know about werewolves before the reveal but she pretends that she did

Nate knew about werewolves before Eliot, he just chooses to pretend that they're Not A Thing

werewolves generally don't make good hitters, because the constant exposure to violence ramps up their hunting instincts aka they find it hard not to kill

of course, this doesn't matter if you're someone like Moreau who specifically wants killing machines and thus turns his top hitters into werewolves, to ensure loyalty and enhance his strength

the only other werewolf hitter not under Moreau's control that Eliot knows is Quinn, who most certainly did not pull his werewolf strength punches when they tousled in The First David Job

Quinn doesn't have a pack (werewolf or otherwise) and genuinely doesn't seem phased by this, which pisses off Eliot to no end

however, after they work together in The Last Dam Job, Quinn deems himself Eliot's Best Werewolf Bud and keeps popping up randomly to hang out on full moons, etc

Parker and Hardison are a bit weirded out (and a little jealous) of Quinn's attention initially, but soon get over that when they discover that two werewolves on a full moon absolutely play for hours like 6 month old puppies - especially with the tug rope

Eliot is Extremely Susceptible to belly rubs even in his human form, which is half the reason he pushes people out of his personal space a lot - his reputation would never survive anyone finding out

of course the entire team figures it out and take to ambushing him with belly rubs whenever he's being stubborn or annoying

belly rubs are also the only way he will relax enough when he's injured so they can treat his wounds

despite the incessant dog jokes, the ever-growing pile of dog toys, and the bowls labelled with "Sparky" and cartoon bone symbols ... Eliot absolutely adores the pack he's found himself in and wouldn't change them for the world

One of these days I will sit down and write a thousand fics for werewolf!Eliot! Till then, I'll just keep churning out the headcanons ;)

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licityvibes · 1 year ago

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Will I ever see you again? CHAPTER 2: Slow Down

Author: orshii

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x reader

Warning: cursing, violence, alcohol consumption, drug use

Word count: 5 k

Summary: You were left alone with your brother, Yunho, and his best friend Hongjoong, after your parents' death. Yunho had someone to grieve with, but you? You had no one as your brother and his best friend pushed you away, singing becoming your only savior. There was one rule that Yunho made inside his friend group: “Don’t touch my sister”. And for this reason, Hongjoong had always kept his distance. But one night, you find yourself in danger. And from then on, Hongjoong does not leave your side. He is suddenly overprotective of you, and your relationship shifts and becomes fraught with tension and unspoken feelings, with secrets lurking beneath the surface and a painful past haunting you. Will you find out the secrets your brother and best friend have been keeping away from you? Will you be able to finally free yourself from your cruel past?

Will you fall in love amidst the chaos around you?

A/N: Chapter 2 is here finally, sorry for updating so late, I just needed to figure out some things in the story. More secrets are coming to the surface and their connection gets a little...hotter. Poor Wooyoungie tho. Idk about you but I love this possessive Hj haha, and it'll get more interesting. Thank you for reading, byee!

Taglist: @bvidzsoo @vixensss @deltamoon666 @scarfac3 @chatsgotmytongue @xiang-zalea (taglist is open if interested)

The four men stared at me like they were the hunters and I was their prey.

"Now that fucker, Yunho, will give back the money he owns us, for sure." The tallest man said, stepping closer to me.

I slowly stood up; they were only inches apart from me. I inhaled deeply, trying to get myself together. There was no point in panicking. No one was here to save me, I needed to save myself. I looked around, two men were standing on my right side and the other two were on my left side. They were blocking my car, the takeaway food was splashed on the dirty ground, and my bag with my keys was meters away from me, getting to my car wasn't a choice now; I needed to run.

"What money?" I asked and slowly, very carefully stepped back, trying to appear confident.

"Your brother robbed us, and took all of our money, so he will pay now." Again, the tallest man stepped closer to me as I stepped back. I guessed he was their leader.

He grabbed my chin and lifted it aggressively, "We should play a little with this slut." His mouth was barely inches away from my face. I felt disgusted.

Fuck, this isn't good. I needed to think, very quickly. Suddenly, Hongjoong’s words were echoing in my brain.

If your timing is perfect, your enemy will be on the floor in seconds.

I remembered what Hongjoong taught me. Four against one isn't fair. I can't just knock them all out. A stupid plan started to form in my mind as I took in my surroundings carefully, analyzing where I could run, and I knew— It was now or never baby. The man was trying to say something when I suddenly shouted.

"Look, what is that?!" I said as the four men looked behind themselves. I quickly punched the man in front of me, right in his solar plexus, and he was on the floor in seconds. But I had no time to wander around. I started to run, run for my fucking life. I ran opposite my car, into the dark streets. I looked behind me and the three men were running after me, the fourth a little behind. I was breathing heavily, I wasn't used to running, it was ridiculous, this predicament was a joke. Adrenaline crawled through my body as I was still running, and looking behind my back, I saw the four men slowing down. I guess they weren’t used to running, fuckers. I knew this town just like the back of my hand, so I knew a place where I could hide, I just needed to get there.

I ran down short and narrow streets, turning left, then right. I don't fucking know what kept me going, but the adrenaline pumping through my body gave me some kind of superpower. I even climbed over fences; I was running like the Flash. I didn't recognize myself, it was as if someone kept me going, giving me the power to go, to not stop. Then I let myself look behind me again, and I saw no one.

However, I didn't stop running until I reached an old building where we always played with Yunho when we were little. The memories suddenly hit me at once: numerous times when we’d snuck out with Yunho to play here because somehow, we felt happy and safe here. That is why I came to this place, it always gave us security, making me believe that I would be safe this time too. When I finally went into the building and sat down, I held my breath for a short minute, just to make sure no one was following me, and that was when I finally started to panic. Suddenly, everything hit me like I was a punching bag. I took quick breaths, trying to understand what the hell happened mere minutes ago.

Did they try to kill me? Who knows what the hell they wanted to do to me…

What the fuck did Yunho get into? What money were they talking about?

My body was shaking from running and from the overwhelming emotions that flew through my system. I started sobbing, lifting my knees to my chest, grabbing my hair with my hands. Then I started to laugh, at this whole situation, at the fact that my stupid plan worked. I needed to cry because I did not know what all of this was, I was so confused about what just happened. My heart was beating fast, it felt like it might explode at some point. After ten minutes, somehow, I got myself together, and after breathing in and out a few times, I pulled my phone out to text Yunho.

ME: Someone fucking attacked me, and they talked about some money you owe them. What the fuck Yunho?

For a moment, quiet overtook the abandoned house, and then suddenly, my phone's screen lit up. Yunho was calling me.

"Where the fuck are you?" I heard Yunho's voice immediately as I picked up.

"At the old abandoned house." I told him.

"Are you okay?" He asked worriedly.

"Yes, I ran away." I said quietly.

"Stay there, don't go out until we arrive!" He said, his voice furious, and hung up quickly.

I waited in the dark, it swallowed me like I was one with it. I just stared at the white wall in front of me, which seemed almost black from the lack of lightning as it barely lit up the abandoned house due to the streetlights being faulty.

I didn’t even realize how much time had gone by when I finally heard a car quickly stopping with its tires screeching and two doors slamming shut. I stood up and looked out the window, and saw Yunho and Hongjoong. Of course, Hongjoong just couldn’t stay out of this. I stepped out of the building and was met with two pairs of worried eyes. Yunho quickly ran towards me and hugged me.

"Fuck, are you okay?" He grabbed my face to check if I was hurt.

"Yes, I'm okay." I pushed his hands away.

"What the fuck happened?" Hongjoong asked, stepping closer to me and checking my body, trying to find an injury.

"I was at Granny's ordering some food and when I went out to my car, suddenly four men appeared and they pushed me onto the ground—and they were talking about some fucking money and Yunho—I somehow ran away, I was lucky, I guess—I don't get it, what the hell—who are they?" I quickly told them what happened, stammering as I felt overwhelmed again.

"Fuck, this is because you couldn't shut your mouth, Yunho!" Hongjoong said, angrily looking at him.

"What the fuck, Hong?! It was necessary for our plan, what else could I do, do tell me, please!" Yunho shouted at Hongjoong.

"They fucking attacked Y/N! Who knows what the hell they are going to do next time." Hongjoong pointed at me. "Your plan is shit; we can't do this anymore." Hongjoong stepped closer to Yunho, staring at him with sharp eyes.

Again. Like I was not even fucking there.

"What plan? Oh, my God, tell me something for fuck's sake!" I shouted at them.

They looked at me like they were surprised I was there too.

"It's none of your business, we will take care of it, don't worry." Yunho said, trying to hold my hand.

I scoffed and pushed him away. "Yeah, of course. Take me to my car." I went to Hongjoong's venom-green Mustang Shelby and sat in the backseat.

I was so fucking angry, I felt sick. The fact that they never tell me anything at all, made me feel again like I was just a fucking object, never truly acknowledged and cared for. I hated them. Yunho and Hongjoong.

As I got angrier, so did the familiar melody I heard playing in my head again…

≫The furious dragon sped through the clouds

Just to bring the storm to the people who deserve it≪

When we reached my car, as soon as Hongjoong stopped, I got out of his car and went to collect my things that were still scattered around the dirty ground, and went right to my car, sitting in it. I locked the car so Yunho couldn't sit inside too, because I knew, that from now on, they were going to turn into my fucking babysitters. I turned the engine on and quickly drove away, not wishing to see them.

The next morning when I woke up, I felt like a zombie. I hadn't slept well because I had nightmares about dark figures trying to push me down to the ground, just until I drowned in the sudden water that appeared out of nowhere, hands that seemed like shadows pulling me deep down to the bottom of the ocean.

I went down to the kitchen so that I could eat something before I attended my classes as yesterday night I had no appetite to eat anything. When I was close to the kitchen’s door, I overheard Yunho and Hongjoong talking.

"We have to find them before they find us." I heard Yunho say, his voice still raspy as I assumed he got up just a few minutes ago.

"Yes, but we don't know where they are. They are not the foolish type to stay in plain sight, this whole thing seems to run way deeper than it initially seemed to." Hongjoong said in a low voice.

"I easily fooled them still." I said stepping inside the kitchen, and they looked at me surprised.

"You just had luck." Hongjoong said with fierce eyes, looking at me only for a second before he returned to the table.

"Are you kidding me?! If I would've panicked, I wouldn't be fucking here." I scoffed at him, going to the counter to grab a glass and pour some water for myself.

"I'm glad you were smart and tricked those motherfuckers, I'm proud of you." Yunho came to stand next to me, pecked my temple, and ruffled my hair.

I wanted to slap him, but he slipped away chuckling before I could, "You coming to Mist tonight? There's going to be a party." Yunho asked.

I shrugged, "I don't know, I'll speak to Yeosang to see if he’s going."

"Alright. I'll grab my stuff and then we can go, Hong." Yunho said leaving the kitchen.

I poured water into my glass and turned around, leaning against the counter.

I looked straight into Hongjoong's eyes, "Will you tell me who those men were? I want to help you; who knows, maybe I can recognize the ones that attacked me." I said, lifting the glass to my mouth to drink, but Hongjoong stood up and came right in front of me and grabbed my wrist, stopping me from drinking it.

"Don't try and bump your nose into things you shouldn’t, just be a good girl and stay low. You saw what happened, so just stay the fuck out of this." His eyes burned me like I was a match waiting to be lit up, burn me down until I was nothing.

"You make it sound like this is my fucking fault. Is it my fault that four men tried to fucking kill me? Were you there? No. So stop telling me to ‘stay low’, when none of this is my fault." I yelled at him furiously. I was sick of this shit already. His face remained impassive and cold, but I didn’t care anymore. I didn't want to see him, so I went back to my room to get ready for my classes having lost my appetite.

The furious melody did not want to leave my mind again, playing it over and over, until my mind found the right words to match with.

≫The world sees you as a fool

Like you are the fault in the stars≪

My classes went by quickly, thank God. I was with Yeosang the whole day and we decided we'd go to the party. We really needed some partying before our exams started. It was a good excuse to let go of everything. I needed to catch a break from my thoughts because if not, I might drown in them.

Yeosang helped me choose my outfit for the party, which consisted of a tight black skirt, paired with a white crop top, alongside black high boots reaching up to my knees. My hair fell onto my shoulders naturally, and I put on some make-up and accessories. Yeosang wore black ripped jeans and a green blouse with a low cut, his collarbones exposed. He put on a necklace with a padlock on it. I figured he wanted to find someone that would have the key to open it. Well, anyways, that’s what I told him, making him laugh, until he suddenly turned serious and said,

‘True’. I was sure he’d find someone tonight because, damn, he looked so beautiful I got nothing on him.

When we arrived at Mist it was already crowded. It took us longer to arrive because on our way, we decided to buy Whiskey and then we secretly drank it on the bus, on our way towards the club. We laughed loudly during the ride, conversing animatedly, drawing attention to us, pissing the people off around us. So, by the time we had arrived, we were already tipsy enough to start dancing, joining the crowd. We became one with the dancing bodies, becoming one of them. This was what I needed—To get away from my thoughts.

I felt the rhythm of the music slowly engulf my being, spreading from my head to my toes. The strangers’ bodies hugged around us as I held Yeosang's hand while we jumped up and down happily to the strong rhythm of the music. The music was loud, the colorful lights blinding us as we danced like there was no tomorrow. After a while, we decided to drink something as we had started sobering up, and that wasn't the plan at all. So, we went to the bar.

"Two gin tonics and tequila shots, please." I shouted to the bartender, trying to speak over the loud music. I knew him, he was from Yunho's friend circle, Jung Wooyoung.

"Isn't that too much for a pretty girl like you?" Wooyoung looked at me with his sharp foxy eyes. He had two piercings near his eyebrows, making him look even more intimidating. He wore a simple black T-shirt paired with ripped jeans. He had a few earrings and rings too. I couldn’t lie; he was handsome as hell.

"It's not, and I'm here too." Yeosang stepped in, next to me, staring at Wooyoung pointedly.

Wooyoung chuckled as he started preparing our drinks. I looked around, but I didn't see Yunho anywhere. Maybe he was making out with a girl, somewhere deep in the crowd, or was trying to piss Mingi off. Suddenly, my eyes landed on someone. Someone who was smiling, and that someone was Kim Hongjoong. I promise to God, it was a rare sight to see his smile, let alone hear his laugh. A girl was next to him and as he leaned against the wall, he whispered something in her ear while holding her waist. It was quite obvious what he was doing, shamelessly flirting with her. It was weird seeing Hongjoong like this, he never really did things like that. At least not when I was around.

He was wearing jeans that were two colored, these colors the opposite of his hair black and white hair. The top part of his body was hugged by a white T-shirt and a denim jacket, black boots his choice of footing for the night. He had a good sense of fashion, that was obvious.

The longer I kept staring at him, the more I realized I should do what he was doing. I should let go and just feel free for one night, if possible. I turned back to face Wooyoung as he had finished mixing our drinks. Yeosang and I downed the tequila shots right away, and then, he suddenly leaned closer to me.

"Can I leave you here for a little bit? I might have found the one holding the key to my padlock." Yeosang winked at me.

"Yes, of course, go." I smiled at him, pushing him away playfully. I watched as he disappeared between the dancing bodies when suddenly an idea came to my mind. I turned towards Wooyoung again.

"Do you have something—stronger? You know…" I looked at him while trailing off, hoping he knew what I meant.

He slightly frowned at me, a small smirk present on his lips, "You mean, pills?"

"Yeah." I said, trying to sound and look convincing.

"I do have some." He kept his sharp eyes on me while he wiped a wet glass dry, "Do you want some, pretty girl?"

"I do, actually." I looked at him, batting my eyelashes at him with a sweet smile on my lips.

I wasn’t really sure if he knew whose sister I was, and so, I wanted to take advantage of that.

He leaned over the counter, face close to mine, "If you dance with me, I'll give you some." He whispered so close to my lips that they almost touched mine.

I looked down at his lips, then up into his sharp eyes, “Don't you need to work?"

"My shift is over, pretty one." He said smiling charmingly, never taking his eyes off me.

"Okay." I agreed in the end, I could use some fun too.

He smirked and moved away from me to get the pill, and then walked around the counter. He stepped closer to me as he held something in his hand. Then he slowly poked his tongue out and placed the pill on it, his eyes never leaving mine. He raised one of his eyebrows as if he meant to say, 'Take it if you want it', while leaning towards me. My heart started racing. Fuck, he looked so hot like this, why wouldn't I take this one-time opportunity? I slowly leaned down, closer to his face, feeling his hot breathing puffing against my lips. But he didn’t wait until I was close enough to kiss him. Wooyoung eagerly closed the distance between our lips, crashing them together like there wasn't a pill slipping past our entangled tongues. I felt when the pill finally was passed onto my tongue, into my mouth, but we didn’t pull away straight away. His lips moved against mine, rushed, his tongue discovering my mouth as I moved mine along his. My arms slowly crawled around his neck as he pulled me closer to him by my waist. That is until I felt a strong hand grabbing my left shoulder, yanking me away from Wooyoung. He bit my bottom lip painfully due to the sudden motion. I could taste blood, mingled with Wooyoung’s saliva.

I turned to look stunned at the one who yanked me off, it being none other than Hongjoong. He looked so furious I was afraid he might kill someone. And I wasn't joking as he grabbed Wooyoung's shirt and pulled him close aggressively, his T-shirt threatening to tear apart at any second.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Wooyoung?" Hongjoong said in a low tone, he was shaking as he held Wooyoung.

"Dude, chill, what the fuck did I do?!" Wooyoung asked, looking confused.

"Did you give her pills? Are you insane?" Hongjoong pushed Wooyoung a bit, still not letting him go.

"Yes, because she asked. Now let go of me, you fucker." Wooyoung pushed Hongjoong's hands off himself. As Hongjoong released him, Wooyoung tried to straighten his T-shirt.

"She’s Yunho's sister; you should be grateful I was the one who found you two like this." Hongjoong said, looking at me for a second, making me feel little under his sharp gaze.

"So what? It should bother Yunho, not you. What?” Wooyoung asked, lifting his pierced eyebrow, “Are you fucking her behind his back?"

It truly was the worst idea to provoke Hongjoong, because as he heard the things Wooyoung uttered, he lost his morality. He didn’t care that the guy in front of him was one of his best friends. He punched Wooyoung with the force of a boxer, obviously, and it made Wooyoung fall to the ground immediately. Luckily, Hongjoong didn’t knock him out, I guess he still had that very little sanity in himself still. I gasped, however, hardly believing my eyes. Did Hongjoong just hit Wooyoung?!

"What the fuck, Hongjoong, are you out of your mind?!" I shouted at him, my body trembling from the sudden anger I felt.

He suddenly turned around, coming towards me. He grabbed my chin and lifted it up to look straight into my eyes. "Spit it out!" He commanded like I didn’t have a choice at all.

I poked out my tongue, just to show him that there wasn’t anything on it anymore, "Fuck off, you are not my brother Hongjoong! You are acting ridiculous." I said to him, pushing him away and turning my back to him. I wanted to go back and dance, lose myself to the music and the people around me.

But suddenly, Hongjoong pulled me back by my wrist. "I'm going to take you home, right now." He said with a face void of emotion, making me unable to read what he thought and felt, it was fucking annoying.

"I'm not going anywhere!" I shouted at him, trying to free my wrist from his hold.

He stepped even closer, holding my wrist harsher. I was sure his grasp was going to leave black and blue marks, "Yes, you are!"

But I couldn't really do anything as he dragged me out of the buzzing place, towards his venom-green Mustang, still squeezing my wrist painfully. He opened the passenger side door and pushed me inside. I didn’t recognize this Hongjoong, he was someone else, some kind of demon had taken over him, fighting for who would be in control. I was shaking as I felt terrified of the thought that he might hurt me; he could do anything to me if he wanted to. He probably saw me shake because he broke the silence as he started driving.

"I won't hurt you, Y/N. I would never." He said quietly, looking forward as his hands clenched around the steering wheel.

Still, I looked down at my wrists, where some faint red bruises started to appear. I just leaned my head against the window, to gaze out at our moving surroundings. Tears started appearing in my eyes as I suddenly felt so many emotions all at once that I couldn't handle. I started feeling dizzy, remembering the pill I took. It finally kicked in, making me feel numb, as if my soul left my body. This was the feeling I craved for, but not in this setting, I’d rather be anywhere but here. I cradled my wrist to my chest, 'Yes, you would never…'

The long-forgotten melody crept into my mind, trying to break through my thoughts, break my walls down, to save me from there. I let go as words broke through my walls.

≫The moon has two sides as well, a dark and a bright side

Who knows which one will light the dark at night≪

“Why did you kiss him?” Hongjoong suddenly broke the deafening silence.

I looked at him with a frown, “Because I wanted to?” Words barely came out of my mouth as everything felt blurry.

He suddenly stepped on the gas pedal, speeding down the way home, “And do you want him?” His voice got lower as he clenched the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

“What are you talking about?” I was looking at his side profile, watching as he got angrier than he was before. He floored the gas pedal and we were flying down the silent streets.

“Do. You. Want. Him?” He glanced my way, a dangerous glint in his eyes. I held onto the door as I was pushed back into my seat by the sudden force.

“For fuck’s sake Hongjoong, slow down! Are you crazy?!” I shouted frightened as he continued speeding.

“Answer my question!” His voice got even louder now, and he had to shout over the sound of the loud engine of his Mustang.

My heart was thumping like crazy, breathing heavily. I felt overwhelmed and overstimulated from the drug and the alcohol, and now the adrenaline too, the sudden speed making me feel like I was about to collapse any time.

“No!” I shouted, “I don’t want him! Just please slow down.” My voice cracked as I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore.

Then, as if his sanity finally returned, he slowed down, not daring to look at me. When he pulled up in front of our house, it was quiet. It was quiet, but at the same time, it was the loudest as my brain was full of loud noises. I looked at his side profile, I could only see the black side of his hair, his dark side as he looked like he was still battling with his inner torment, biting his lower lip. I didn't dare move; I was scared if I did, he’d do something brash again.

He then slowly looked at me, "Are you shaking?" He looked panicked.

I couldn't control my body, there was too much happening at once. The alcohol mixed with the pill, I couldn't even think—of course, I was shaking.

I just looked down at my hands, as the world spun around me.

"Fuck, Y/N!" He took my hand, my wrist now bruised.

I looked up, just to see him looking worried. He seemed like he couldn't even believe he was the one to harm me. Yet now, he held my hand in the most delicate way possible, holding it as if it were a treasure.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N, please forgive me." He looked into my eyes with his own teary ones. He was finally allowing me to see the real him, he lowered his walls.

He raised my hand towards his lips and left little kisses on the bruises, whispering little apologies against my skin, as if he could heal it like that.

I watched him, still struggling to process what was happening, "Please, just take me to my room, I don't feel good." I closed my eyes and it was a mistake because I felt like I was on a roller-coaster. He snatched his head up quickly and opened his door when he saw my face. He ran around the car to open the passenger door.

"I got you, sugar." He whispered, leaning down to slowly help me out of the car and hold me up bridal style, holding me close to his chest so that he wouldn't drop me. I hid my face in his neck, his scent hugging me around. It was dark, yet still sweet like honey.

I felt us going up the stairs after Hongjoong had managed to unlock the front door and walk inside the dark house, finally reaching my room. He slowly, and very carefully placed me down on my soft bed. I closed my eyes as he pulled my boots down.

"Do you need water or something else?" He leaned down, holding himself up by his right hand placed next to my head, his two-colored hair falling into his eyes. His other hand caressed my cheekbones. I couldn't speak, so I just shook my head no.

Suddenly, we were staring at each other as if we were like two magnets, not even blinking.

"Kiss me." I suddenly whispered, surprising myself too, having suddenly found my voice.

"I can't, and you know that." Hongjoong whispered, leaning down closer to me, even though he had stated just the opposite of his actions.

"It's just a fucking kiss, don't be a scared little cat, Joong." I whispered against his lips, brushing my thumb over his soft lips, trying to tease him. He would break eventually. And I liked playing games.

I don't know what came over me, but I just needed to kiss him desperately. Even though he treated me like shit, and shouted at me, I was still lost in his eyes, which stared into mine with a flaring desire. He continued looking at me as if he was fighting with himself, trying not to make a bad decision.

"Please." I whispered, looking up at him pleadingly.

"Fuck." Then he suddenly crashed his lips against mine. He tasted sweet, like strawberry cake. The kiss wasn't hurried, it was slow as our lips moved together passionately. I moved my hands slowly up, to bury them in his hair, pulling him even closer to myself. He kissed me even more animatedly, possessive almost as if he were an addict and I was his drug. But the moment didn’t last for long, emotion dissipating just as fast as it came, as we suddenly heard the front door slamming shut. Hongjoong immediately jumped away, standing up to his full height.

"Shit." He ran his fingers through his messy hair. "This never happened." He looked at me with eyes ablaze as I continued lying in my bed.

I pushed myself up onto my elbows to look at him better, "Yeah, I just knew you couldn't resist me." I grinned at him.

Hongjoong scoffed, "You’re crazy." And then he left me there, in the dark, as I still felt his lips on mine.

≫Two sins met each other

Just to collapse together like magnets≪

As they were just outside my room, I heard Hongjoong telling Yunho that he drove me home because I wasn't feeling well, and then Yunho thanked him footsteps fading.

Not knowing that Hongjoong had kissed his little sister merely a few minutes ago.

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