#moo-moo-moon-writing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 months ago

Text

A Curse [Chapter 11: Westchester]

A/N: Only 1 chapter left 🪄

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent…at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon’s right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), age-gap situationship, illness/death/hospital stuff, a Targ family gathering!

Word count: 6.2k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰

🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️

In the darkness of your nightscape bedroom—plumes of neon and incandescence floating beyond the window like man-made stars—you read Becca’s Instagram posts and blog entries about how brave Aegon has been in the wake of his diagnosis, and between the lines of course is her courage too: the caretaker, the self-sacrificial curator, the saintly hands his demise has been entrusted into, his long slow disintegration until only the bones are left, no memories, no dreams, no future and no past.

The last weeks of August float away like a balloon, carried high and quick into a sky that is dizzyingly hot and so bright it stings the eyes. On sidewalks, you hide under the shade of palm trees. On lunch dates with Chloe—running lines, trying perplexing new foods like escargot and sea urchin, giggling over celebrity gossip—you ask for tables inside or under the refuge of patio umbrellas. Each night in your apartment that Aegon now pays your half of the rent for, religiously deposited in your bank account by Brandon at a least one full week before it’s due, you lie in the bathtub reading the movie script or books on the Gilded Age until the water turns lukewarm and steam glistens on your skin; and into these infinitesimal black-ink worlds you disappear, a new name, a distant time, a different man who has stitched himself to you with dissolving threads.

Now you are in Chinatown with Aegon, and the ember-colored oscars are murderous and darting back and forth as he skims his fingers across the top of the tank, and you have devoured your moo goo gai pan but Aegon has barely touched his boneless spare ribs. His is listless and distracted. Strands of sandy blonde hair are falling out of their gel to rest across his forehead. There are dark shadows like smudges of ash under his eyes. Your own eyes are adorned with shimmering dusty rose powder to match your sundress, three shades blended together, all by Urban Decay: Liar, Stolen, Right Time.

“I really think you should see a doctor,” you tell Aegon, not for the first time.

“I might,” he says absently, still tormenting the oscars.

“It can only help at this point. They could confirm the diagnosis and get you on a treatment plan. I’ve been researching it and there are drugs that suppress tremors, and physical therapy, and antidepressants...and oh, these things called ‘dopamine agonists’ that are good for motor functions...and they even have Huntington’s support groups!”

Aegon sighs.

“If you make an appointment, I’ll go with you,” you say. “Any day, any time, I don’t care, I’ll go. I’ll reschedule whatever else I have on my calendar.” Workouts with your personal trainer, meetings with your dialect coach, calls with Dusty or Santi or anyone else from the film, outings with Chloe, a life that is growing abundant and bright like a full moon.

“Maybe.” Then Aegon studies his Chinese zodiac calendar, an attempt to change the subject. And you’ll let him; you don’t want to spend the time you have left arguing. “What year were you born?” he asks, as if you’ve never had this conversation before. “Which animals is yours?”

And instead of being offended, frustrated, startled, you just force a smile and hold up your hands in the shape of claws. “I’m a dragon, Aegon.”

He leans in close to read the description: You are eccentric and your life complex. You have a very passionate nature and abundant health. Then he laughs. “Oh yeah, of course you are. Sounds just like you.”

“And you’re a horse.”

“Do you like horses?”

“I like one,” you say, and Aegon grins and offers you a forkful of his boneless spare ribs, dripping viscous red sauce like bad blood.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Saturday, August 30th, and the wedding is exactly one week away. The Targaryens are throwing a bon voyage party for Aegon at their Malibu beach house, something planned a month in advance, although it has a certain somberness to it now. Alicent keeps dabbing at her large dark eyes with a green handkerchief, collecting herself, crumpling into tears again. Guests are murmuring gravely about their vague, archaic memories of Viserys: Saw him in a wheelchair a few times...then he just disappeared...never really asked...a Hollywood legend like that...wanted to respect his privacy...such a lovely family...how awful they’re going through this all over again.

Aegon has dispatched Becca to ready the new house in Houston, a project that she is posting about on Instagram with great frequency and euphoric triumph; she has been given a vital task. If she suspects his true motivations for wanting her two time zones and 1,500 miles away, she gives no indications of it. In Becca’s absence—and much to your own surprise—you are Aegon’s plus one on this hot, golden afternoon as salt-smelling wind blows in off the Pacific Ocean and children splash in the pool.

As your floral yellow sundress billows and the breeze tangles your hair, you smile and chat with the series of guests that Aegon introduces you to, distant relatives, industry people, the new agent he keeps trying to offload you onto, a bookish young woman named Kristen who is perfectly polite and surely very knowledgeable and yet not the one you want. Kristen didn’t agree to sign you when no one else would. Kristen didn’t put her knuckles into the wall of a Beverly Hills mansion for you.

Several of the party guests recognize you from the Maroon 5 music video and congratulate you on your starring role in your upcoming indie movie, which has just been publicly announced. Each time the conversation drifts towards Aegon—his misfortunate diagnosis, his exodus to Texas—he steers it back to you. He doesn’t want to talk about himself, of course, or his situation, or the fate that awaits him in Houston, and that’s part of it; but he’s also proud of you. He’s taking full advantage of one of his last chances to advocate for you. He’s going down swinging.

Now Aegon is eating hors d’oeuvres with his other recent clients, Steve, Fatima, and Angus, all of whom have found new agents with Aegon’s assistance, and you are sitting on the ledge of the swimming pool with the hem of your dress tucked under your thighs and your legs submerged to the knees. Helaena has children, which isn’t something Aegon ever mentioned before; there are four of them, wreaking havoc in the pool as they play volleyball with their friends, hurling a beach ball back and forth over a miniature net. You are keeping score for them and serving as the cheerleader, which is much preferrable to making small talk with self-important industry executives or listening to people sigh over how selfless Becca is for assuming this burden.

Aemond wanders over to you, dressed in his version of casual: a full suit, but beige instead of black or navy. He doesn’t say anything. He observes the kids playing for a while, though you have the sense he isn’t really seeing them. You peek covertly at the scar that cuts down the left side of his grim face, and you remember what Aegon told you about Viserys: He’s the reason my mother still has nightmares. He’s the reason Aemond lost his eye.

“You’ll watch out for him, right?” you say anxiously to Aemond. “Even when he’s in Texas?”

He gives you an impatient look, like you’re stupid for asking. “I’ll always make sure he’s taken care of. There’s nowhere he could run that would be far enough to keep me away.”

You are relieved. “Good.” You glance over at Aegon to check on him; he is still mingling with his former clients, and he seems happy. Then you find Alicent in the crowd. She is ever-encircled by Helaena and Daeron, who appear to be trying to distract her. The beach house is besieged by blue balloons. A DJ is playing artists that you recognize from Aegon’s extensive Spotify playlist: Alanis Morissette, Pearl Jam, Third Eye Blind, the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

“I really wish he’d see a doctor,” Aemond says after a while, his voice low to be discrete. “We have great specialists here at Cedars-Sinai.”

“He has an appointment on Wednesday morning. I finally got him to make one.”

Aemond stares down at you, mystified, suspicious. “Who are you?”

“What do you mean? I’m a client.”

“Yes, I know that,” Aemond says; again, like you might be a little slow. “Why do you always know what he’s up to? Why does he care what you think? He doesn’t care what anybody thinks.”

You aren’t sure how to answer. You avoid the question by lobbing away the beach ball when a child’s spike sends it hurtling at you.

“He talks about you a lot,” Aemond says. “He insists that you’re a good actress. He asks me to help you. And then he forgets that he asked, and he asks again.”

“I don’t know why he cares what I think.”

“Sure you don’t.” Aemond’s brow is furrowed and his eyes narrowed: one real, one eternally unseeing. “Are you going with him on Wednesday?”

“I am,” you admit.

“Give me your phone.”

You comply immediately, digging it out of your floral Patricia Nash purse. Aemond Targaryen is not an easy man to refuse. He types something quickly as he stands beside the pool. One of the children giggles as they swim up to the edge and splash him with chlorinated water, wetting his beige suit and brown leather Gucci shoes. Aemond sighs irritably.

“I put myself in as a contact,” Aemond says when he returns your phone. “After his appointment, call me and tell me everything the doctor said.”

“Okay.” Aegon probably wouldn’t approve of that, but it’s good for him.

Then Aemond does something unexpected. He reaches out to you, and for a second you instinctively flinch away, but his hand is gentle; Aemond’s palm settles on the back of your neck, and you blink up at him, bewildered. “I’m sorry you’re losing him too,” Aemond says, soft and strangely tender. Then he swipes something off his right cheek and leaves, weaving through the crowd to join his mother, who is pretending to fret over a rapidly melting ice sculpture—a Texas Longhorn—so she won’t have to think about Aegon instead.

A child is tugging at you, grappling for your hand with slippery, dripping fingers and then trying to drag you into the pool. “Come swimming!” a little girl, maybe eight or nine years old, is crowing with a missing-baby-teeth grin. “We’re going to play Marco Polo. You can be the person who shouts Marco! and tries to find us.”

You laugh. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have a swimsuit. I didn’t know this was a pool party.” Aegon neglected to mention that part.

“Please?” she begs, and now the other children are joining in, a chorus of reckless encouragement. You have the impression they aren’t often able to cajole the adults into playing with them. And the little girl looks so much like Aegon—same eyes, same hair—that you find yourself thinking: When he’s gone, will there really be nothing left of him? Is that possible?

“Alright, I’m coming in!” you announce, and the kids cheer. You shove your purse far enough away from the pool that your phone should be safe, and then you slide off the ledge and into the water: brisk blue currents that thrash as the children flee away from you, giggling as they hug the curved cement corners, poised to bolt again if you venture towards them.

“Now close your eyes,” the little girl demands, and you cover them with your palms. You feel her shoving you and it takes you a few seconds to realize what she wants: for you to spin around. You do this as quickly as you can until you are completely disoriented, stumbling, blind, laughing as you reach out with your eyes squeezed shut, your yellow sundress flowing around you in the cool water like the fanlike fins of a koi fish.

“Marco,” you say.

“Polo!” the children yell, and then squeal as you lunge for them. Waves swell through the pool, water droplets from their kicking feet spray across your face. There’s sun on your bare shoulders as your legs traverse the rough concrete floor in slow motion, your steps heavy and silent. You can hear adults muttering in scandalized disapproval: Who is that? What’s wrong with her?

“Marco?” you call out again.

“Polo!” a gaggle of children hurl back, too many; the voices seem to come from everywhere. You can’t pinpoint a direction, so you choose one at random and dive.

“Marco!” you shout, then yelp as you bump into the side of the pool and stun yourself.

Someone grabs your outstretched hands. “Polo,” Aegon says, and you open your eyes to see him kneeling at the edge of the water. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks, but he’s smiling; he helps you scramble back up onto the ledge of the pool.

“They wanted me to play with them.”

“You could have said no.”

“I can never say no to kids. They walk all over me.”

“You’re too nice.”

“I’ve heard that before.” Though it doesn’t sound so much like a criticism when Aegon says it. He sits down beside you on the ledge of the pool and lets his legs dangle in the water; he has kicked off his flip-flops to rest haphazardly beside your tan wedges. He is wearing white cargo shorts and a powder blue short-sleeve Oxford that is at least a size too big for him. He’s losing weight, you think, forlorn. He’s disappearing.

Helaena arrives with a towel—very thick and soft, doubtlessly expensive—and gives it to you. She is one of the few party guests who do not seem horrified by your antics; instead, she titters and tells the children not to entrap you again, that you’ll play with them later. They resume their game of Marco Polo with a new blind explorer. As you wrap the towel around your shoulders, Aegon takes a corner and uses it to dry your face. Then he gazes out over the patio towards the Pacific Ocean, ignoring the children. He never really interacts with kids, you’ve noticed; even when he watches them with a transfixed sort of wonder, he keeps an expanse of space between them like an alcoholic trying to stay away from the drink.

“You could have done IVF,” you say, and Aegon looks at you, eyebrows raised, a how did you know what I was thinking? sort of expression. “They can screen the embryos for chromosomal defects and only implant the ones that are healthy. So you’d know the baby wouldn’t have Huntington’s.”

Aegon shrugs, kicking his feet beneath the rippling crystalline line of the water. “I think that takes a lot of trust, you know?”

You aren’t sure what he means. “To do IVF?”

“To leave a kid with someone,” he clarifies. “If I’m going to be out of the picture in a few years, I’d have to feel really confident that the mother would be the kind of person I’d trust to raise the child the right way. Not use them as a prop or something. Not raise them to be fucked up like I am.” Or like Becca is, he leaves unsaid.

And although it is ludicrous and forbidden and impossible, instantly you are doing math in your head: I’ll be done filming by winter, we could start trying in the spring. You always envisioned doing it the other way around, chasing dreams in your twenties, settling down in your thirties, but if Aegon doesn’t have much time left...

You turn to him, searching. But Aegon is in his own world, oblivious to your uninvited machinations. Of course he wouldn’t expect any discussions of the two of you staying together. You’ve already offered. He’s already declined. Now the song on the stereo is Keith Urban’s You’ll Think Of Me, and Aegon’s oceanic blue eyes begin to glisten. Everyone is crying today, you think.

“This was your dad’s favorite song,” you say gently.

Aegon nods. “Did I tell you that?”

“You did.”

He chuckles bleakly. “Fuck, I don’t even remember.” He wipes his eyes with the heel of one hand, and you wish you could touch him; but everyone at this party knows he’s getting married in a week, and to a woman who definitely isn’t you. “When I was really young, my dad was always telling us: You are Targaryens. You have to be extraordinary. You have to be extraordinary. And to me, that meant inhuman, or unnatural, or something else that I would always be incapable of. What about the real people? What about all the people like me, we were just supposed to vanish into cubicles somewhere, or hate ourselves enough to change our bodies, our faces, our souls? No, I couldn’t stomach that. Then my dad got sick, and for the first time he tried to understand us, and we had a few good years. Then he was gone again. But it was so goddamn slow.”

You are desperate to touch him, to console him. “Just because Viserys became a monster doesn’t mean you will. Just because he was a curse to your family doesn’t mean that’s how I’d feel about you.”

Aegon swipes at his eyes again, then brightens. He pretends he hasn’t heard you. “You’re coming to the wedding, right? I told Brando to send you money for the plane ticket.”

You spent it on eyeshadow palettes and books about the Gilded Age. “I don’t think so.”

“I really want you to be there.”

“You want me to watch you standing at the end of the aisle, and then Becca frolicking to meet you in her perfect Instagram-worthy dress, and then you exchanging adorable vows and kissing while people whistle and applaud, and then I’ll endure a whole night of celebrating your wedded bliss on the beach, all so you can get a glimpse of me in the crowd and maybe talk to me for five minutes before I fly back here alone, devastated that I’ll never get to see you again?”

“Yeah,” Aegon says.

“That’s an insane idea.”

Aegon throws his arms wide, exasperated. “It might be! I have a brain disease!”

“And why would I do that?” you demand. “Because I’m so happy for you and Becca?”

“No, because I’m doing you a favor,” he hisses, sudden hushed vitriol. “Because I am sparing you from everything that will happen next.”

I want to be there. I want it to be me. You shake your head, your throat burning. “I can’t watch you marry her.”

“Okay,” Aegon relents. “It’s fine. Sunshine, it’s fine. I don’t want to fight with you.” What he means is: I don’t want to waste the time we have left.

And for a moment he rests his head on your shoulder—your pulse thudding hot and red and feverish, pool water dripping from your hair—not caring who sees.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t want to be here,” he says.

“I know, Aegon.” The exam room at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Beverly Hills is sunlit but cold, curtains drawn back from the glass walls, frigid air conditioning gusting through the vents. Your eyeshadow is a dark blue to match your sundress: Equilibrium by Natasha Denona, Madness by Urban Decay. You take Aegon’s hand and hold it tightly. He is perched restlessly on the edge of the exam table; you are standing beside him, too anxious to sit in the requisite chair for a spouse or a parent, and of course you are neither of these things.

The doctor returns, knocking politely before opening the door. He closes it behind him as he enters the room. He’s in his early-fifties, pudgy, receding reddish hair and pale skin that has been turned pink by too much time spent in the sun. He is a family man—he’s already mentioned his wife and kids several times, you imagine the desk in his office must be adorned with their ever-smiling photographs—and an unassuming, slightly nervous disposition. He’s one of the best neurologists on the West Coast. When he heard Aegon’s last name, he fit him in immediately.

Dr. Gallagher turns the computer screen towards you and brings up images from the MRI scan. He takes his pen out of the pocket of his white coat and uses it to point at the bluish specter of Aegon’s brain. His voice is soothing, sympathetic, practiced in delivering bad news. “Unfortunately, what we’re seeing here is consistent with what I would expect to find in a patient with Huntington’s disease that has progressed to the moderate stage.” His pen leaps between pertinent locations. “There is already some striatal atrophy visible, and slight frontal horn dilatation as the brain matter around it shrinks. A lot of the time, we can’t even see that on scans in people who’ve been recently diagnosed. But you...” He looks at Aegon, gives him a soft subtle nod, casual catastrophic confirmation. “You’ve had symptoms for a while, as we discussed.”

“Yeah,” Aegon says quietly. You’re still clasping his hand, like he’ll vanish if you let go.

“I’m very sorry,” Dr. Gallagher tells him.

“Not your fault, doc.”

“But there is some good news,” Dr. Gallagher says. “Now that you’re in treatment, we can get you set up with a regimen that will alleviate your symptoms as much as possible. There are prescriptions—and I’ll go over each of those with you, so you understand what they are and the possible side effects—and also excellent therapists who have experience working with patients like you, Aegon. We want to keep your quality of life intact for as long as we possibly can.”

“I’m moving to Houston,” Aegon replies, and for some reason every time he says this you feel the loss of it all over again, as if you don’t already know, as if he’s not almost gone.

“Texas, huh?” Dr. Gallagher says, like he doesn’t understand why anyone would want to spend their final years there but is determined not to be judgmental about it. “Well, best wishes to you! I have some very capable colleagues at Houston Methodist, I’ll reach out to them and transfer your records over so you won’t have to worry about any of that once you get settled in.”

“Thank you,” Aegon says, quiet, distant. Dr. Gallagher glances at you curiously; he keeps doing that. Aegon didn’t introduce you. You didn’t introduce yourself. What are you supposed to say? You aren’t his wife. You aren’t even his fiancée or his girlfriend. You’re a mistress, and soon you’ll be nobody. Better to let the gaps remain unfilled. “How long?” Aegon asks after a while. “I mean, I know it can be unpredictable, but...”

Dr. Gallagher sighs and contemplates the MRI results again. “It really is impossible to say for sure. You said your father passed away at fifty-five?”

Aegon nods. “Ten years after he was diagnosed. And he must have gotten it from his dad. My grandmother lived to be really old and was healthy up until the last few months, but my grandfather died in a car accident, and that would have been before any symptoms were obvious.”

Dr. Gallagher considers this. “So we have multiple generations of the gene being passed down patrilineally, which does exacerbate anticipation. And with these MRI results and the symptoms you’re already experiencing...memory loss, involuntary movements, difficulty working and driving, problems with sleep, loss of appetite...” He shrugs, an acknowledgement of fate’s unknowable design. Then he looks at Aegon with eyes that are deeply apologetic. “I do suspect it will be relatively quick. You’ll probably have another year or two that are decent. And then...”

“And then,” Aegon echoes bitterly, not a question but an agreement. No one knows this better than he does.

“I think you’ll see forty.” Dr. Gallagher steals another glimpse of the MRI results. “But not much beyond that.”

“Okay,” Aegon says, trying to be stoic. And then, gingerly but very deliberately, he untangles his hand from yours.

At an In-N-Out Burger down the street, Aegon pays in cash, a habit he got into not just so Becca can’t track where he is; it’s so that if she asks where he’s been and he can’t remember, she won’t think he’s purposefully lying when he tells her the wrong places. You sit together in a quiet corner booth slurping your Cherry Cokes and picking at your burgers and Animal-Style fries, the silence both heavy and weak, anemic, listless, immovable. Aegon is typing around on his phone. You are trying to imagine what the world will feel like without him in it.

“Forty is good,” Aegon says abruptly. “You know, Becca will still be in her thirties. She’ll definitely be able to marry some other guy and have kids.”

“Aegon,” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“I wouldn’t want to waste away for a long time anyway. I hope I don’t make it past forty.”

“Aegon,” you plead. “The doctor said you could have a few good years left, so shouldn’t you spend those here with your family?” And with me?

Aegon stands up and slides his iPhone into the pocket of his shorts. “My Uber is outside.”

“Your what?” You are alarmed. “I can drive you back to your office, it’s not that out of the way for me—”

“No, I should go.” He gathers up his barely-touched food and stuffs it in a trashcan.

“Aegon...”

“I’ve been really selfish,” he says hurriedly, like if he doesn’t get it out now he might not ever. “I’ve been holding on to you because you make me feel better, and because I didn’t want it to be over, but I...now I have to do the right thing. And this is definitely the right thing.”

“You don’t have to go yet—”

“You’ll be taken care of,” Aegon says. “The people working on your movie...they’re legit. They’re trustworthy. And you can always call Brando or Aemond, they know they’re supposed to take care of you, they’ll get you anything you need, money, a place to live, help navigating the industry, whatever. And Kristen will be your new agent.”

“I don’t want another agent.”

“I set you up as well as I possibly could have,” Aegon tells you, curt, clinical. “And now it’s September, and I’m leaving Los Angeles. That was the deal. I never promised you more than that. I explicitly warned you there would never be more than that.”

“But...” But I didn’t love you then.

“Don’t make this any harder. Say goodbye and move on.”

“Goodbye, Aegon,” you reply, unconvincingly, not meaning it. But it must be enough; he walks out of the In-N-Out Burger, and through the clear glass of the windows you watch him climb into a stranger’s car, and you think numbly, because it seems so impossible: I’ll never see him again?

You stay in the booth for a long time, sipping your Cherry Coke as tears well up in your eyes and spill over, ceaseless rivulets you dab away with napkins that your eyeshadow turns from pure white to a smudged watery blue. Then when you leave and start your shimmering gold Honda Accord, you call Aemond. He listens intently, asks a number of highly technical medical questions you can’t answer, and gets impatient. You apologize, your voice breaking. Aemond sighs, says he’s sorry, tells you with a strangled tension in his own words that he has to go and will call back in a few days to check on you. You’re his new pet, after all; Aegon has assigned you to a different Targaryen, a new agent, a life still orbiting his gravity even in his absence.

At home, your apartment is empty. Jace is at one of his PhD classes. You don’t turn the tv on, you don’t listen to any music. You lie down on the living room couch as afternoon light slants in through the windows and the muffled sounds of Harbor Gateway bleed in through the walls: car horns, shrieking sirens, pedestrians’ shouts, revving engines, stereos and their rumbling bass beats. You can’t stand this, the knowledge that life continues on uninterrupted for everyone else. Becca will get to keep Aegon for years. His family can fly east to Houston to visit him. He is only dead to you.

You pick up your phone and call him. Aegon answers after a few rings; he is startled, like he hadn’t expected to ever hear from you again, like something bad must have happened: your car broke down and you’re stranded on the side of the freeway, you got heat sickness and are trapped in a store somewhere. He says: “Hey, are you alright?”

“I miss you so much and you’re not even gone yet.”

There’s a pause that feels much longer than it is. “Are you at home?”

“Yeah,” you reply, a quivering whisper.

“Okay,” Aegon says, gentle, warm, like you’re friends again and always will be. Due north in his office in Elysian Park where there is no more work left to be done, you can hear his chair scrape against the scuffed hardwood floor as he pushes it out from his desk. “I’ll be there in about a half hour.”

“Okay. Bye.” You hang up, mop the tears from your face, and begin getting ready.

When Aegon knocks, you answer the door in your pajamas, no illusions of propriety: just a L.A. Dodgers t-shirt, black sweatpants, and nothing underneath. Aegon does not pretend to be any more noble. He is through the doorway—swiftly, soundlessly, like a shadow—and then he’s here in the sunlit living room lifting away your shirt and kissing you, deep and wordless, as you stumble together towards your bedroom, you staggering out of your sweatpants as he yanks them down to the floor, you fumbling with the buttons of his green short-sleeve Oxford shirt, and you wonder: Did Becca fasten these buttons this morning? Is that why he didn’t miss one?

“Oh, thank God,” Aegon sighs when he knows he’ll be able to do it, that his body is not yet a stranger to him entirely, and as you sink into the mattress his weight settles on top of you, opening you, filling you, not disappeared yet, not long-lost like a childhood dream that turns to cynicism, only warm and sweet and real. And just like the times before, when you believe you won’t be able to finish with him, you’re wrong. Your eyes brim with tears, like Aegon knows happens when it’s good, and as he whisks them away he murmurs: “Find somebody who does this for you.”

“There’s no one else.”

“Find somebody you love.”

“I love you, Aegon.”

“You can’t, you can’t,” he moans, like he knows it’s hopeless, like he’s already lost the same war.

Not just once, but twice, and then you are exhausted—your muscles unraveled from your bones, your resistance crumbling like eons-old earth—and the world is quiet and fading, used condoms in the trashcan beside your nightstand, the sheets damp with sweat, and you’ll never have him like this again. You’ll never have anything like this again. Daylight, weakening from yellow to gold to amber to blood, pours in through the window and cascades across your bed.

“Remember me like this, okay?” Aegon whispers, kissing you one last time: lips, forehead, the apple of your cheek. “Now look away.”

You turn to the window where sunlight beckons, leaving him in darkness. You hear the bedroom door click shut as he leaves.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Saturday, September 6th, the wedding day. You have nothing planned. This is a mistake, although it isn’t exactly your fault; filming starts on Monday so everyone has this weekend off as one last respite, Chloe’s parents are in town for a visit, Baela is wrapping up the new Yorgos Lanthimos movie in Paris. You wake up ridiculously early, groggy and miserable. You wander aimlessly around the apartment. You glower at the red-ink note in the box on the calendar: Aegon’s wedding. You stare at the vase of dried sunflowers and feel like crying.

You open Instagram and scroll blindly; the blue-white glow hurts your bloodshot eyes. Becca has posted numerous stories in the past twenty-four hours, which is typical: Pinterest-worthy plates of food, teasing glimpses of her dress and shoes, selfies with her friends and family. There is a wheezing Pekingese in the background of one of her videos from the luxurious hotel suite, and you think, rather disparagingly: She flew her dogs to the Caribbean?

What’s not-so-typical is that Aegon has posted an Instagram story too, something he doesn’t do often. After several minutes of deliberation, and against your better judgment, you click on superstargaryen’s story. It’s 4 a.m. here, so 7 a.m. on Turks and Caicos. The sun has already risen there. And Aegon’s story is a simple photo of the sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean, as if taken from a balcony. There is no caption and no frivolous emojis: a ring, a bouquet, toasting champagne glasses, a cartoonish yellow couple. Instead, there is only a song added, a fifteen-second snippet that plays on a loop each time you re-watch the story, which you do about ten times. The song is Hard To Concentrate by the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

And instantly, you are there again, the night after you shot the music video in Beverly Hills, the night after Aegon saved you: flying in his convertible southbound on the 110, streetlights and headlights and neon that cut through the indigo ink of the world, Aegon’s hair flying, his right hand on the steering wheel, bruises on his knuckles, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he keeps looking over at you, as if he’s feeling the same things you are: This is right, this is real, I want this forever.

I have to be there, you realize abruptly, like a lightning strike or the jolt of an earthquake. I have to try to change his mind.

You close Instagram, open Google, search for flights from LAX to Turks and Caicos. You find one with two seats left, both in First Class. My parents are going to kill me, you think, and then put them on your credit card. You get Jace’s full name and date of birth from the driver’s license in his wallet, which he left on the kitchen counter.

You go to Baela’s bedroom and shake Jace awake. He glares at you blearily from beneath chaotic dark curls. “What do you want?” he groans.

“Do you have a passport?”

“Yeah...?”

“I have to fly to Turks and Caicos.”

“What? Where...?”

“It’s for a wedding. I don’t want to go alone. Will you go with me?”

You wait for him to say no. Instead, Jace mulls it over and then drags himself upright, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Turks and Caicos...that’s in the Caribbean, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a long flight. When are you leaving?”

“In twenty minutes. I already called the Uber.”

Jace blinks a few times, then stands up. “Island vibes,” he mutters in a Jamaican accent as he shuffles off towards the bathroom.

You throw some essentials in a carry-on bag: toiletries, makeup, clothes, TOMS wedges. The only wedding-appropriate dress you have that’s clean is the electric yellow gown you wore to the Maroon 5 music video red carpet premiere. You yank it off the hanger and stuff it in your suitcase. Jace rolls his luggage into the living room just as the Uber is pulling up outside. You urge the driver to hurry as you glide northwest on the 405 towards Westchester, home to Los Angeles International Airport. It’s early enough that traffic is thin, and the lines are short at the TSA security checkpoint. Jace is momentarily stopped for further inspection; he accidentally left a vape pen in his pocket.

Will we make it there before the wedding starts?

At the gate, passengers are already lining up to board the plane. You check the time on your phone and do some quick math. It’s currently 5:30 a.m. here in California. If your flight leaves on time, you’ll be in the air at 6:00. Turks and Caicos is three hours ahead in Eastern Standard Time, so that would be 9:00 a.m. The flight is almost nine hours long, including a brief layover in Atlanta, which means—if everything goes perfectly—you’ll touch down at Providenciales International Airport shortly before 6:00 p.m. The wedding ceremony begins at 6:30, sunset on the beach, very romantic.

“It’s going to be close,” you tell Jace as he slurps on a venti-sized Lavender Crème Frappuccino from an airport Starbucks.

It’s going to be very close.

#aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen x female reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon targaryen x you

120 notes · View notes

lahyaspeaks · 1 month ago

Text

Someone please take this unedited idea i made base on the new netflix movie k-pop demon hunters

I was writing about gen been torture on my reincarnation au and abandon it for this au lol

Well if someone from the discord server is reading this i did change some stuff and beta ish. I said i was gonna finish in the after now but now is 1 am again like same time i was writing this when i finished the movie lmao

Ok so this sengen and ryuko on the side (?

Half demon Senku and demon Gen.

Senku is all his life have been hiding he’s a half demon, the way people would discover about it, it’s the patterns on his skin but no one can see it cause his always using a lab coat or all the cloths for the boyband cover his body.

The only people that are on the known is the family that adopted him.

Byakuya and his family, they come from a prominent demon hunter family but he cut ties with his family when someone tried to kill toddler senku, because of the canon conversation about the moon byakuya worked for nasa for a while and later he retires as an astronaut.

He loves Senku with all his heart, that child right there is his son in all but blood, he would sacrifice the world for Senku but well (? on the other side Senku knows he’s love but sometimes he’s doubts about it; that’s one of his biggest insecurities (Trauma reaction).

Later when Byakuya gets married to Lilian, she’ll be on the known with her comes kohaku/ruri as stepsister, later suika as his baby sister. The way the introduce Lilian about senku been a half demon was a little hectic because they needed to explain the supernatural part. Koharu and Ruri find by accident a week before they were going to tell them.

Senku always wanted to reveal his secret to Taiju and Yuzuriha but he stops himself all the time, their reaction is something he doesn’t want to think about it and at the same time been a demon hunter.

Because of the incident when he was a child he doesn’t use martial arts or other techniques but he does it with science inventing stuff that kills the demons. Also apart from the incident even though he’s a half demon from his father side his human is weak, his mother had a weak body even byakuya was surprise she survive the pregnancy (well she still dies). He has a weak body but his stamina is good( demon perks) not always tho. When he lets his demon side out it’s different but again because of his insecurities about himself and he knows its stupid (but i want him to have a heavy trauma of the childhood memory that he was almost killed and thats were all his insecurity comes off ).

He becomes a really popular scientist around the time he is 16-17 with Chrome going on tv to explain stuff, because of his expressions and popularity Ryusui contacted him to form a boyband with chrome and him. Eventually they discover senku is a demon hunter cause there’s an accident where Ryusui and Chrome almost get killed.

They go to Byakuya so they can talk about been demon hunters, queue big bad comes to steal all the souls of the people so they use their songs plus demon hunters abilities to save the world.

When suddenly a new boyband appears (Gen/Tsukasa/Hyouga/Ukyou/Moos) and they are the demons using the entertainment industry not only as a boyband but other stuff like Gen as a mentalist.

Tsukasa, Mozu, and Hyouga as martial artist but for tv and Ukyo is just boyband. (?

wWell they capture souls and send them to feed big bad.

Well they met on the street when the demon group made his debut. Senku and co go to hunt them but failed, they follow the demon group but they are attack with a lot of demons because boyband B is trying to escape.

Senku follows Gen and he gets overwhelmed for something (? and part of his costume gets rip and Gen discovers Senku is a demon hunter and also he is a demon, the wall breaks senku panics covering the part that broke from his costume and Gen covers it and leaves.

Later Gen sends a spirit to ask senku to talk, Senku goes, they talk about Senku been a demon, Gen uses manipulation to know more it kinda works and at the same time it doesn’t.

When Senku leaves Gen is teleport to the big bad and he talks about his discovers and how Senku doesn’t hear the voices Gen and all other demons hear.

They have more encounters, talk about feelings in a twisted way.

Senku is having problems about hiding been a hunter and a demon at the same time, there’s tension. Like in the movie they need to won this big award cause when their song hits the right frequency the portal to the demon world closes, so with all this tension and secrets they tried to compose a great song but Senku keeps changing the lyrics.

Later Senku and Gen talk about Gen betraying big bad so he can be free. Gen gets transporter again to big bad and Gen tells them this was all part of his plan.

On the final concert for the awards everything goes well until demons attack Senku on stage looking like Ryusui and Chrome leaving all his mark expose, at the same time Ryusui and Chrome were running trying to follow some demons. When senku catch up with the real ryusui and chrome they feel betrayed about everything.

Big bad is winning and the demon boyband is making a big ass concert, to extract all the souls of the people. Chrome and Ryusui fall into a trance like the rest of the people that are going into the concert building.

(I haven’t decided if i kill byakuya or not the year before all of this) Cause senku ends up going to Byakuya family house, to see his technically grandmother and the person that almost kill him as a child. He has a whole break down and scream that he was just a child and didn’t know anything about his demon heritage yet. That was the incident were senku discovered the truth about it. His whole life he thought about that event on some way it end up as a trauma, that made him hate his demon side.

In front of his grandmother he has all his demon marks covering all his body and it’s bright. He ends up leaving while saying “I’ll use my demon side to end all of this”. He goes to the concert his sings “What it sounds like.” (that fucking song make me cry and is one of the reason I decided to use senku as the half demon lol) Chrome and Ryusui are free from the trance, join him.

While they are singing the song, final boss appears, he is attacks sending demons but the trio quickly kills them. Then he attacks Senku and Senku use a shield but it doesn’t have enough power to protect himself.

From the side lines Gen is looking remembering everything they talk, how he feels about Senku. His last action is him protecting Senku, then sacrifice himself to save Senku while giving him two things. In conclusion they soulmates so hard that he gives his soul to senku.

Senku kills the final boss now using all his demon power, no end of the world but he suffers cause Gen is death.

Time skip Senku is researching science and is wearing a collar he got from a lady the first time he met Gen and Gen had it with him before his death, also his a little jealous about ryusui and ukyo having a happy ending (? (I feel lazy to write about their story so people can think of anything.) Ok so this sengen and ryuko on the side (?

Half demon Senku and demon Gen.

The only people that are on the known is the family that adopted him.

They go to Byakuya so they can talk about been demon hunters, queue big bad comes to steal all the souls of the people so they use their songs plus demon hunters abilities to save the world.

When suddenly a new boyband appears (Gen/Tsukasa/Hyouga/Ukyou/Moos) and they are the demons using the entertainment industry not only as a boyband but other stuff like Gen as a mentalist.

Tsukasa, Mozu, and Hyouga as martial artist but for tv and Ukyo is just boyband. (?

wWell they capture souls and send them to feed big bad.

Later Gen sends a spirit to ask senku to talk, Senku goes, they talk about Senku been a demon, Gen uses manipulation to know more it kinda works and at the same time it doesn’t.

When Senku leaves Gen is teleport to the big bad and he talks about his discovers and how Senku doesn’t hear the voices Gen and all other demons hear.

They have more encounters, talk about feelings in a twisted way.

Later Senku and Gen talk about Gen betraying big bad so he can be free. Gen gets transporter again to big bad and Gen tells them this was all part of his plan.

Senku kills the final boss now using all his demon power, no end of the world but he suffers cause Gen is death.

Time skip Senku is researching science and is wearing a collar he got from a lady the first time he met Gen and Gen had it with him before his death, also he is a little jealous about ryusui and ukyo having a happy ending (? (I feel lazy to write about their story so people can think of anything.)

#dr stone #au #gen asagiri #ishigami senku #sengen #ukyo saionji #nanami ryusui #kpop demon hunters AU #dr stone gen #dr stone senku #sengen are soulmates your honor #if there was no petrification they would have still meet #ryukyo on the side #senku x gen #senku ishigami x asagiri gen

19 notes · View notes

anyamaris · 2 years ago

Text

Once Upon a Crimson Moon

Word Count- 15825

Pairing- Fae!Yeosang x Fem!Reader

Summary- Leaving behind a tragic past, you've crossed into the realm of the fae in hopes of finding a better life. Yet, you find yourself thrust into an existence equally horrifying. Discarded by one court, traded like cattle to another, you make your escape but where will fate bring you?

A dark, mysterious creature that leads you to your inevitable demise might just be the one to save your soul.

Trope-Fantasy AU, Smut, Strangers to Lovers au

Warnings-Adult language, sexual language, heavy trigger warnings for alluded: abuse, torture, SA, death. Please be aware of these, they are alluded to, not explicitly spoken of. Both characters have a dark, tragic past. Some topics are depressing. Unprotected sex, sexually explicit scene outdoors, minors DNI 18+

Tags- @cultofdionysusnet @ksmutsociety @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @starlitmark@millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @wooahaeproductions@changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @millennial-fangirl @starillusion13 @duchesskaren @minki-moo

@cafekitsune and @saradika Thank you for dividers! 🤍💜🤍

A/N- First- @1-800-shedevil, you've been here through the entirety of this process with me, encouraging me, cheering me on, soothing me when I doubted myself. There aren't words to describe how much I adore and appreciate you. I feel like you know these characters almost as well as I do at this point. Thank you. 🤍💜🤍@kwanisms for making my header as well as my Yeosang character picture for me! GAH YOURE SO AMAZING AND TALENTED! I love you. @sanjoongie and @stardragongalaxy for creating this collab from a simple picture and conversation, I've fallen deeply in love with writing and this story because of you two. Thank you so much for setting this all in motion and dealing with me through all my screaming and excitement. @mint-yooxgi for all the hype and my screaming and yelling as well, and for always encouraging me when I doubt myself.

This is a collab with CODN for Thrill of the Hunt and please go check out the other writer's submissions!

I have a lot more planned for this if people like it, a whole story lives in my mind so I hope you'll enjoy this as much as I loved writing it!

I've included my original mood board at the beginning for some visuals as well as a commissioned art piece She.drawssss was so amazing to do for me beneath the cut!

You awake in the cold damp cell yet again, your eyes dry from dehydration. Groaning as you pick your aching body off of the filthy cloth they called a bed, you do your best to stretch and look around.

No one has come for you yet, it appears, as you glance at the empty bowl they feed you in. Sighing, you pull the ragged material of your gown down over your legs, looking up at the small window that barely allows any light in. Luckily, the acrid smell of rust overpowers any sense of your own odors, you think, frowning at the metal bucket they’d given you for your personal toilet.

“Still not the Ritz Carlton.” You whisper with a twist of your lips.

Your life has come down to this; a damp, dirty cell in the midst of a world you know nothing about. The series of events leading you to this very moment are hazy, vague memories you struggle to remember.

Nothing of your old existence is present here.

Running away from everything seemed like such a great idea at the time. Following the silly legends about faery rings, dreams of starting over completely.

Well…you had.

You’d run.

But now you wonder if the abuse and hardships from before were preferable to this disgusting tiny cell.

Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

Somewhere between here and there you’d just given up hope.

As you feel a tear slip from your eye, cursing the loss of moisture, your ears pick up the melodic sound of a bird. Looking up, you spot the small blue bird perched on the small window above you. It hops a bit, then lets out a little chirp, tilting its head at you.

“You again?” You ask it, unable to stop the tiniest speck of happiness it always brings with it.

Another tiny chirp reaches your ears and you sigh.

“Smile? Why? What’s the point?” you ask it, shaking your head.

It hops then chirps once more, and you just let out a small laugh.

“Fine…for you…I’ll try.” Seeming to be placated at your words, the small bird flutters its wings, flying away with a song.

The clank of the doors unlocking behind you has you turning, expecting the daily meal of mush in a bowl, but instead a tall figure grunts a few words in a language you don’t understand.

Before you can stand, two others are entering the cell, throwing a bag over your head and dragging you from the room you’ve called home for over a year.

“Shh, don’t speak a word, it’s the damned one…”

“Don’t look him in the eye, lest he remembers your face….”

“Why do they suffer such an abomination?-”

“HUSH! One cry from his cursed throat will doom us all!”

“I hear he killed his-”

“QUIET! Don’t be foolish or-”

The whispers are nothing he hasn’t heard before, in fact he’d be shocked if he doesn’t hear the murmurs as he walks through the busy market area.

Bodies part before him as he strides forward, gathering in his wake to curse his very existence. His red eyes scan the beings in front of him, daring any brave enough to meet their steely glare.

Not one takes the opportunity, ducking their heads, pretending to be busy.

The smirk that tugs at his lips beneath the black mask holds no mirth.

Their disgust and revulsion only mirrors his own as he makes his way to the fae he reports to.

“Quit frowning at her, she’s not worth your pity.” One of the elves hisses out, spitting to the side as he chuckles.

“Barren, that one. Not even worth the effort of transporting her. Should just leave her out here to the wilds.”

You just blink at the sky as the cart trudges along, studying the darkening clouds, letting your mind wander. You only half listen to the two fae who are charged with taking you to trade. You’d heard them say it a few times as you traveled; Oidhche court.

After having spent the last year being subjected to numerous atrocities by a variety of creatures in what you’d heard called Ciaradh court, you can only let out a breath at finally being outside once more.

It has been a long while since you’ve seen the open sky and you smile a bit as you take in the sight.

“Pretty”, you whisper and the smaller elf cocks his head back to look at you.

“Eh?” he says, a look of disgust passing over his face as your eyes meet his. “Tch,” he wrinkles his nose at you, then turns away.

“Too bad, clean her up and-”

“Let those mongrels in Oidhche have their way with her, I want to wash my hands of her as quickly as possible. Not worth the coin paid, when they will just dispose of her…”

Your mind tunes them out, focussing instead on gazing back towards the vast sky above you.

Would it rain today?

You hope so, the idea of the sound of droplets hitting the leaves on the giant trees around you has you closing your eyes again, drifting off into your own imagination to escape the stark reality of your life.

What seems like days pass, trudging along in the shoddy cart you are forced to ride in. You’d originally started out walking with them, just your hands bound by a rope but you’d stumbled and fallen so many times, the elves had traded for the small transport.

They hadn’t bothered much beyond the bindings on your wrists and as you daydream while the sun sets, you unconsciously work at the small rope.

It’s deep into the night when you can hear both of the guards snoring loudly that the bindings fall from your aching limbs and you rub them absentmindedly.

Wondering if you should even bother trying to escape, you shrug and think, what does it matter? Might as well try at least. The absolute worst that could happen is that they hear you, or they hunt you down.

From the way they were talking, it wasn’t likely you were going to meet with anything pleasant once they handed you off, so you creep slowly from the small vehicle and summon the tiny bit of grace you may have buried deep down.

The noises coming from the two males remain steady as you skulk through the taller brush.

You don’t stop concentrating on your movements until the sun is creeping up over the horizon and you’re sure that you’ve made it far enough to be clear.

Not waiting any longer, you take off at a run on your cloth bandaged feet, not even worrying about injuring yourself as you let your adrenaline drive you away from your captors.

With no idea of where you’re going, you just know that anything is better than whatever awaits you.

You have no idea how long you’ve been wandering, only that you can hear the faint trickle of running water nearby. Having only had the small drops of dew in the morning time, your heart soars at the sound.

It feels like days since you’ve gotten free from your transporters and now you are thirsty and hungry. Following the noise, you make your way to an embankment, sighing in relief as you take in the clear, crisp water below.

With a small smile, you slowly clamber down the side, being especially careful. The last thing you needed was to injure yourself while you were out here alone, without food or shelter.

“At least I’d have you,” you whisper to the small stream as you crouch beside it.

Humming happily, you cup your hands to collect the water and drink greedily. It’s cool and refreshing, bringing a much needed ray of hope into your current situation, as well as your parched lips.

You spend a little time hydrating, then scanning the area to see if there is any way to carry water with you. Finding none, you decide the best way is to follow the water source.

Glancing behind, you try to acclimate where you’ve come from and determine the direction to head in.

“As if you have a plan…” you murmur to yourself, seriously wondering what your ultimate goal is.

From your experience so far, coming across any fae was likely detrimental to your survival. The time you’d spent in that dank cell, subject to unspeakable things, told you all you needed to know about how the fae treated the human race. You had heard some other humans come through speaking of different courts having contradicting ideas of how your race was treated, but you’d only ever come across the kind that despised you.

Your thoughts drift to the one who scared you the most.

The one who came in the deep night.

The one who slipped you herbs and forced you to drink vile concoctions.

The disgusting creature who promised to make you his, repeatedly describing the numerous tortures that awaited you.

You’d eventually stopped reacting to his goading, as it seemed to give him pleasure to watch you tremble in fear.

“It’s ok now, you’re alright. Look, the sunset is beautiful.” you hum, making your way to a small burrow you spot as you walk along the stream. “It’ll all be fine. Even if you die out here, it has a wonderful view…” you murmur, drifting off as the orange glow fades to red, then dusk settles in as your eyes close.

“Go retrieve the human those idiots lost, shade. She escaped during transport around a week ago. Idiots took their time finally coming to report her disappearance but I know you’ll be able to find her. Meet them near the gate for her scent. Under no condition is she to be killed, bring her back as she is.” the captain commands, dismissing the creature known only as nightshade.

The fae’s crimson eyes only register the command, then he is turning on his heel to carry out his superior’s orders without question. He ignores angry muttering behind him as he makes his way outside.

Nightshade, or just shade, was what the fae had dubbed him.

It was no secret that he was born and raised without a name.

Such was the fate of one such as him, cursed at birth as a half breed abomination; a moniker befitting one that is as deadly as he is.

The fact that they used the human term for the poisonous plant was not lost on him, but it mattered little.

Irritation at being sent on such a seemingly silly task to retrieve a run away human, he just frowns beneath the black mask as he spots his targets pacing outside the gate.

“How long are we-SHITE AND FAIRYDUST! Why you-” the taller fae stops immediately as he takes in shade’s form as it solidifies, an undercurrent of fear in the elves’ normally apathetic gaze. “Are you here for the human wretch?”

Shade merely nods once and the two fae step back, gesturing to the wagon that had been transporting you.

“Should just let her die out there, with the beasts. No way she’s getting’ far.” the shorter one says.

The taller snorts and nods, “Don’t even know why she bothered.” They both fall silent as shade turns his eyes on them and they look away quietly.

“I’ll bring her back.” The deep rumble of his voice is barely loud enough to be heard but the two fae shiver at the sound, shrinking back.

Nodding once, he turns and fades to wisps of smoke, hovering over the cart long enough to get a scent of the essence left behind before dissipating.

“Don’t envy her the end she has coming from THAT one’,” the short elf whispers after a moment, finally able to talk once more.

“Shite.” is the only response he gets as they head back towards Ciaradh court.

You awaken with a shiver and a cry, the heavy morning dew clinging to your exposed flesh.

The dirty white gown they’d given you before you’d been unceremoniously dragged from the cell you called home was caked at the hem with mud and who knows what from the first stretch of your flight.

You’d been running through puddles and burying yourself in leaves and whatever else you could find to hide in at every sudden noise that first day. Yet you didn’t want to wash your clothing in the only water source you’d found, so you decide to leave it for now.

Stretching and shaking off the horrible dreams, you make your way back over to the stream to drink deeply, then make your way downstream once more.

The sound of the water seems to be getting louder as the stream slowly turns into a river, the current picking up.

Eventually you stop, trying to decide which side of the water you want to be on, as crossing looks as if it might be impossible later on.

Finally deciding on the right bank to climb up, you scan the area around you. There seem to be more trees and the birdcalls are louder as you travel.

You’re not sure whether to be surprised or not, having come across no living being since you’d escaped the road you’d been traveling along with those two fae.

To be fair, once you’d crossed into the world of the fae through the faerie ring however long ago, you hadn’t had much time outside of confinement. So there was no way to tell what was ‘normal’ on this side.

Deciding that the stream nearby would give you a water source, and heading towards the more tree lined area might provide some vegetation to eat, you make your way onwards. You’re fairly sure you haven’t traveled very far since you have strips of cloth for foot protection and it has been rough on you.

Figuring that the current of the river is decent enough to wash at least your wounds on your lower body in, you make your way to the side of the flowing current.

Unwrapping the cloth around your filthy feet, you dip your toes hesitantly, then plunge your legs up to your knees, sighing blissfully.

Numerous scratches and cuts, as well as a few punctures from sharp rocks are all calmed by the cool water. You close your eyes and tip your head back, basking in the beautiful sunlight, the warmth shining down on you.

“Where are you even going?” you ask yourself softly, breathing in deeply.

Once you soothe your wounds, you rip some new cloth off of the rag you are wearing, rewrapping your feet with the much cleaner fabric. At least it would provide some protection against the random rocks and such.

The rest of the day's journey takes you into the copse of trees, keeping an eye out for any of the faery circles you’d gone through in your own world.

Chances were low that you’d come across one, but at least it gave you something to work towards.

As you come upon a small opening, you walk to the edge to look out over the land beyond.

Looking around, you decide this is as good a place as any to rest and possibly spend a little time while you figure out what to do next. There was a small waterfall you could see a little ways down, and a small area to possibly bathe.

There were also some berries that looked promising as a food source, and given that it was between trying your luck at those or starving….well…

You collect a handful for your meager dinner, then bunch some leaves together under a smaller tree, hoping if the berries do kill you, it won’t be painful. The thoughts are short lived as you give in to your exhaustion, passing out before the sun sets below the trees looking over you.

Awakening hours later, the dark surrounding you feels oppressive. The constant dreams haunting you seem to follow you from your sleep as you take in the silent evening.

Rubbing your stomach, you don’t notice any signs of pain, which is a good thing for the berries. But your thoughts are cut off as you realize just how silent it is.

Dead silent, no birds, no noises of creatures moving in the dark like you’ve come to expect.

Just…silent as a grave. A shiver of pure terror washes over you as you try to process if it’s still a dream or-

That’s when you notice the being, crouched down a few feet away, hooded with a black mask.

You can’t really even see much else, but you can feel him. The noise that threatens to escape your throat seems to be stuck as he stands and slowly walks to hover over you.

As he approaches, the light of the moon illuminates his eyes, dark and intense. A chill runs through you at the sight of his form standing over you, your body trembling in fear.

This is it, this is my end, you think, a tiny part of you relieved that it’s finally come.

You had a feeling something would come for you eventually.

As the figure studies you, you can only wait for the peace of death.

Despite your instinctive physical fear, your mind is oddly tranquil as you try to make out his features in the darkness.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you do your best to meet your last moments with a smile.

“Please…will you make it quick?” your quivering voice squeaks out, wincing at the sound in the deep quiet of the night.

The figure tilts his head at you, almost curious.

“Quick?” he crouches down in front of you, mere inches away as his masked face looks you over.

Swallowing, fear almost has you paralyzed at the nearness of the fae man, a sixth sense telling you he could crush you with one hand.

“Please…I would like to die quickly.” you repeat, drawing your knees underneath you as you sit up to ready yourself.

You grit your teeth to keep them from rattling together at the way you’re trembling, refusing to close your eyes to your final living companion.

“Die?” he asks, and you watch him as you wait, finally noticing that his dark eyes are a deep crimson in the light of the moon.

So pretty, you think distractedly. Heaving a small sigh, you focus on their beauty, a tiny smile creeping over your face as you appreciate the only part of him you can see.

“Are you not afraid, mortal?” he asks you, and you let his deep timbre wash over you, relishing in the richness of his tone.

“Of course….. I am very afraid. I’m terrified.” you counter and he just blinks at you, reaching a gloved hand out to hover near your face.

Snatching it back, he squints at you.

“Why are you so eager to die?” he questions and it’s your turn to blink at him.

“I…I’m not eager to die…” you whisper and he shakes his head.

“Confusing.” he states and you just stare at him.

“Aren’t you here to kill me?” you ask him, wondering how you’ve found yourself here, debating your life or death with a terrifying masked fae man.

“I am not.” he responds simply, causing you to sigh sadly.

“Which means…” you say softly, glancing around the clearing you’d decided to make a temporary residence, finding yourself already back in the cells you’d been locked away in for so long.

You turn your eyes back to him, his gaze still on you.

“You’re here to take me back.” you state, not a question.

His silence tells you what you need to know, and your throat closes as your eyes fill with tears.

“Give me a moment, please.” you say, trying to collect yourself.

His eyes go through an array of expressions as you fan your face, trying to calm down. The trembling from his nearness wasn’t helping, but you weren’t going to ask him to back off. Something in you told you that it was unlikely he’d listen anyhow.

“Are you going to take me back to those horrible men? Men…fae…I don’t even know what to call them…my captors?” you ask.

He merely nods, watching you curiously as you shiver and hug yourself.

“I suppose there’s nothing to be done for it then.” you say, and give him a nod.

“Are you going to…woosh me back or…?” You flap your hands, not knowing the words you’re looking for, fear of what awaits you overpowering his presence momentarily.

His confused eyes have you sighing, waving your hands around erratically.

“You know like, um…fly me back or …magic things…?” you ask, shrugging. “I have only been confined since I came into the fae world…I’m really not sure how things work here.”

His searching eyes just blink at you, then he sighs, sitting down to cross his legs in front of you.

“I will not ‘magic’ you back, we will travel by foot. I do not wish to touch you.” he says and you just sigh, looking up at the light of the moon above you.

“Ah…I forget that we humans here are despised, of course you wouldn’t want to. May I…have a bit of time before we go?” you ask him, and he just nods once.

“As you will, mortal. Rest, then. I do not need you to be a hindrance.” His form dissipates into a cloud of darkness, drawing out a shocked gasp from you.

“So cool...” you whisper, even as your body trembles in his presence.

Your attempts to sleep once more aren’t met with any luck, so you find yourself getting up, looking around the clearing. You cannot see your ‘escort’ but you can sense that he’s around, watching.

“I am just going to the little waterfall nearby…I’m aware that… running would be pointless…” you throw out, and you’re met with only silence.

Taking that as a sign that it’s fine, you make your way down to the little waterfall, your heart feeling a semblance of relief for a moment as you realize you may not get to be free ever again.

“I’ll just treasure this while I can…” you whisper to yourself, shedding the horrible gown and walking into the cool water.

The sigh of relief that escapes your lips is so loud, you cover your mouth, then giggle. It’s not as if you’re going to scare anything nearby, and the thought gives you a sense of freedom for a moment.

Humming as you dip down under the water, you emerge with a happy laugh, swimming around for a bit, then floating on your back as you watch the stars above.

Suddenly you are filled with a strong sense of being watched, heavier than before.

Turning your head, you let out a scream, bobbing under the surface for a moment before you pop back up, looking over to see the dark fae man near the water's edge. Your heart seems to restart as you process his presence, watching you curiously.

Turning to swim towards him a bit, you let your breathing even out before giving him a small smile.

“I wanted to bathe before we left…” you tell him, feeling the need to break the eerie silence.

He tilts his head, blinking slowly at you before his deep tone washes over you in a question.

“Why do you laugh?”

“Excuse me?” you ask, flustered, his intense stare causing you to tremble once more.

He pauses, his gaze even as he watches you.

“You are laughing, yet there is no one else around. Why?” he asks again and you sigh, floating a bit as you think of how to answer him.

“I was simply enjoying the feeling of the water….it’s been quite some time since I was allowed to bathe…or see the night sky like this…” you trail off, as you stare up at the stars.

Turning to look at him once more, you just contemplate.

“Do fae not laugh?” you ask him and just blinks, then shakes his head.

“Some fae laugh.” he responds and you get the feeling that he is not one of them.

Frowning, you swim a little closer to where he is crouched.

“Have you never laughed?” you ask him and he almost winces at the question.

“I dare not laugh, nor would I have a reason to.” he says, his beautiful silky voice washing over you and you just shake your head.

The thought of his laughter with that low velvety tone…..you shiver at the mere idea of it.

“Well that’s sad.” you tell him, going back to your humming.

“Sad?” he asks and you look at him curiously.

Between the hood and the mask covering the lower half of his face, the dark clothing and the gloves….well he looks completely like some assassin or dark creature from the fictional novels you used to read. But he was sitting here, watching you bathe, asking you about laughter.

Your heart cries out empathetically without even understanding why. Instead of feeling the need to cower and run in fear you are…drawn to him. His gaze, his voice, his presence is giving you the urge to know him, understand him.

How confusing things were here.

“What is your name?” you ask him, and the wince from before is nothing compared to the dark pain that swirls in his eyes now. Even in the low light of the moon, you can sense it, the agony in that reaction.

“I have no name.” he finally responds quietly and your heart clenches.

“No name? Do fae not name-?”

“They call me shade. I am just a shade.” he cuts you off, standing abruptly.

“Shade? How…on the nose.” you mumble and swim over to the edge, hoisting yourself out of the water.

His eyes are on you once more as you slip into your dress, uncaring of his gaze.

Your fae captors had long since stripped you of your modesty, and this particular fae was one of the first you’d met that wasn’t oozing hatred or lust for you. His uncaring demeanor was a wonderful relief compared to the others you’d met.

How odd to trust him on a feeling.

“I found myself unable to sleep so…we can go.” you announce, turning once more to take in the beauty of your bathing area, the sound of the small waterfall, the stars and moon reflected in the dark waters.

At his look, you just shrug, gesturing to yourself as you rewrap your feet. “I have nothing. This is everything, just me.” you tell him, thinking he may think you have to retrieve things.

It’s met with silence and you just stand, taking him in as you give him a small smile.

“I’m ready.”

The journey is slow, as he just meets your clumsy pace with silence, not once rushing you.

The first day passes quickly, you having slowed to avoid any injuries. And well….you were in no rush to return to the hell of your captors.

All attempts at speaking to the dark being escorting you are met with mostly mundane answers, his disinterest obvious, but you could sense an underlying sense of curiosity to him.

Or maybe it was just your imagination, hopeful in this bleak existence of yours.

He mostly observes you as he quietly directs you, allowing you to stop to use the bushes occasionally, to pick berries to eat, or to drink from the waters of the river.

He even watches as you get excited over a field of flowers you’d not seen on your way, exclaiming over the myriad of colors you’ve never seen in nature before.

Unlike the other fae, your occasional stumbles did not earn you a curse or jests, he merely just waits as you recover to continue on.

That night, as you lay staring at the open night sky, your body finally allows you some broken sleep.

Your shadowy escort can only observe from the trees as your body thrashes in the small hollow you’ve carved out for yourself as the nightmare plagues your rest.

Awakening with a small cry, you can only sigh at the reality of your situation, resignedly readying yourself for another day of travel.

As the day passes you fill the silence with random thoughts spoken aloud, rambling at him about whatever comes to mind, never expecting much of a response.

Occasionally he would start to respond to questions, but never more than a sentence here or there. Still, you could sense that your endless prattling wasn’t unwelcome to him, and you could sense his gaze on you if you started to go quiet.

As another night draws in the darkness around you, you find yourself yawning as you walk along, playing with some of the pretty flowers you’d found on the ground, unwilling to pluck any of the living ones.

“I believe you should rest now,” his voice startles you, causing you to jump and clutch your chest.

“I think that’s the most you’ve spoken today, you scared me.” you exclaim, and he just nods as if used to it.

“It is my nature, to cause others to fear me.” he simply says and you tilt your head at him.

“Why? Even other fae fear you?” you ask him, recovering as you look around for a clearing to rest in.

“I am aberrant to even my kind.” he says simply as if it’s a normal thing.

“Why?” you ask, stopping to turn and look up at him abruptly.

It was the first time he’d seemed willing to talk about himself and you weren’t letting the opportunity pass by.

His shocked eyes blink at you, mere inches from him as you hold your flowers.

“Why?” he echoes and you shrug, turning to head towards a little bunch of trees with some leaves and a nice little log to sit on.

“You ask many questions.”

“Yes, you…well…I mean, when I got here, I was running from some pretty horrible things…I thought coming here would be a clean start, that life here would be better for me. I don’t really know much about this…world…realm?” You gasp as you see some berries and run to pick them, feeling his presence follow.

“I had barely crossed when I was captured, then I was put in a cell and ... .well it was unpleasant, to say the least. I’ve been treated as little more than cattle…tainted cattle at that. The fae I encountered were terrifying, even as they looked like they should be a prince in a fairy tale from my world.” you continue, more to talk for talking’s sake than thinking he cared at all. “I don’t put much stock in the way others appear at first glance, especially now.”

Thinking for a moment about the dark cell, the horrible tortures, the comments, promises of worse…you shake your head, coming back to the present. “I don’t even have anything but this tattered dress they gave me…” you whisper, looking down.

Taking a deep breath, you work a smile back onto your lips.

“I can honestly tell you that you’ve been the kindest creature I’ve met since I came here…and it’s been a long time. Even though initially I was fearful of you..I mean you kinda showed up suddenly and the mask doesn’t help.” you turn to see he’s only a few feet from you, watching you carefully.

You pop a berry into your mouth, then hold your hand out to offer him one. “Even so…thank you for that…I…. I know I am going back to something horrible… Thank you for this time and allowing me to be free for a bit.” you smile at him softly and his eyes go wide, almost in shock at your words.

Shock, confusion, a little bit of… warmth?

Perhaps it was your imagination.

He simply holds out his hand and you scold yourself at your thoughtlessness.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I forgot about not wanting to touch me…” you tilt your hand to let a few berries fall into his palm and smile up at him.

“You…you’re confusing me.” he says and you shake your head at him.

“How so?” you ask, making your way to slip down into the crackle of leaves, sighing in relief after the long day of walking on nothing but scraps of fabric.

He sits down in front of you, studying you intently as you unwrap your feet to rub them, dabbing at the blood from the small cuts.

He just watches, seeming to contemplate something in the long silence until his rich voice breaks it once more.

“Would you…should I….” he starts, but pauses, shaking his head as he looks away, seeming to battle himself before he turns back.

His crimson eyes are intense, but you feel as if he’s finally looking at you instead of merely studying you as if you were some curiosity.

“My mother was a banshee,” he begins, and you gasp without thinking as you realize he is opening up to you.

“Does that make you afraid?” he asks at your reaction, but you just wave your hands frantically, shaking your head.

“No, no not at all! I am…shocked yet pleased that you are telling me about yourself, please ….go on. I … would like to know more about you..” you say and he seems taken aback, but it’s hard to tell with only his eyes.

Finally after a long moment, he nods and you let out the breath you were holding, eager to hear more.

His tone is low, an underlying hint of sorrow as he continues. “They say she wanted a child so much that a dokkaebi decided to grant her wish. But, instead of just bringing her a child, the goblin seduced her, and they say she fell deeply in love with him.”

He stares off seeming lost in his thoughts as he takes a moment.

You wait patiently, enthralled with his voice as his eyes meet yours once again.

“Once he had gotten her with child, he disappeared, and no fae has seen him since. Such is the way of our kind.” He shrugs, shaking his head.

“He had granted her wish, and she should be happy, grateful for the gift. Instead, she was so heartbroken from the loss of her lover, that she cursed the child for being conceived. When she finally birthed the child, they say the cries of the creature granted her final wish, to extinguish the pain from her profound loss.”

His pause is longer this time, a deep sense of despair settling over you, knowing what his next words will be before he even speaks them.

“I am that creature…that child.”

“When the humans found me, I was taken in for a time. But at my cries, if I went hungry or was upset, the many humans who cared for me would die. Finally, realizing I was not a mortal, they offered me to the fae, cursing my very existence for all the death I’d caused. My mother’s people took me in, knowing what I was, yet I am not considered one of them. I am an outcast, I was given no name as a punishment for my existence. I am merely a shade, my presence a curse. My banshee mother “gifted” me with this voice…the mere sound of it causing those around me to tremble as I am only able to bring death and devastation.”

Your throat is tight as he speaks, your fist clenched in the material over your chest as it aches for him, for the small child subjected to such a life, merely for being born.

“They gagged me before I was able to control my voice, and then taught me to never use my power unless it was of use to them. I speak now, but my voice holds a fatal danger within it. This mask is a reminder that I am aberrant, a monster…. a creature that should never have been. My only use is to carry out my orders, and obey.”

His dark eyes bore into you expectantly, but you can only manage your breathing through the tears that threaten to overwhelm you.

“When others see me, they cower and whisper in fear. They scurry from me, as I could kill them with a word, or even just a sound. They fear me for I am a threat, but also a blemish on my kind. So it has been for my entire life.”

He seems so stoic, so resigned that it hurts to even breathe.

As he finally stops speaking, you tear a piece of fabric from your dress to wipe at your eyes and he refocuses on you, his eyes conveying confusion.

“Are your feet so injured that you weep?” he asks, his brows drawing together.

Shaking your head, you stifle a sob, shaking as you try to hold back the flood of heartache his story had caused within you.

“How…how could….they…?” you finally give in and burst into tears, drawing your knees up and sobbing into your arms.

“I…do not know…how to ..what is wrong?” He asks, confused as he attempts to reach for you, then draws back.

“What’s wrong!? Everything about how they treat you is wrong! How horrible! How could they? A poor little innocent baby, what awful ... .you haven’t even done anything wrong!” you wail, and he looks at you in shock.

“Did you not hear what I said? What I am? I am-"

Frustration fills you, anger welling up.

"I did hear, I heard everything you said and they are terrible!” You look up into his eyes, confusion and panic causing him to fidget, the normally stoic male now unable to figure out what to do with his hands.

“Aren’t you angry? Hurt?” you ask him, reaching out to grasp his hands without thinking.

He lets out a startled grunt as he reels back at your touch, but instead of letting go, you hold onto him, and he ends up pulling you into him.

“DON’T!” he cries out in panic, but you shake your head, throwing your arms around his neck to hug him.

“What are you doing!?” his voice booms and you tremble as you freeze, but manage to whine through your gritted teeth.

The feeling of paralysis leaves you as he puts his hands on your waist but you only clutch him tighter.

“I’m hugging you, so just deal with it!” you yell back at him, your voice not coming anywhere near the power of his but you didn’t care right now.

“Are you..yelling at me?” he asks, astounded at the very thought, but he doesn’t force you away.

“You’ve never been hugged, have you?” you ask him in a whisper, his body tense against yours.

His gloved hands shake as he holds you, afraid to move in case he hurts you. “I .. have not.”

You just sob against his shoulder, grasping him tightly.

“Well…..now you have…so…just let me, okay?”

You feel him relax slightly as he sighs, his hands gently settling on your back, allowing you to calm gradually down into sniffles.

It was a surreal feeling, sitting in a fae’s lap as you embrace him, the very creature about to turn you over for more torture, possibly even death.

But the amount of torture you’ve endured seems so pale in comparison to what he’d been through since his birth.

It made you angry, outraged at the kind of beings who could hurt a small infant, raising him to believe he meant nothing.

“It’s not right.” you whisper, drawing back to look into his eyes, which were filled with shock, confusion…fear.

“I do not decide what is right and wro-” he says, but you glare at him, stopping his words.

Slowly pushing back the hood over his head, you can feel him begin to shake again as you raise your hands to his mask. Long dark strands of hair fall forward, soft and shimmering in the midday sun.

“Do not-” he growls out, grasping your wrist gently.

“Why not? Will it hurt me?” you ask, and he just shakes his head.

“Just-” he stops as you draw back, not wanting to push him.

“My only wish is to see you fully, but I will not force you for my own selfish wants.” You tell him softly, brushing your thumb over his exposed temple, admiring his dark crimson eyes, his beautiful sable hair.

“Why are you..I could kill you from a simple touch, with only a word..why…? I don’t understand…Aren’t you afraid?” he rasps out, his chest rising and falling erratically.

“Do you want to hurt me…to kill me?” you ask him in a whisper and his eyes darken, black and red swirling together, his arms tightening around you.

“No-never….” He whispers, shaking his head, studying your face as you search his eyes.

“My touch can wither your delicate flesh, my voice can halt your breathing eternally. You risk your very life to…hug me?” he asks, incredulous.

Your heart aches at his question, a being having never known love or care, more afraid of himself as he’s been taught nothing else, given nothing else.

“I trust you.” you whisper to him, stunning even yourself at the admission.

You barely knew him, yet…something deep within you was stirring, perhaps because you were so close to your demise…having been devoid of feeling connected to another for so long, locked away.

Whatever the reasoning, you could sense your heart stirring for this mysterious, tragic man holding you in his lap.

At your words, he stiffens, blinking rapidly as his eyes darken.

“Why?” His voice is even deeper, his words washing over you like a calm, cool breeze.

Just the one word has you catching your breath, and without hesitation or thought, you lean in to press a soft kiss to his forehead.

Your lips linger for a long moment as he trembles beneath you, a mixture of a gasp and a soft sigh barely heard through his mask as you pull away.

His eyes are full of intense emotion, and you can’t help but smile tenderly at his confusion.

“I…have no reason. It’s just how I feel.” You tell him quietly, allowing yourself to bask in the peace of this moment with him.

His hands splay out over your back, slipping up your spine and you can feel the tremor as he touches you.

“See…you’re not hurting me…” you tell him as you continue to brush his hair back, tracing the line of his eyebrow with the tip of your finger.

At your touch, he closes his eyes, as if memorizing the feeling.

You watch his throat work, but then suddenly his eyes are open, the pain within them slicing through your heart.

“You should stop.” He rasps out, but you merely shake your head, refusing. He lets out a strangled noise as he glares up at you.

“Don’t you know when you’re in danger?” he asks as he attempts to remove you from being wrapped around him.

“No.” you say simply, knowing he could toss you across the clearing easily, but unwilling to leave your spot without force.

“Why are you so stubborn?” he asks, and you just laugh softly, his eyes softening at the sound.

“It’s just my nature, I suppose. But…if you dislike my touch, I will stop. I apologize for upsetting you.”

Finally giving in, you slowly stand, removing yourself from his lap.

“I’m going to collect some more leaves…” you whisper, leaving the fae to himself for a moment, also needing to take some time for yourself.

You stop to look back at him, still looking down at his hands, his hood pushed back.

Feeling a pang of guilt for pushing him, you sigh before you continue on.

In the long months, possibly even years you’ve been here, you've been wasting away in a cell, poked and prodded at by beings who treated you horribly.

The few who had come along and shown any interest had ulterior motives, such as the tall elf who seemed to be in charge.

He’d fed you strange herbs that made you sick, promising they were to help you.

But in the end, he’d also wanted to use you, albeit in different ways than the ones who came before.

When they’d declared you barren, you’d thought it was a godsend but in reality, they had no more use for you.

As the guards who’d been transporting you had implied, you were marching right back to a certain death.

Death was the best thing that was waiting for you, you think sadly.

Yet here you were, going soft for this being they called shade, your heart opening even though you knew it would only end in tragedy for you.

“A little light in the darkness isn’t going to hurt…. It’s fine…it’s all fine..” you whisper to yourself.

The pain of his story still rages through you, the urgent need to show him care, comfort….love.

“How ironic to find such a thing, in the darkest days of my sad life.” you tell the wind, closing your eyes to the thought of his gentle touch upon you, no matter how brief.

Oddly, you feel as if you could sense his presence, and when you returned back to the little spot, you found yourself smiling at his dark form.

He was crouched near a small bush about ten feet from where you’d decided to make your little resting spot for the night.

You deposit your leaves as he stands to turn towards you, his hands cupped as he makes his way to you.

Settling yourself in the crunch of the foliage, he kneels next to you, his dark red eyes searching yours as he holds out his hands.

“What-?” you start then look down at what he is offering.

In his gloved palms, he was holding berries.

“For..me?” you ask timidly and he just nods.

“Th-thank you…” you smile at him, feeling heat creeping into your cheeks as his eyes never leave you.

You take them in your palm as if they are treasure, warmth spreading through you.

“Mm!” you exclaim as you chew on a few and he tilts his head at you in confusion.

“You act as if these aren’t the same berries you’ve been consuming this whole time.” he quips and you beam at him, munching happily.

“They taste better because you got them for me.” you tell him, your heart seeming to stutter as his eyes widen then blink quickly, and his breath catches audibly.

“I…get some rest…” he finally says, standing to turn and dissipate into that black shadowy cloud you’ve gotten used to now.

“Sweet dreams…if you sleep…” you whisper to him, grinning like a fool at the berries he’d given you as if it was the greatest gift you’ve ever received.

In your mind, his gesture means the world to you in this bleak existence you’ve found yourself in.

Shortly after your meal, you lay down in the softness of the leaves, gazing wistfully at the stars as you commit this feeling to memory.

Whatever fate has in store for you, be it death or worse, you’ve decided to save this day to a special place in your mind.

When the pain of reality becomes too much, you’ll withdraw back to this moment; this small bit of sunshine in your bleak existence.

In the trees above you, unseen, your dark fae watches over you as your eyes drift closed, a small smile playing over your lips as you drift into dreamless slumber.

The next day, you find he is watching you even more closely, actually answering your little questions a bit more openly than before. The sound of his voice makes you smile and more than once, he gives you strange, curious looks.

Neither of you speak of the prior days events, but there seems to be a simple companionship between you that wasn’t there before that makes you skip along, a little more carefree than you’ve felt in a long, long time.

You cannot see his full face but you’re convinced that at least once, you’ve made him conjure up some semblance of a smile.

Wishful thinking, perhaps.

“May I ask you something?”

The fae’s deep tone interrupts your thoughts, shocking you as you turn to look at him.

“Of course you can, anything you desire.” Smiling, you watch him as he takes his time to respond.

“How can you…smile?” he asks softly, his words barely audible.

You pause, turning to him as you think of how to answer.

“If this is too intrusive-” he starts but you just shake your head, titling it as you look off at the beautiful blue of the sky.

“I don’t mind…I’m just trying to think of how to put it into words.” You reassure him, watching as some small animals break from a brush to rush into another.

Your lips quirk at the sight and you turn your gaze back to his.

Your stomach does a little flip at his intense eyes, but you shake it off as you speak.

“I mentioned that I came across to escape from something horrible, from my world?” you finally say, your mind drifting to the day you’d run from your life.

“In my world, there is no magic, but there’s plenty of evil. Sometimes no matter how much you love or care for something, they can still hurt you. I ran away from something…someone who was hurting me.” You tell him, shrugging a shoulder as if to make light of it.

His eyes narrow, darkening and you continue before you can run from the question.

“When I crossed, I was captured. But in my mind, anything was better than what I left. I…was wrong. It was different, but just as bad as what I ran from. The fae who captured me placed me in a small dark cell and ... .I won’t go into details about the things that were done to me. I honestly don’t want to remember, let alone tell you.” your smile falters as you blink away tears, trying to recall where you were going.

You watch his head tilt downwards, his eyes hooding as he studies you, and you manage to swallow back the memories as you continue.

“I’m unsure how much you know about what they do…to humans like me.” you say and he just shakes his head.

“Well, it’s …..from what I heard from conversations I overheard and what was done to me…at least where I was. They are trying to ….breed us.” you whisper, looking down to wrap your arms around yourself.

You turn and slowly start walking as you recall to him some of your time imprisoned.

“After many …. attempts ... .I was declared ‘barren’, basically worthless.” You look over at him with a soft smile and he furrows his brow in confusion.

“The reason I was able to get myself free was because they were discarding me, as I have no use.” you tell him, shaking your head.

“I don’t even know why they sent you after me, I imagine I’m going to be ... .disposed of at my return.” you shrug, resigned.

“It sounds like I’m not answering your question, but I promise I am!” You tell him, trying to put some cheer into your voice.

You watch a vein in his neck pulse as he seems to swallow harshly, focused on you.

“You see, I spent so much time angry at myself, at everyone around me, making myself sick with all of the negative things. It really only made everything so much worse. One day, a small bird got into my little prison cell. A tiny little blue bird, and the sound of its song was like…the most beautiful, amazing thing I’d ever experienced in my life.”

You smile at the recollection, perking up. “The joy I felt from that simple little bird, the smile it put on my face made everything else ebb away. It didn’t change anything happening to me, but smiling…appreciating the smallest happiness…it made what was happening to me the smallest bit easier.”

You look down at the path you’re walking, smiling at the vivid green of the grass, the small puffs of white flowers drifting on the breeze.

“My whole life, I don’t think I spent much time smiling. But now…..now, I smile because otherwise, I’d drown in the misery of my negative thoughts. There’s so much negative, sometimes it’s too easy to be overwhelmed by it. I just decided to change my perspective and to appreciate the smallest gifts I am given.”

You hop and turn to him, reaching to grab his hand but at the last minute you remember yourself and stop.

His startled look makes you giggle as you tell him, “Like the berries! You picked them for me…you thought of my well being. Me…a silly human you are tasked with bringing back, you showed me kindness. You made me smile.” you admit, shrugging and his eyes widen, then soften as he shakes his head.

“I…do not think I’ve ever done so in my life.” he tells you and you just give him a big grin as you hop along beside him.

“You’ve made me smile many times so far. Your voice is soothing to me, beautiful like music. It makes me happy.” You say, and he stops abruptly, blinking rapidly.

“I cannot tell if you jest.” he glances over at you, wary as you beam at him.

“I would never jest about that, I truly mean it.” you say simply and he starts to walk with you once again, seeming lost in thought.

“Long after I’m gone, I hope you recall that you made at least one little creature smile in her last days.” You whisper and his head snaps over to you, seeming to process your words finally.

“You…are aware of your imminent demise yet you don’t even attempt to escape from me?” he puzzles and you laugh, a mixture of sadness and delight at the thought.

“You and I both know escaping from you isn’t possible. I may be a bit naive and extremely clumsy, but I am smart enough to know this.”

He only watches you, blinking as he nods finally.

“Yet you still could try, if you wanted to live.”

You stop at his words, turning to frown at him.

“I do want to live. I really do. But if I were to try to run, you would have to come after me, to recapture me. You’d have to use your powers….I can sense how strong you are, even as a human. I couldn’t do that to you.”

He flinches in shock, “To me?” he merely asks and you nod, closing the distance between you to look at him, to make sure he understands you.

“You’ve been used…treated like you’re only worth what only your powers can do for those who would exploit you. I would be forcing you to do the same, against your will. From what it sounds like, the fae who raised you to be a tool only treat you as an object. I….know all too well what that feels like, and I just…” your heart pounds from the memory of his story.

“I will not push you into having to do their bidding any more than you already have to. Despite being completely pointless- it’s not as if I can run and hide from you successfully…which means you would also have to do something that seems to cause you pain…or sadness.” he simply watches you, his eyes almost black as you speak.

“I prefer to speak with you, to hear your voice, to learn about you, to-” your throat clenches at the words that want to come forth and your breath hitches.

“I…accept the fate I’ve been given and want to make the time I have not memorable, not running from it. I’m always running from something; this time…I’ve decided to face things and enjoy beauty where I can find it. You’re my …companion at the end…I don’t wish to make you my enemy, nor do I want to abuse you like others do.”

You finally stop, giving another shrug as you put your hands behind your back, turning to continue your journey. “Sorry I didn’t have a short answer for you…” you purse your lips, wondering if you’ve annoyed him with your rambling.

There is a comforting silence following your long explanation, the soft sounds of nature around you soothing as you breathe in deeply.

You hear an odd creaking noise and turn to look at your companion oddly. You glance down at his leather clad hands where the sound emanates and frown, noticing him clenching his fists.

“Have I upset you? If I have-”

“No. Not you.” his deep growl sends a chill through your entire being at the rage you sense lurking.

“Oh…” is all you say, unconsciously walking a bit closer to him.

You notice his breathing is a bit rough under his mask and suddenly feel a wave of sadness for upsetting him, even if unintentional.

“I’m sorry for saying so much, I overshared a bit.”

His eyes meet yours and your heart stops as his eyebrows draw together, an expression of almost…sympathy in his eyes startling you.

“There is nothing to apologize for. You have nothing to be sorry about…” his emphasis has your breath catching in your throat and your heart swelling.

Was he…angry for you?

The thought has you dizzy with confusion and emotion.

“Thank you…for listening.” you breathe out, having to almost physically force your gaze from him, heat warming your cheeks.

“You’re…welcome.” He responds, and you continue on as the sun slowly dips beneath the treeline, before you make your resting place for yet another night.

Your pace was slow, but instead of rushing you, your fae companion was allowing you to set the speed. It was as if he was allowing you as much time as you needed before your end.

You couldn’t be more grateful, you think as your eyes close, sensing him nearby.

Your sleep is restless, drifting through memories of your time back in your cell. The sounds harsh breathing in your ear, whatever creature was holding you beneath them tearing your flesh as they-

You awake to your own sobbing, shaking violently as you struggle to breathe.

You’re curled onto your side, hot tears trailing from one eye to the other as you clutch the ragged material of your dress.

It takes you a few moments to register the figure of ‘shade’, not even two feet from you, his crimson eyes seemingly on fire in the dim orange light of the sunrise.

His hands were hovering near you, palms open, a look of concern on his brow.

He doesn’t speak a word as your breathing slowly returns to normal, his nearness almost calming, bringing you back to reality.

Sitting up, you finally unball your fist from your chest, your jaw aching from having been clenching it, probably all throughout your nightmare.

Rubbing your face, you take a deep breath as you wipe at your damp face.

“You were screaming.” His voice washes over you like a wave, instantly dispersing any lingering memory of your dream and you sigh in relief.

“Sorry I-”

His grunt stops you and you look at him in confusion.

“You say that word needlessly, far too often.” he says simply and you let out a small laugh, realizing he’s right.

“Habit, sor-” You put your hand over your mouth and let out a soft giggle.

The sides of his eyes crinkle a bit and you almost gasp as you realize he may be smiling.

Resisting the overwhelming urge to reach out and pull off his mask, you stand, brushing at the leaves clinging to your gown.

“I suppose we should-”

He turns before you can finish, pulling out a large leaf with berries on it.

“Eat first.” He says, standing as you finally take his offering, staring at him in awe.

“Thank you.” You whisper and he only nods as he walks a few feet away, seeming to look out at the path ahead.

It only takes you a few moments to consume the food, then you’re standing and joining him.

“Ready?” You ask and he just gazes at you for a moment before he gives you one nod, following as you set your slow, plodding pace for the day.

You are mostly silent, lost in thought as you travel, casting looks occasionally at your travel companion.

Almost every time, you catch his eyes on you and his gaze never fails to warm you, your stomach doing little flips.

As if subconsciously, you make almost double the amount of stops today as you normally have, knowing you must be getting close to wherever he’s taking you.

During a particularly quiet bit of time where you’ve stopped to admire the view from the side of a cliff face, you watch as birds fly free and sigh in envy.

There is water far below, and you can faintly hear the waves crash into the rocks lining the shoreline.

Smiling as you close your eyes, you tip your face to the sun, basking in the mildly salty scent of the ocean.

Upon opening, you can’t help but envy the winged creatures flying overhead.

“Oh to be a bird…” you whisper under your breath, taking a step forward without thinking.

There’s a sudden shift as the ground beneath your feet gives way, your small cry cut off as you plummet quickly towards the rocks below.

This is it, you conclude, your heart torn between sadness and elation as you fall to meet your death.

Yet, instead of the bone breaking impact of the terrain of the shore, a familiar black cloud surrounds you, then you’re being clutched tightly in a pair of strong arms.

Barely able to breathe, you just cling to him as he sets down onto the ground below, trembling as you try to recover your breath.

“Are you alright?” he asks, and you glance up at him, grateful.

“I-I think so…” you stutter out, grasping onto him as he looks around where you’ve both landed.

“I’m sorry…I … “ you try to explain, but the concern in his eyes has you catching your breath.

“You…voluntarily touched me…” you realize out loud and he grunts in response, finally spotting a clear area to set you down.

As he does, you let your arms linger around his neck, looking up at him affectionately.

“Thank you.” you say softly, and he just watches you closely for a long moment, searching your eyes.

Finally, he is the one to break the silence.

“Why do you look at me so intently?” he asks, his intense gaze never breaking from yours.

“I….I was wondering once more what you hide beneath the mask.” you tell him simply and he scoffs at you, removing your arms from around him, stepping back.

“Nothing worth seeing.” he tosses out, surveying the area around you.

“I’d like to have my own opinion on that.” you state, walking over to him to take his gloved hand.

He stiffens at your touch, but does not pull away.

“You confuse me.” he says, not for the first time.

“I confuse myself sometimes, so it’s okay.” you say, smiling tenderly up at him.

As he turns his eyes on you again, your heart trips over itself as you feel the overwhelming need to see him, see his face, to remove the mask keeping you from seeing him.

All of him.

You have nothing to lose, something inside of you states.

Giving in to the pulsing demand of your inner voice, you start moving before you even realize you are doing so.

Reaching up, you push back his hood, but he steps away in alarm, putting distance between you both, his long dark hair shining in the sunset.

“May I…” you extend your hand towards him, but his eyes register panic as your fingers brush his mask.

“No.” he says brusquely, turning away from you.

“Please…I…don’t know why but I -”

His voice is soft but heavy with emotion as he shakes his head, his long strands falling softly around his face.

“There is nothing you gain from seeing what lies beneath.”

“There is nothing I lose, either..” You whisper to him softly, reaching for him once more.

This time he remains still, allowing you to approach.

You watch the rise and fall of his chest as you brush back the softness of his hair, his eyelashes fluttering at your touch.

“You do not need to lay eyes on the pathetic creature that this hides. The monster that I am.”

“You’re not a pathetic creature nor are you a monster, not to me.” you say, grasping his hand.

“Not to me. You’re more than that.”

His ragged breathing is the only sound between you as you wait, his eyes searching yours.

“You have treated me kindly, you’ve saved my life-” His eyes look pained at your words as he shakes his head.

“I am only doing my duty, obeying my orders.” he bites out, but you see something deeper in the depths of his gaze.

“You know I am going back to almost certain death.” you whisper and you can see him wince, his hand trembling slightly in yours.

“I am not asking for you to free me. I accept my fate…I have nowhere to run.”

“Let me lay eyes on what you want to hide…let me see all of you. Take it as a dying woman’s wish.” his eyes flutter at your words, keeping them closed for a moment before he looks at you intensely.

“You speak of your death so easily, as if it doesn’t matter.” he responds softly.

You only smile up at him as the darkness closes in around you, the light of the moon illuminating his eyes.

“Death is inevitable, and you’ve given me this precious time with you before I meet my end. I’ll cherish every moment, every single second with you. In the time I have left…I want to see all of you.”

You beam up at him, giving him time to take in your words.

His eyes seem to filter through an array of emotions as you look at one another.

Pain, fear, agony…

Longing.

As you watch those beautiful eyes, they seem to settle as he lets out an almost resigned sigh.

“Why is it that to me, you shine brighter than the moon?” he asks suddenly, reaching out to cup your face.

Your breath hitches at his touch and you lean into the caress.

“How do you do this, light up everything around you?” he asks, and you just smile at him sadly, your hand cupping his as he brushes his thumb over the tear rolling down your cheek.

“I’m only bright because you’re so used to the dark.” You respond, but he shakes his head.

“You’re much more than a light in the darkness. You belong in an open field of beautiful flowers under the sun, not lighting up this oppressive night.”

You know he’s not only referring to the shadows surrounding you, his words causing your heart to tremble, yearning even more for him.

You can only press yourself into him, brushing back the long strands of dark hair as he swallows at your nearness.

You can feel your very soul quiver as he wraps a strong arm around you, holding you close.

“I much prefer the beauty of the things I can bring the light to.” you whisper softly.

He closes his eyes and you let your hand slip behind his head, trailing your finger along the strap holding his mask in place.

“Monsters lurk in the darkness.” he whispers in a low tone, his hand gently stopping you as he opens his eyes, the pained red bleeding into the black of his irises, almost begging you not to go any further.

Your heart pangs at the undercurrent of distress in their depths, but you know inherently that there’s nothing for him to fear, that you only need to prove it to him.

“I’m more afraid of the monsters that walk amongst the flowers than I ever will be of the creatures in the dark.”

You unhook the strap and let it fall, noting the sheer agony within his eyes.

He closes them tightly as the mask falls, revealing one of the most breathtakingly perfect faces you’ve ever seen.

Blinking back fresh tears at his need to hide himself, you can only bask in the sight of him; his beautiful lips quiver slightly at your sharp intake of breath.

“Perhaps the beings in the dark aren’t monsters at all,” you whisper softly, “Just lonely creatures too afraid to show themselves to the light.”

The tears clouding your vision finally begin to fall as you gaze in complete awe at his features, his body shuddering as your words seem to stun him.

You watch his adams apple bob as he swallows, choking back a sob at his unwillingness to look at you.

“You're stunning.” you whisper as you find your voice, letting your fingers trace his jawline, the tips of your fingers skimming along his lips.

“You should not hide yourself from others….from me. Your voice is beautiful, as is this face you mask.”

Your breath catches as he leans into your touch, cupping his cheek gently as you admire him.

“You should proudly stand above all those who would look down on you and proclaim your right as a living being, deserving of love and kindness.”

His eyes gradually open as you speak, warily studying your face for any signs of deception, confusion playing across his sculptured features.

His lips part as you bask in the brilliance of his beauty, the moon illuminating a single sparkling tear in the corner of his eye.

Trembling as you take in the sight of him, you are flooded by emotions long forgotten overwhelming your very soul.

“Yeosang.” you whisper, the name coming from deep within you.

“What-? What...does that mean?” He asks softly, his voice barely audible, his brows draw together in uncertainty.

Your fingers trace the graceful line of his nose, whispering across his flawless cheek; letting your fingertips brush the dark lashes as his eyes flutter at your touch.

“Yeosang…I cannot give you much in this world but…I can give you a name. In my world, “Yeosang” means ‘sound from a high point’ in one of the languages where I am from.”

Your hand drops down, running a palm along his throat, eyes flicking up to watch a tear trace a line down his cheek.

Your heart aches at the myriad of emotions in his eyes, and you long to have him understand what it is you see, visually and with your heart.

How deeply he moves you; what he has come to mean to you in such a short time together.

What you yearn for him to believe; that he is worth something.

“Use your voice for yourself. To me, you stand above them all, so I want you to see yourself as I do.”

You lean in to place a soft kiss to his brow, and his arms tighten around you as his breath hitches at your words.

“You’re no monster…you’re a radiant, magnificent being trapped and abused by those who fear you. You are only hiding yourself in the shadows.”

He lets out a choked gasp as you press another soft kiss to his cheek,

“Yeosang…it also means ‘everything’.” You tell him.

His eyes are hooded as they play over your features, head down as he looks at you through those dark lashes.

He pauses before he whispers, “Everything?”

Tilting his face up to yours, urging him to look deep within your eyes. A swell of emotion washes over you, and you give in to the words that seem to come from the very depth of your soul.

“Yes, Yeosang. Because you are everything….my everything.”

His lips part as your fingers entwine into his ebony tresses, guiding his mouth to yours.

He lets out a small whimper as your lips meet, pulling you flush against him.

His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you part for him, urging him to take whatever it is he wants.

Slowly, gently he cups your cheek, brushing his gloved thumb over your skin, tilting your head as he deepens the kiss.

On a small gasp, he draws back, a look of concern washing over his exposed features, his lips drawing down in a frown.

“Am I hurting you?” he questions, fear evident in his eyes.

You lean forward to press your lips to his once more, settling your forehead against his as you shake your head.

“Not at all. Your touch is everything I’ve ever wanted…needed…” you sigh, and his eyelashes flutter as you take his hand to place it on your chest, your heart thundering in the stillness.

“Listen…” you whisper, your eyes steady on his.

“For you.”

His breath hitches as you place your hand on his chest, sighing softly as you feel the increasing rhythm with every passing moment.

It seems as though your heart syncs to the tempo of his, yearning to merge, to fuse with his very soul.

Your eyes lock with his, the silence surrounding you seeming to fill with ever growing symphony of emotion overwhelming you for this man.

The words leave your lips, without thought, just pure and simple.

Right.

“I love you.”

Though said on the softest of whispers, his reaction is as if a thunderclap has broken him from his reverie, his eyes sharpening as he searches your face.

Swallowing heavily, you breathe out, “I…barely know you, and maybe I’m insane...but it’s as if I was destined to always make my way to you.”

Your words are barely audible, your cheeks burning at the confession.

His sudden movement catches you off guard, fear threatening to claw it’s way up your throat, worried he will push you away; that you’ve made a mistake in voicing your feelings.

Instead, his eyes remain locked onto your as he yanks at his gloved hands, shedding the leather quickly before he reaches for you once more.

You shudder as he tentatively traces his fingertips along your cheek, brushing away the fresh tears. “I fear that words can do no justice to how you move me…they can only pale at the vibrant way that you’ve set me ablaze. The words that spiral through my mind can never explain the profound strength of how I’ve come to cherish you.”

Your heart aches at his admission, closing your eyes to the flood of emotions that wash over you, the stream of tears flowing freely as he holds you.

Your mouths meet once more as he pulls you to him, seeming to pour every ounce of himself into the kiss he breathes into you.

Your hand covers his as he cups your cheek, marveling at how gentle he is, how delicately he touches you.

“Yeosang…” you murmur against his lips and his breath catches, his tongue rolling against yours as he lets out a soft moan.

“Say it again.” He demands and you smile against his mouth, letting your hand reach up to comb through his long silken strands.

“Yeosang. My Yeosang.” The emotions coiling in your chest, your stomach seem to coalesce into an urge so strong, so powerful that you can’t deny them.

“Make me yours, Yeosang,” you gasp out, as if the words are speaking from your very soul.

Your trembling is noticeable in your voice and he lets out a shaky moan as you press yourself against him. His arousal is unmistakable as he slips his hands down your back and you gasp at the way your body responds to him.

His eyes flare open, a deep scarlet filled with lust and concern as he shakes his head at you.

“I will not do such a thing after what you’ve been through. Not after-” his words are hushed with a touch from your fingers, even as his hands find purchase on your hips.

Brushing your thumb along his lower lip, you blink slowly at him, smiling gently.

“There is nothing here besides you and I, just the two of us. You need not concern yourself about harming me in such a way.. I am making the choice. I am choosing you.”

His eyes soften at your words, and he lets out a soft sigh, parting his lips to take your thumb into his mouth.

“I…want you more than I have words to describe….. yet…” his eyes shift and you furrow your brow at his hesitance.

“I will not force you into anything-” you tell him, suddenly worried that you’re the one crossing the line here.

“No-I want you. I truly, truly want you…” his hands tighten on your hips as he lets out a shaky breath, hips pressing forward as if to prove his point.

You swallow heavily at his words, heat rising up your neck as well as pooling between your legs.

“But?” you ask him, trying not to do anything to push your own needs, holding as still as you can, to not influence his decision.

“I-” his eyes are still averted, his throat working.

“I have never…been wanted…been with-”

His eyes dart back to yours and you can’t help a small curl of your lips at his admission, at the rosy tint to his beautiful cheeks.

“Is that your only concern?” You ask him softly and he blinks slowly, nodding as you run your hand over his shoulders.

“Yeosang…” you whisper, rocking your hips gently against him, gasping at his reaction to you.

His head tilts back, fingers digging into your hips, then your ass as he slips them down to pull you harder into him.

You lean down to press a kiss to the hollow of his neck, letting your tongue tease at his pulse as you roll your hips against him.

His deep, throaty moan just heightens your need for him and you dig your nails into his shoulders.

“If that is the only reason you hold back, then let me assure you. I want you, Yeosang. I will show you everything, if you want to make me yours, for I intend to make you mine if you’ll let me.”

His entire body shudders against you and his soft growl has your eyes rolling back.��

“Let me show you how I love you. Let me show you what it means to be loved.” you whisper, kissing up his neck, nibbling at his earlobe.

“Please-” he whimpers and you press your cheek to his, eyes shuttering. He hands halt their exploration, holding you in place as he draws back to study your eyes.

“Do you trust me?” He asks softly and you nod without hesitation.

“Then hold tight to me.” he whispers suddenly and your arms tighten around him without question.

“Don’t be afraid…” his voice seems to come from everywhere as you’re surrounded by a black mist, suspended within.

Closing your eyes, you feel a sense of euphoria as weightlessness takes over, a low melodic hum seeming to come from all around.

Before long you’re released from the mist and you open your eyes to watch him solidify in front of you as he reaches out to steady you.

“What-?” you begin but your words are cut off at the intake of breath when you realize where he’s brought you.

The sound of the small waterfall you’d bathed in days ago draws your eye, the canopy of trees above letting in the brilliant light of the moon.

“I…wanted to bring you somewhere you seemed to enjoy…where you laughed…” he whispers and you turn to look at Yeosang full unmasked, standing before you.

Your heart feels as if it’s going to leap right out of your chest, and tears flood your eyes as you process where you are.

That he thought to bring you here.

His intense eyes study you, seeming almost nervous as he watches your reaction.

Closing the distance quickly, you reach out to cup his face in your hands, unable to contain your bright smile.

“Are you happy?” He asks softly, his fingers tentatively brushing away an errant tear that slips from your eye.

“Nothing could make me happier than being here with you, right at this very moment.” You respond, and his lips part as he watches you laugh in delight.

“Then I…am ….happy as well.” He says, his brows drawing together at the seemingly foreign emotion.

You can only blink away tears as he reclaims your mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His lips are soft and gentle as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, splaying his hand over your lower back.

Your tongue eagerly seeks his out, your fingers reaching up to comb through his soft, silky black hair. The low hum seeming to emanate from his chest spurs you on, pressing yourself ever closer to him.

The ache of desire for him shocks and captivates you, an almost forgotten feeling and it causes you to tremble uncontrollably.

Your entire body thrums with anticipation as his hands begin exploring the length of your back, his fingers tracing your spine as he rubs his thumbs up your sides. You bask in the sensation of being in his arms, at every single wanted touch he gifts you.

“Tell me…once more..” He whispers between kisses, his hands slowly bunching the threadbare gown you’ve washed far too many times.

“Tell me you want this…that you want…me…” he continues as you wrap a leg around his thigh, tilting your head back as his lips trail down your jaw.

“Yes…yes I want you, I want all of you…”

Your words seem to unlock whatever he was holding back and suddenly you’re beneath him, his arms on either side of you as he gazes down at you with those deep crimson eyes.

The blades of grass are soft, tickling your skin as you part your legs, as his hands slip beneath the hem of the fragile down, his fingertips tracing up your naked thigh.

A soft moan bubbles out of your throat at his touch, the longing ache for him causing you to tug at his shirt. “All of you-” you gasp out, yanking, pulling at his clothing, at the straps keeping him from you.

A frantic moment is spent as he helps you, removing his belts, then his shirt. His long hair surrounds his face as he looks down at you before he lunges to capture your lips with his once more.

The rush of the waterfall seems like nothing compared to the rage of need between the two of you, as he gently yet firmly presses against you; as you desperately urge him on.

“More-please- '' you gasp, and his fingers comply, pulling the material of your dress up over your hips, his hand splaying over the flesh of your stomach.

“Anything you want-anything-” He whispers, his teeth nipping your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before he trails kisses down your jaw.

“I need to feel you-” you murmur, your hands skimming down his back to yank angrily at his pants, and he quickly sheds them. You get a quick glimpse of his naked muscled form above you before he returns his mouth to your throat, sucking and licking the sensitive flesh as he pushes your flimsy gown higher up.

With a grunt, he pulls it up over your head, then tosses it to the side. His dark eyes scan your bare chest hungrily before he returns to exploring your mouth with his.

As his body settles against you, the welcome weight of him pressing into you, you let out a loud moan. His hips jerk as his rigid length rubs along your damp slit, a strangled cry escaping his throat as he presses his face into your neck.

Running your hand along his spine, you place soft kisses on the crown of his head, holding him as he shudders in your arms.

“So much…” he whispers, humming softly as you feel moisture against the skin of your neck.

“Take your time…I’m right here…” you reassure him gently, trailing your fingers through his hair.

The melody of the night surrounds you as he breathes into you, the moonlight illuminating your naked entwined bodies as he slowly raises his head, lips parted as he gazes down upon you.

“As am I, precious.” His voice echoes through your mind, his rich warm eyes engulfing you as he rocks his hips forward.

His words shake you to your core. Your back arches as the underside of his cock slips through your folds, your longing moan melding with his low gasp. As his arms slips beneath you, you wrap a leg around his hip, meeting his movements with your own.

Your eyelids flutter as he rocks his hips, his tip rubbing along your clit as he watches every reaction, eyes glued to your face.

“Soft…” he hums, voice deep and low as his cock pulses against you, “So warm and soft…” he looks down between you as he wets himself with your moisture.

“Your scent is making me dizzy…” he whispers, his hand delving between you to gather the pooling liquid seeping from you, from his touch, his words.

Crying out as his fingertips explore your cunt, he shudders as his eyes lock back onto your face. “This…?” He breathes out, his thumb flicking back over your clit, gasping along with you as you moan at his touch.

“Yes! Oh…god…” you whimper as he draws his hips back, the head of his cock pressing firmly against your eager entrance. You can feel his body tense as he feels your walls give slightly, halting with just the tip against you.

“You…asked me to..make you mine…” he shudders, eyes slowly closing, then opening to stare deeply into yours. “Do you truly wish to be mine?”

His question moves you; on the very verge of claiming you, he has enough concern for you to check once more.

To worry, to care.

You’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

“I long for nothing more…I want…no…” you whisper, your voice shaking as you reach up to cup his cheek “I need you more than I need breath.”

He licks his lips and seems to glow with radiance at your confession, the silvery light of the moon illuminating his glorious face.

“As you wish.” He hums softly as he pushes forward, causing you to cry out in bliss as he finally joins with you.

The sensation of him stretching you rips a moan from your throat, your pleasure only heightened by his gorgeous features contorting in pure ecstasy as he fills you slowly.

You watch him struggle to keep his eyes open, to watch your every reaction as he buries himself within you. Shuddering, his lashes flutter as your walls grip him tightly.

You lift your hips, rocking them gently beneath him as you bask in his every expression.

How his nose scrunches; how his lips part as his hips begin to move in time with yours.

“Mine…” his voice catches on the word, trailing off into a deep moan.

“Yours.” Your response seems to free him from any lingering hesitance as he brings his fingers up to his lips, his tongue flicking out to taste the moisture on them.

“FUCK-” His crimson eyes flash open as he thrusts forward, crashing his mouth against yours, letting you taste yourself on his eager tongue.

Wordlessly, he begins to set a steady pace as you wrap yourself around him, encouraging him with every touch, every breath.

His low moans grow louder as he draws yours out, the sound of your bodies meeting melding with the sound of the environment around you.

The rush of the waterfall, the hum of the chirping insects serving as an ode to your union, your cries intertwining with his to create a melody that is playing out between the two of you.

“Yeosang-!” you sing to him, his deep throaty cries lost in the flesh of your throat as he licks, then nips the skin.

“I-I love you-” he growls almost too low to hear but your soul resonates as if he screamed them to the heavens.

Your cries reach a crescendo as his sharp teeth nick your skin, the steadily building coil in your womb exploding at the heated sting of your skin being pierced.

Tightening your arms around him as he marks you, wave after wave of rapture shaking your body, he continues to pound into you.

“M-mine-” he stutters, licking the fresh mark, soothing it with kisses.

His words are cut short as you guide him into a roll, his eyes widening as his back is now on the plush grass beneath you.

“As you’re mine-” you gasp, still trembling from the powerful climax. His hands settle on your hips as you grip his shoulders, settling your thighs on either side of his.

Your eyes hold his as you rock your hips, reveling in how they roll back as your wet heat trickles between you, as your cunt grips him firmly as if to never let go.

“I love you-” you moan as you lift yourself, drawing out his deep moans as you slide back down.

“You’re my everything, Yeosang…” you murmur, arms wrapping around his neck as he sits up to claim your words with his mouth.

“Always.” He whispers as his hands slide down your back to cup your ass, lifting you, guiding you faster, harder down onto him.

Throwing your head back, your eyes flutter open to gaze at the brilliant moon, memorizing this sacred moment; joined with him, his melodic voice filling the empty reaches of your soul as his body fills yours completely.

His lips capture your nipple as your movements become desperate, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. The searing sensation as he sucks harshly at the sensitive nub has you crying out loudly, tears pricking your eyes.

“More-louder-for me-” He rasps out, and your eyes dart down to see his eyes locked on you above him.

Clenching ever tighter around him, you give in to him and release your voice into the night sky, crying out wordlessly as you ride him.

His own frantic cries mix with yours as your fingers wrap into the strands of his hair, pressing your forehead to his as you feel him begin to tremble violently underneath you.

“Come for me-” you beg him harshly, your breath hitching as you shake in his arms.

“With me-” you urge as his eyes hold yours, his moans becoming low whines; his crimson eyes darkening as he finally chokes out your name.

You’re both lost in each other’s gazes as his arms wrap around you; pulling you down onto him with inhuman strength as he loses himself in you, to you.

The explosion of his voice spirals you into your own orgasm as he bursts, the torrent of his climax mixing with yours in a raging flood.

His cries are frenzied as he empties himself deep inside of you, his cock throbbing as he clutches you tightly against him.

Your head spins at the power behind your joining, the sensation of floating, suspended beyond space and time.

Only this moment matters, this singular piece of your life, in his arms.

Together.

Connected.

Time seems to fall back into place as the noises around you slowly return, a low hum resonating through your body from Yeosang’s as he holds you against him.

Finally, after an eternity of silence, you allow yourself to speak.

“I love you.”��

The warmth of his gaze says everything as his lips claim yours.

His hands and mouth speak louder than any words as you give in to him once more, again and again through the long, blissful night.

“I will not return you.”

Yeosang stands staring off into the distance as you rise, the morning sun appearing to form a halo around the beautiful fae man.

His words cause your heart to stutter, halting your movements as you go to pull your worn gown over your head.

“-w-what?” you say softly, as hope begins to bloom in your chest.

Facing away from you, his shoulders tense, he merely shakes his head, turning to gaze at you. His eyes are full of love, concern, weariness as gives you a gentle smile.

“I refuse to surrender you to -” he can’t seem to bring himself to say it, turning away from you to look off into the forest.

The bright sounds of birds echo through the clearing, the peaceful ambiance of the morning accentuated with the musical cascade of the waterfall.

You walk up behind him, tracing your fingers down his arm before entwining your fingers with his. He looks down at your hand in his, his profile a glorious sight now that he's abandoned his mask.

He turns to look at you, pain in his eyes mixed with a longing you understand all too well. You both know all too well that with hope, with dreams come obstacles.

Obstacles that threaten the very happiness you've both just discovered within one another, and your chest tightens with terror at what may threaten it.

Yet right now, your only with is to stay with him, for him to stay with you.

Forever.

“What...what about those you told me of? Will-will they come for you?” You ask him softly as he pulls you into his embrace, as his beautiful crimson eyes softening at your concern.

“That matters little, compared to what awaits you if we return.” He hums, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His deflection doesn't go unnoticed, though.

A frown tugs at your lips, a sudden pang of fear causing you to clutch him tightly.

“Will they hunt you down?” You ask breathlessly, hoping he will deny it, yet knowing the truth already.

He inhales slowly, looking away once more as he lets out a long sigh. “That is not something you need to worry about, precious. I will not let any harm come to you, not as long as I draw breath.”

“What about the harm that can come to you?” You shiver at the very thought, how he could be hurt...killed.... because of you.

His gaze rests on your worried features, those crimson eyes hardening in resolve, studying yours as he cups your face in his hands.

“Whatever harm may befall me, nothing will keep me from protecting you with my very life. I swear it upon my very soul.” His lips brush yours as his gaze darts down to the mark on your neck.

“We belong to one another, and nothing in this realm or the next will keep us apart. I won't lose you, nor will you lose me. This I promise you.”

“Where is he?!” the captain’s voice reverberates through the keep. “I sent him out to bring her back ages ago! How dare such a wretched creature not obey his master with haste?”

All within earshot cower from the rage oozing from the giant fae, and those within the room tremble at his wrath.

“How hard is it to find a simple human? A small, fragile female doesn't stand a chance. He should have been back within days. How long has it been?” He turns to a small boggart in the corner.

“Three weeks, my liege.” the creature's voice rasps out, eyes darting around in fear.

“Three weeks?” The captain’s hands clench tightly as his jaw tics. “Never before has he failed to complete his tasks immediately. Shade knows his place among us, he wouldn't fail to fulfill a mission."

"He knows the punishment that awaits a simple delay... there is only one answer." His momentary silence seems to cause more terror than his previous outburst.

The dry laugh that escapes the large fae is laden with venom, sharp enough to cut.

"It seems that our obedient hound is trying to break his leash."

The air is tense as the lesser fae wait on their captain's orders.

“It’s time to show him who he answers to. I’ve long been too lenient with that vile monster.”

He turns to rake his eyes over the fae gathered in the large room, black eyes oozing rage as he gives his command.

“Bring me that rabid mutt’s head. It’s time for the hunter to become the hunted.”

#cultofdionysusnet #ksmutsociety #Thrill of the Hunt #Yeosang smut #Yeosang au #Kang Yeosang smut #Kang Yeosang au #Ateez smut #Ateez au #Fantasy fan fic

292 notes · View notes