#< the Void Sea/Dark Place >

[fqntasies]

Just a taste, baby - Feyd Rautha x Reader

summary: You and Feyd-Rautha have been connected through dreams since childhood; a complex inner-working of the Bene Gesserit mothers to join your bloodlines. It binds the two of you in a pull you can't escape (nor do you want to). Feyd is absolutely feral for you.

words: 1,258

disclaimer: characters may be out of character, specifically feyd, considering his desperate softness here. just a forewarning.

You were trapped, breaths coming out of shallow pants as you felt the scratch of the cement structure beneath your palms. He had you against the wall in a hidden alcove; along one of the lengthy corridors of the palace in Giedi Prime. Your mouths were just breaths apart. In fact the Harkonnen before you seemed intent on matching your breaths, mingling them. Tasting your tiny pants as his own. It made your eyes heavy, made you want to tilt your head back and close your eyes, give him access to the expanse of your neck.

"sweetness." He rasped, unable to control himself. The Na-Baron wrapped an arm about your waist, a vice arching you against him as he lowered a wanting mouth to your neck, licking and sucking where the two met. You mewled at the wet heat, felt him growl desperately at the taste.

The two of you hadn't even kissed yet - but the wait; the dreams - you both knew each other to the soul.

---- flashback ----------

The sands of Arakis and Geidi Prime alike carried mysteries of prophesies of the lisan-al-gaib. But midst such tales, the Bene-Geserit mothers also had worked to connect bloodlines through dreams. The Na-Baron and the princess of Arrakis had been bound by such since birth. A well-planned move to align feuds and place power into wanting hands in preparation of war. A web of politcal conspiracy only they controlled. Their plans could not be foiled.

But Feyd couldn't care less about such witchcraft; and neither, if one were honest, could you. The two of you had known of this binding since a young age. And when you had met as children too - the connection had been strong.

"Their line is bright" The reverend mother's voice had burned into your mind, even at 10 years old.

You remembered her cloaked form; a black shadow against the haze of the horizon, a tower above you as she turned from your parents. Her voice had been void of emotion, except for a smugness you didn't understand. But when you turned to glance at the older boy before you (such a uniquely beautiful boy; broad shoulders and smooth skin, black attire across a lithe form), his eyes shone with an intensity that surprised her. Dark, watching, intrigued. He intimidated you. He made you curious.

At 15 years of age, the Na-Baron hadn't spoken in their meeting; but he had felt more than he had imagined. The girl...she had made him feel things. It confused and awakened him to something he had never known. His uncle had never spoken of such a pull. A need.

When the ship had arrived to his homeworld, and the strange foreigners parted like a sea, Feyd-Rautha found himself straightening to his full height; head lowered as he studied them beneath an angled gaze. Garbs of strange colors - hair he had never seen before in elegant styles. He would be Harkonnen predator. He would be a warrior. Strike fear in these alien people, show the Baron he was not swayed so easily by something new.

But then-

Swathed in layers of white, a girl stepped forward; dainty and gracious above all else; practically floating across the landing platform. Yet her eyes betrayed her; darting to capture the landscape, thrown off perhaps by the infrared of Giedi Prime's black sun above them.

She was drinking in the strange newness before her, and then they found him. Feyd felt his chest tighten. Fists clenched. Heat brimmed under the chestplate of his armor.

She looked like some newborn animal, caught in his gaze. But they both felt it. The familiarity. The warm hum between them. It made you want to slip from the safety of your parents and stand beside him, as though his shadow was more protection than the whole parade your own family brought with them. You wondered if he'd felt the same.

Three nights later, you had dreamed of him. A bit older, hand in his as he raised it to his lips. His eyes had never left yours. As a young girl it made you blush. Now...

--------------------------------

You made a breathy sound as his tongue lathed the mark he had made, moving with a lazy carelessness across your pulse, hungry above all else, uncaring for decorum. He wanted to devour you entirely. He wanted you to see you helpless and delirious against him, just as you were now. As you were in all his dreams.

He knew you'd had them all too. His eyes on you at their wedding. His tongue against yours, moans and tastes and hunger. You watching from the arena as he slaughtered man after man, coated and heaving. He felt like a beast.

"Feyd-" His name barely formed, like a prayer from your lips.

His eyes nearly lolled in his head at the way you sounded, and he dragged his wanting mouth up to meet yours. Wet and wanting. Feyd's free hand shifted to engulf your slender neck, moving your head against his mouth to deepen the kiss, taste all of you. Consume.

The Na-Baron was all muscle and prowess, a looming figure that practically dwarfed you. The spanse of his shoulders alone were sinful, and deep down you loved how it felt to be completely in his grasp. Guiding you in your movements.

Feyd's tongue sought yours as much as he could, controlling and demanding - but you were a needy little thing too, weren't you? In the haze of passion you were pressing into him - leaning just as much towards his heat as he was pushing you both together. You sucked his plush bottom lip into your mouth - unable to help yourself. After all, why was he made so beautiful, if not to kiss? He was quick to follow, biting your own with a growl that made your knees practically give, and following with his greedy tongue.

"You're going to be my wife." the words are a promise, his eyes glittering under the low light; shadows flashign with the coming storm. You part your mouth as though to taste him again, a helpless 'please' slipping past as you arch in his grasp.

Feyd practically took you then and there. Enter the nearest room... make all his dreams a reality. His patience was nearly worn thin. Years of waiting, of hunger. And now it was here. You were in his reach, that tempting little waist; those hips. It made him absolutely insane.

He wets his lips, gaze feverish.

"tomorrow. tomorrow sweetness, hmm? Can wait that long?" He intends to tease you, but he knows he speaks to himself, his jaw locking as he adjusts his arms to press you against him.

You're so fucking soft. It makes him groan. Of all the things he's known in his life, softness was not one of them, save for the flashes of you in his dreams. He craved you like a creature starved. Thoughts of you made him fight better. Made him kill easier.

There's a rumble suddenly of a drone; Harkonnen orders breaking the silence in distorted code. The words don't make sense to your ears. Not yet anyway. You hope to make progress in the language, but it was a challenge; more than others. The variety of tones were a feat for any foreigner to take on; but this was to be your home. A lady of harkonnen would learn her husband's native tongue.

You know he has to leave.

[interstellarsystem]

Nonhumans are here, even if you do not see us. We always will be. We are often hard to spot, but can be found doing all the things a human might.

A cat went to work at an event stall for a mental health service.

A massive sea serpent wanted to go to science class because it enjoyed it more than the rest of those living in its shared form.

The void sat down, huddled up in a blanket, to watch a tv show with its partners. It had to stop watching after a bit, but enjoyed spending time with those close to it anyway.

A wolf went to a psychologist appointment and gratefully drank the hot chocolate they were offered in the waiting room.

A shapeshifting being of pure darkness spoke publicly about trans rights in front of politicians and then went to the pride festival he helped fight to keep alive.

A dragon went to school so the others sharing his human body could have a break.

A manifestation of the fear of madness itself sat in the food court at the mall eating mochi and drinking tea while waiting for its friends to get back from shopping.

A witch drew a picture of his cardinal bird and shared the work he was so proud of with his friends.

A cockatoo borrowed the next book in his favourite series from the school library and almost couldn't wait the whole day to go home and read it.

An alien went camping and watched the birds outside and the way the wind made waves and patterns on the water.

A fallen angel went shopping for sunglasses to shield his eyes from how bright the sun was.

A harpy went shopping for new plants to look after. He named a few because he loved them so much, and sent pictures to all of his friends.

An anthropomorphic hedgehog traded Pokemon cards with his peers at school. He was happy with his collection.

You may not see us, and you may feel alone, but you are not. We are just hidden. We are in more places than you'd think, and in the places you'd least expect. We are complex, we are valued, and we are here.

[hellsitegenetics]

Blast the Book of Genesis, Chapter 1 from the Bible so we can finally know what was the first creature God created.

[1:1] In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth,

[1:2] the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.

[1:3] Then God said, "Let there be light"; and there was light.

[1:4] And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness.

[1:5] God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.

[1:6] And God said, "Let there be a dome in the midst of the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters."

[1:7] So God made the dome and separated the waters that were under the dome from the waters that were above the dome. And it was so.

[1:8] God called the dome Sky. And there was evening and there was morning, the second day.

[1:9] And God said, "Let the waters under the sky be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear." And it was so.

[1:10] God called the dry land Earth, and the waters that were gathered together he called Seas. And God saw that it was good.

[1:11] Then God said, "Let the earth put forth vegetation: plants yielding seed, and fruit trees of every kind on earth that bear fruit with the seed in it." And it was so.

[1:12] The earth brought forth vegetation: plants yielding seed of every kind, and trees of every kind bearing fruit with the seed in it. And God saw that it was good.

[1:13] And there was evening and there was morning, the third day.

[1:14] And God said, "Let there be lights in the dome of the sky to separate the day from the night; and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and years,

[1:15] and let them be lights in the dome of the sky to give light upon the earth." And it was so.

[1:16] God made the two great lights - the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night - and the stars.

[1:17] God set them in the dome of the sky to give light upon the earth,

[1:18] to rule over the day and over the night, and to separate the light from the darkness. And God saw that it was good.

[1:19] And there was evening and there was morning, the fourth day.

[1:20] And God said, "Let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the dome of the sky."

[1:21] So God created the great sea monsters and every living creature that moves, of every kind, with which the waters swarm, and every winged bird of every kind. And God saw that it was good.

[1:22] God blessed them, saying, "Be fruitful and multiply and fill the waters in the seas, and let birds multiply on the earth."

[1:23] And there was evening and there was morning, the fifth day.

[1:24] And God said, "Let the earth bring forth living creatures of every kind: cattle and creeping things and wild animals of the earth of every kind." And it was so.

[1:25] God made the wild animals of the earth of every kind, and the cattle of every kind, and everything that creeps upon the ground of every kind. And God saw that it was good.

[1:26] Then God said, "Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth."

[1:27] So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.

[1:28] God blessed them, and God said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth."

[1:29] God said, "See, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit; you shall have them for food.

[1:30] And to every beast of the earth, and to every bird of the air, and to everything that creeps on the earth, everything that has the breath of life, I have given every green plant for food." And it was so.

[1:31] God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day.

String identified:

[1:1] t gg G cat t a a t at,

[1:2] t at a a a a c t ac t , a G t t ac t at.

[1:3] T G a, "t t gt"; a t a gt.

[1:4] A G a tat t gt a g; a G aat t gt t a.

[1:5] G ca t gt a, a t a ca gt. A t a g a t a g, t t a.

[1:6] A G a, "t t a t t t at, a t t aat t at t at."

[1:7] G a t a aat t at tat t t at tat a t . A t a .

[1:8] G ca t . A t a g a t a g, t c a.

[1:9] A G a, "t t at t gat tgt t ac, a t t a aa." A t a .

[1:10] G ca t a at, a t at tat gat tgt ca a. A G a tat t a g.

[1:11] T G a, "t t at t t gtat: at g , a t t at tat a t t t t." A t a .

[1:12] T at gt t gtat: at g , a t ag t t t t. A G a tat t a g.

[1:13] A t a g a t a g, t t a.

[1:14] A G a, "t t gt t t t aat t a t gt; a t t g a a a a a a,

[1:15] a t t gt t t t g gt t at." A t a .

[1:16] G a t t gat gt - t gat gt t t a a t gt t t gt - a t ta.

[1:17] G t t t t t g gt t at,

[1:18] t t a a t gt, a t aat t gt t a. A G a tat t a g.

[1:19] A t a g a t a g, t t a.

[1:20] A G a, "t t at g t a g cat, a t a t at ac t t ."

[1:21] G cat t gat a t a g cat tat , , t c t at a, a g . A G a tat t a g.

[1:22] G t, ag, " t a t a t at t a, a t t t at."

[1:23] A t a g a t a g, t t a.

[1:24] A G a, "t t at g t g cat : catt a cg tg a aa t at ." A t a .

[1:25] G a t aa t at , a t catt , a tg tat c t g . A G a tat t a g.

[1:26] T G a, "t a a ag, accg t ; a t t a t t a, a t t a, a t catt, a a t aa t at, a cg tg tat c t at."

[1:27] G cat a ag, t ag G cat t; a a a cat t.

[1:28] G t, a G a t t, " t a t, a t at a t; a a t t a a t t a a g tg tat t at."

[1:29] G a, ", a g at g tat t ac a t at, a t t t t; a a t .

[1:30] A t at t at, a t t a, a t tg tat c t at, tg tat a t at , a g g at ." A t a .

[1:31] G a tg tat a a, a , t a g. A t a g a t a g, t t a.

Closest match: Naumovozyma dairenensis CBS 421 chromosome 11, complete genome Common name: Budding yeast

(I could not find an image of this organism, so here is an image of Naumovozyma castellii instead.)

[silent-stories]

𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: lying in bed with jj, you see the bruises on his stomach.

"You know that you snore?" You ask the boy lying in your bed, next to you, one arm under the pillow and the other thrown lazily around your waist.

That morning, it's hot in your room, but it's not the unbearable hot of the days that makes you want to rip off your skin and find a place with free air conditioning, but the heat that makes you want to stay in bed late before having a cold coffee and go for a walk by the sea with your favorite person.

The sun's rays filter through the open window and in the distance you can hear the ocean waves crashing against the reef.

A soft chuckle escapes JJ's parted lips as a pair of ocean-colored eyes meet yours. "Good morning to you too." His voice is husky but his tone is clearly amused, his hair messy.

It is indeed, a good day, when you wake up in your bed with him next to you but that would be too cheesy to say so early in the morning.

You can't help but smile and before you know it he has you pushed against him and his lips are on yours.

He always tastes like weed, alcohol and the sea.

As he wrap his arm around your waist, the sheet slides off his body, revealing his bare chest and your gaze falls on the bruises on his rib cage, like it did the night before. This time, however, you can't help but observe the dark blue and purple marks on his skin for more than a few seconds.

He looks at you for a moment after breaking the kiss, noticing what caught your attention and with a huff, he drops onto the bed next to you. The matress springs make a slight creak.

"Don't." He says.

"What?"

"Don't look at me like that. I'm fine." His eyes are fixed on the ceiling.

You slowly reach out, your fingertips grazing his stomach, delicately tracing the soft outlines of the bruises there.

"I fell, I-"

"Yeah. I know" You want to be mad because he persists in not opening up to you but the look into his eyes lost in the void stops you every time.

You both know you're lying and you both know the other is doing the same.

"You know you can stay here right? Whenever you want."

Your tone is soft as you ask that, turning towards him, resting your elbow on the mattress and settling your head on your hand, looking at his profile: the shape of his lips, the blue of his eyes in the sunlight streaming through the window, a few strands of blonde hair falling on his forehead.

"If... you have any kind of problem, you're welcome here. Any time of the day or night, Jay. You know that, right?"

You only realize you're still tracing imaginary patterns on his skin when you feel his fingers meet yours, his hand on his stomach to find yours and lace your fingers together.

When he finally turns his head towards you, there's a slight smile on his lips and it's not his usual sarcastic smirk or the grin he shows to John B when he is talking about Sarah or when he manages to escape from a cop. It's softer, more sincere.

"I know."

You stare into his clear eyes for a moment and decide to believe him.

You sigh, “okay.”

You don't know how much your offer means to him, you don't know that every other girl he's laid in bed with in the past never cared about a busted lip or a scratch on an arm unless it was ruining his pretty face.

You don't know that if he had been any other girl that morning he wouldn't have stayed in your bed but would have left before the sun even rose.

With you it was different. You cared. And for the first time, he cared too.

Your room wasn't like his house or even like the chateau. It was becoming his favorite place so quickly that it almost amazed him.

And you were becoming his favorite person, but that didn't surprise him that much.

It was getting impossible not to love the sound of your laughter and the way you could reassure him with a simple touch.

"Thank you." He whispers.

You smile and reach out to brush the blonde hair out of his eyes.

His hand was still holding yours.

[crguang]

lost virgins with broken wings that will regrow

You’re an ordinary person with a void in your chest. Black Swan means to fill it.

smut, afab!reader, virgin!reader, sorta stalker!black swan (im just going with canon here…) so mention of voyeurism, oral sex on both parts, fingering, overstimulation, switch!r and swan, 9.3k words and 6k of it is just smut……………

A/N: um…… i just think she’s neat.

black swan: they are such a loser, weirdo, freak, social outcast i have GOT to fuck them

It’s under low, pulsing lights and seated between intoxicated bodies, sensual music in your ears and a half-empty drink in hand, that you feel the most alone. The irony burns your throat not unlike the alcohol you’re sluggishly sipping every five minutes as you take in the sea of strangers on the dance floor of the club rhythmically moving with the beat on the speakers.

Beside you at the bar, a couple converses lowly to themselves, staring into each other’s eyes and laughing quietly like there doesn’t exist a world beyond their intimacy. To your right, friends argue over who will be the designated driver tonight and draw from actual straws provided by one of the bartenders. The unlucky one pouts and the rest cheer before enthusiastically ordering colorful cocktails from a pink haired bartender. The bass reverberates through you, inciting you to join the sweaty bodies losing themselves in the music, but the throb of your head is louder. You feel fatigue at the corner of your eyes while you swirl the clear liquid in your glass and watch its hypnotizing movement, briefly lost in it. You tune out the drunk laughter and shameless flirting happening around you and feel the familiar sensation of your heart constricting in your chest. No one is interested in your sulking, people come and go in the seats beside you, oblivious to your inner struggle. When the feeling spreads to your lungs, forcing you to breathe in the smell of alcohol and sweat, you turn on the stool to search for your friend in the crowd. You catch a glimpse of her red hair as she sways against a tall woman with dark coily hair; she seems to be having fun, occasionally giggling when the woman bends to whisper in her ear, so you sigh and rest an arm on the bar. It was an unspoken rule that if you went clubbing together, you would either leave together or make sure the other would be sober enough to walk out the door with a stranger. You’ll give her another half hour, maybe, before ruining her night by telling her you want to go home.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself,” a smooth, sultry voice sounds near you.

You smell her before you see her; strong traces of resins and dried fruit, like incense sticks burning through the air, easily overwhelm the different odors assaulting your nose from the variety of people around. The pleasant fragrance makes you pivot in your seat. A woman sits on the stool to your left and drums her gloved fingers on the counter thoughtfully, keen gaze already on you and a small, easy smile on her lips. They look bare in the low lighting, though you can discern a soft sheen on them that suggests she must have applied lipgloss not too long ago. Her thick, pale hair frames her cheeks and disappears down her back in two wavy parts that would undoubtedly reach the back of her thighs were she to stand upright. The purple veil over her head matches the color of her dress— you think it’s a dress, maybe a tight strapless top?— and the sort of stained glass accessory between her collarbones that connects her top to the lacy piece around her neck. Your first thought is that she looks out of place amongst the flimsy, provocative clothing everyone is flaunting. Your second is that she’s gorgeous, the kind you can’t help but stare at like a fool. Which you are currently doing. Her head tilts in question and you blink, remembering the words she’s spoken to you a moment earlier.

You suddenly feel shy under her gaze as you try to come up with a reply.

“I’m not,” you say, mentally cringing at your lack of tact. Your honesty seems to amuse her though, sunset eyes glimmering with mirth.

“Not your kind of scene, I presume?” She has to lean closer for you to hear each other over the music and you meet her halfway.

You shrug dismissively, not wanting to admit that being surrounded by people only made you feel terribly lonely. It would ruin the conversation, you’re not that socially inept for you to know that. “Not really, no. The drinks are nice, though.”

You can barely hear her hum as she replies, “And yet, here you are. What makes you suffer through such an unpleasant experience?”

You find her way of speaking a little odd. Evidently, she’s not from around here. You turn around to face the dance floor and her eyes follow the direction you point your chin towards.

“I’m here with her,” you gesture to the redhead cheekily grinding against the same woman from before. The sight is a little funny, despite your mood you’re glad that she’s enjoying herself.

“I see. A friend of yours?”

You nod and steal a glance at the woman beside you. Her posture is impeccably straight, chin resting in the palm of her hand while she leans an elbow on the counter, and she looks at you with a sense of familiarity that you can’t reciprocate. You’ve never met her before, you would have remembered. You’re not the type to be embarrassed by every little thing but her attentive stare makes you feel exposed, as if you’re standing in front of her with your flesh turned inside out and she could see the gross parts of you usually hidden from sight. You want to evade her gaze, if only to compose yourself, but you can’t bring yourself to. She pulls you in effortlessly with only a look and you lean towards her when she speaks up again.

“I realize I haven’t asked for your name.”

You tell her your name, having to speak a little louder to be heard over the music. She repeats it, trying the feel of it on her tongue, then her eyelids lower in appreciation, a knowing smile on her face.

You ask for hers in return and she offers a gentle hand after answering you. “I am Black Swan.”

Black Swan. An odd name, like her odd behavior and turns of phrases. She stands out like a sore thumb and doesn’t seem to care enough to try to blend in. Her politeness is endearing, so you grasp her hand to shake it half-jokingly. Her fingertips linger on your skin when you slowly pull away.

“What about you? Are you here alone?” You don’t see anyone else acknowledging her presence around you. Black Swan confirms your suspicions with a nod. “Ah. A party girl, then.”

Her quiet laugh is beautiful, low and velvety. It makes you suppress a smile. The music blasting through the speakers is now much more energetic and worsens your headache.

“What makes you say that?”

You shrug. “You don’t seem from here but you also look totally at ease. I thought maybe you were either the sort to adapt quickly or to love this kind of scene.”

Black Swan hums, a forefinger tracing shapes on the surface of the bar. “I suppose that assumption is not entirely incorrect. I am not a local, no.”

“Where are you from?”

“That is… a complicated question to answer.”

You raise a curious eyebrow and she pushes some hair out of her face with a hand before leaning into you, closer to your ear. You pause as her soothing scent fills your nose and you feel her breath on your cheek, words meant only for you.

“Let’s talk somewhere quieter, if you wish. We can continue our conversation without having to yell to be heard.”

You consider her offer, hesitant. Your stomach tightens at her proximity and you would be lying if you said you didn’t want to keep talking to her. Her subtle charms lure you in and lower your defenses, and that is both refreshing and concerning. Black Swan feels like the kind of person you only meet once, you want to make the most of it. Not to mention that it would be stupid to deny how attractive she is. You look back at your friend in the middle of the dance floor, suddenly envious of how easy it is for her to be comfortable among the crowd. She hasn’t spared you a glance since she was approached by her dancing partner and while that doesn’t really bother you, part of you wants to prove that you’re also able to make immediate connections with strangers, that you’re not an antisocial freak who only keeps to themself.

“Okay,” you accept and look away at the pleased glint that shines in Black Swan’s eyes. “I have to warn my friend, it’ll take a second.”

You stand from the bar stool and clumsily make your way to the middle of the room, narrowly avoiding sweating limbs and their intoxicated owners. You hate the way anxiety buzzes uncomfortably in your guts as you’re closely surrounded by so many people. You make it to where your friend is, breathing heavier from the stress, and tap her shoulder to get her attention. She wears a grin as she sees you and jumps a couple times in excitement, grabbing your shoulders.

“You wanna dance?!”

“I’m leaving with someone,” you say loudly, pointing to the bar. Her eyes squint, looking in the same direction. She stands on her tiptoes to see over the heads of some clubgoers but doesn’t seem to find who you’re referring to. “Are you gonna be okay?”

She looks back at you and smiles with a quick nod. You don’t think she’s drunk, maybe just a little tipsy, because her eyes are clear and she hasn’t pulled you into an intricate dance only she knows the steps to yet.

“Have fun! Don’t worry about me! Go get laid!”

You make a face, embarrassed by the idea. She only laughs loudly and turns back to the woman she’s been with all night. You make your way back to the bar as fast as you can, eager to be away from the crowd and deafening music. Black Swan waits for you near the end of the counter and gently takes your hand in hers when you get close enough. Her gloved fingers delicately curl around your hand, an unexpectedly comforting sensation. She expertly navigates through the sea of bodies, tugging you along with a firm hand until you’re both out of the club and standing under the moonlight.

From outside, the music has dulled to a faint pulsing and you feel like you can finally breathe properly. You briefly close your eyes to take in a slow breath, inhaling the crisp summer breeze and exhaling softly through your nose. Black Swan is still holding your hand as you do, she turns to face you and observes the way your shoulders relax a little more with each calming breath. Your eyes blink open. You feel a bit sheepish under her stare but her small smile assures you that she doesn’t think any ill of you. Your hand slips from her gasp so you can wring them together.

“Do you want to walk as we talk? My place isn’t too far from here,” you realize how that sounds and falter, glancing away. “Not that we have to go.”

“I would enjoy that. Lead the way.”

You scratch your temple awkwardly. There’s a silent pause as you start to walk through the empty streets and closed businesses, almost close enough that your fingers brush with every step. You take your time, your pace measured to bask in the night air and the way the light winds blow Black Swan’s perfume towards your face. The quiet is a reprieve for your throbbing skull, you feel your headache shift to a dull pulse with every passing minute. You look up at the round moon in the sky, then remember your question from earlier, the one she had trouble answering. You start to cross a wooden bridge over a wide canal and clear your throat.

“You didn’t tell me where you were from, earlier,” you say, slowing down slightly to look at the moonlight reflecting off the still water.

“Ah, that’s right.” Black Swan trails her fingers over the railing before coming to a halt. She follows your gaze on the water and leans her forearms on the railing, seemingly lost in thought. You turn the other way, your back against the wooden bars, waiting for her to sift through her thoughts. Finally, her head turns to look at you and she asks, “Are you familiar with Memokeepers?”

You take a second to remember where you’ve heard that word before. “Memokeepers… from the Garden of Recollection, right? Beings who preserve humanity’s memories for the Remembrance.”

“Yes.” She doesn’t add anything else, only rests her cheek in the palm of her hand and gazes at you like she’s able to see past all your barriers and it only fuels her interest in you.

“…Are you saying you’re…?

“I am.”

“Oh,” you ponder the admission for a short moment. That explains why she stands out from the crowd. You think you remember that Memokeepers choose who to be seen by; you must have looked like a crazy person if no one else could see her at the bar. “I don’t think I have any memories worth preserving to attract the attention of a Memokeeper.”

“Mmm… We seek to protect humanity against the irreversibility of time. I, for one, believe there is nothing more human than loneliness, wouldn’t you agree?”

The smile that stretches her lips is a soft one, far gentler than you think you deserve. You look away from her to observe the discoloration of the wood beneath your feet. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised she knows about that considering what she is, but you feel slightly irked at the idea of somebody intruding on your mind without your knowledge or consent. Your thoughts and experiences are yours to keep, no matter what any Aeon may believe.

“I don’t appreciate you looking inside my head.”

Black Swan shakes her head. “I haven’t. I can see it in your eyes.”

“You’re just that astute, huh?”

“Or you don’t hide it as well as you think you do.”

You hum. You can feel the warmth of her stare against your face and when you meet her eyes, you feel small. It’s hard to imagine all the things she has witnessed and lived through, you are nothing compared to her time among mortals. You don’t understand why she’s here with you, who is painfully ordinary and inexperienced in most matters of life.

“I still don’t think I have anything unique to offer to the Remembrance. You’re wasting your time.”

“Collecting every aspect of life includes the mundane, not every memory worth preserving is extraordinary. Besides, I don’t believe you to be ordinary.”

“That’s a bold, but misguided, assumption.”

Black Swan chuckles lowly, straightening up to face you better. She stands slightly shorter than you, even with her heeled boots. A step brings her closer to your body, a hand loosely holding onto the railing.

“I have plenty of those,” she drawls, a little quieter, “and I don’t need to look into your memories to know that they are true.”

“You got all of this from one conversation? I doubt it.”

“Then let me presume something else.”

Your breath hitches as her fingers delicately cup your jaw like it could break under her touch. You’re unable to tear your gaze from hers and you want to shrink faced with the bright sunset colors of her eyes, there’s a knowing sheen in their depths that makes you feel vulnerable in a way you refuse to be with anyone. Her thumb moves across your skin, the gesture almost tender.

“There is an ache in you,” she says, eyelids lowering to watch the movement of her thumb near the corner of your mouth, “a profound desire that creates an immeasurable crater inside of you. You feel that this void makes you fundamentally different from your peers, so you hide behind tall walls and attempt to ignore the cries of your heart.”

Your lips part but the words get stuck in your throat. Black Swan’s smile is without malice and you feel emotion swirl in your gut, tightening the muscles and quickening your breath. A chill passes through you, raising the hair on your arms, and you don’t know if it’s from the temperature or her hold on your jaw. The smooth fabric of her glove rubs against your skin in soothing motions, the smell of incense fills your nose from her proximity, you feel bare in front of her, exposed to her judgment— it’s all too much. You take several steps back to catch your breath and she lets you go somewhat reluctantly, observing your struggle as another breath of wind makes you shiver. The temperature has dropped since you left the nightclub; though you know nights can get chilly, you thought you would be going home in your friend’s car, the same way you got there, and wouldn’t need to bring a jacket.

You rub your arms, hesitantly glancing at Black Swan. “What do you want from me?”

“Let’s get you home, shall we?” She kindly replies instead, extending a hand. “You’re freezing.”

You look at her outstretched palm with slight suspicion. She hasn’t done anything to make you believe that she’s ill-intentioned, quite the opposite, but you’re used to being careful around others. Still, she isn’t wrong. There is a gaping hole in the middle of you and it makes you incapable of letting anyone past the walls you’ve built for yourself, afraid that it would consume whoever ventured too close. You long for something you can’t bear to think about anymore, but Black Swan is… different. Somehow, she sees you for everything you are, and while that thought is uncomfortable at first, it soon develops into something deeper, desperate. You don’t know how it feels to be known. Black Swan materializes behind your defenses and gazes at you with genuine interest. Against your own practiced sense of self-preservation, you let her.

Her hand is warm as you lead the rest of the way to your apartment. A shiver runs through you occasionally and her free hand trails up your arm after each one to warm you. You try to ignore the pulsing of your heartbeat in your ears and the yearning in your gut growing with every casual touch on your skin. You don’t speak much while you walk. It doesn’t take too long to reach your apartment, maybe around twenty minutes or so. You fiddle with the keys when you stand on the doorstep of the building. The door opens with a soft click and you keep it ajar with one hand, turning to face Black Swan.

“Do you want to…”

“Yes.”

She enters the building after you, following you up the stairs to the first floor where you live. Her presence makes you a little anxious since not many people have been inside your living space and you thank the Aeons that you’re a fairly clean person before opening the door and stepping inside. There’s a gust of wind as you walk in and you realize you must have left a window open because the place is colder than usual. You discard your shoes near the entrance to slip into indoor slides, toss your keys into the bowl on the small table and scratch your temple, wondering what you’re meant to do next. You don’t play host often, so for a moment you simply stand in your living room as Black Swan looks around, trailing her fingers on framed pictures and leather chairs. You suddenly feel self-conscious about your taste in interior design but she only looks at you with a smile once she’s seen everything she needs to see.

“Uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, gesturing towards the kitchen. “I have wine.”

Black Swan shakes her head. “I don’t feel thirst— not that kind anyway. You’re sweet to offer.”

You don’t ask her what she means by that, thinking it might be Memokeeper related.

“You should change into something more comfortable,” she adds. “I can see you shuddering.”

It’s not a bad idea. You nod, adjusting the room’s thermostat to a higher temperature and feeling her eyes on you all the while before disappearing into a hallway. Your bedroom is warmer than the rest of the apartment. You let out a breath as you rummage through your drawers for casual clothes, hesitating between sweat shorts and sweatpants. You’re already warming up a little, so you pick the former. You change into a t-shirt and step in front of the mirror to check that you don’t look as tired as you feel. You rub the fatigue out of your eyes then pinch your skin to make you seem more awake. You fiddle with your hair a little until it looks good enough. Thinking of Black Swan in your living room causes your stomach to flutter uncharacteristically. It’s a different kind of nervousness from the one you’re familiar with, anticipation lingers in your belly and you don’t even know what it’s for.

There’s a soft knock at your door that has you pivoting towards the sound in surprise.

“Come in.”

The hinges creak as it opens and Black Swan slips her head through the opening, eyes briefly running down your figure.

“Is everything alright?” You ask.

“Of course. I wanted to check in on you.”

“Oh.”

Her attention catches you off guard still. She walks further into the room, taking note of the various tapestries and images on your bedroom walls, and you sit on the bed as you watch her. Her hands trail on the desk of your vanity, on your low dresser’s wooden surface, around the bottles of perfume you keep on it. She seems entirely at ease in your room like it was her own, her composure not faltering for a moment. Her eyes stop on a polaroid of you and the same redhead you went out with tonight that is stuck to the full length mirror on the door of your closet. She observes it for a while, a finger tracing the picture’s edges.

“When was this?” She addresses you without turning around, immersed in the sight of you doubled over with laughter while your friend stands to the side with icing all over her face, a pout on her lips. A fingertip touches your frozen form. You think maybe she can sense the emotions through the captured memory.

“About two years ago, when we were still rooming together. We used to prank each other when the other least expected it.”

“You seem… lighter, less burdened than you are now.”

She’s right, once again. It feels as though there’s nothing you can keep hidden from her, like she’s already learned you from the inside. She said she hasn’t been inside your mind but you’re not sure if you’re inclined to believe her words. How else can she accurately perceive who you are? Something takes over the uneasiness you would normally feel at being so acutely exposed to another’s gaze, something you recognize and have desperately been trying to ignore for years. The profound yearning for closeness; for fingertips in your hair, for low confessions into the night, for a synergy that can only exist between two beings completely attuned to each other— it swallows you whole and leaves you writhing in its belly. Your fingers sink into the sheets as they curl to grab a fistful of them. You look away from Black Swan to stare at a point on the other side of the room, willing your treacherous heart to be steady.

You don’t notice Black Swan watching you until she steps into your peripheral vision. She walks around your bed, heels muted on the carpet, and takes a seat beside you. Her fingertips brush your fist as her head tilts, sunset eyes dimmed. You just now realize that she doesn’t have any pupils.

“Poor thing,” her voice lowers to a sultry tone, a hand tenderly resting on your cheek, “you’re scared, aren’t you? These emotions inside of you, itching to leave the confines of your heart…” She watches your lips part when you exhale softly through your mouth. Her fingertips trace your jawline before tilting your chin up. “I can sate this hunger, if you wish.”

You swallow, staring into her appreciative gaze. “Why?”

“Why?” She repeats almost to herself. Her thumb slides up your chin to your bottom lip and follows its curve. “I’m afraid that eludes me. There is something unattainable about you, a part of you that is locked away, perhaps. I feel… inexplicably drawn to it.”

Black Swan slowly leans closer as if gaging your reaction and giving you time to react should you want to push her away. You can almost feel her breath on your lips, then she pauses to look up into your eyes, searching for an answer to an unspoken question. She seems to find what she’s looking for and when you think she’s going to kiss you, a persistent fluttering in your lower belly, her head dips to the side and her lips press against the skin of your neck. You tense as her fingers brush your curled ones on the bed, moving over your knuckles to your wrist, then up your forearm in a deliberately gentle touch. You feel her open mouth trail down your neck. Her hand leaves your face to settle on your bare knee. You let out a shuddering breath, frozen in place.

“Your pulse is racing,” she murmurs into your skin, pressing a firm kiss to your pulse point, “I can feel it.”

“What… are you doing?”

“Enjoying you.”

The hand on your knee slides higher, fingertips brushing the fabric of your shorts on your thigh. The other coaxes your muscles to relax with soft touches up and down your arm. You feel overwhelmed by her closeness and you’re unable to do anything but breathe out at the sensation of her slow kisses up your neck and to your jaw. A shiver runs down your spine and she hums in delight. The tip of her tongue tentatively darts out to lick a stripe up your jawline to your ear, causing you to inhale sharply through your mouth and drawing an amused chuckle out of her.

Black Swan pulls away slightly to take in your facial features as her hands sneak under your shirt to hold onto your waist, squeezing once. Your lashes flutter with every blink, the rise and fall of your chest quickening under her seductive touch.

“How adorable,” she mutters with a lustful sunrise in her eyes. Her hands travel over the expanse of your stomach, one of them separating from the other to trail up your back. She rubs the skin over your ribs. “I’ve barely touched you and here you are… so breathless for me.”

A meek sound escapes you at her forwardness and an appreciative gleam brightens her gaze. With her insisting hands on you and her scent all around, you feel entirely at her mercy. When she leans closer for her teeth to graze your neck, your head tilts to allow her better access. Her thumbs rub circles on your waist, enjoying its pliable curves. Your hand sinks into her long hair, messily tangling around the soft locks, and you bite your bottom lip at the low hum that follows. Black Swan finds a sensitive spot on your neck, sucks on the tender skin and your fingers grip her hair tighter at the pleasant sensation of her mouth on you. You relax against her like butter left in the sun. You can’t help the sharp exhales that leave you and with each one, her fingers dig into your sides almost possessively.

Her tongue swipes over the bruising spot at the base of your neck, soothing the dull pain caused by her teeth and earning a quiet, breathy noise from you. Black Swan smiles into your skin.

“So responsive, aren’t you?” Her voice is a sultry purr. Her touches grow bolder, lifting your shirt to pull it above your head in one smooth motion. She discards it somewhere on the bed and leans to gently bite down on your shoulder.

“Oh!”

Her palms roam over your torso, nails brushing the band of your bra. You fleetingly wish she would take off her long gloves so that you could feel her without any barriers and she seems to be thinking the same; a moment later she takes her hands from you to pull the garment off her forearms. You don’t see where they end up, nor do you care, because the feeling of her soft, unscarred palms sliding over the plane of your stomach steals your breath away. They reach your chest, squeezing your breasts over your bra as her wet kisses travel to your collarbones. Her fingertips slip under your bra, grazing your hardening nipples, and something resembling a quiet whimper escapes you.

“I wonder… How long has it been since you’ve been touched like this, mm?”

“I’ve never…”

Her lips pause near your throat. You feel her breath on your skin with every exhale.

“Is that right?”

You nod hesitantly, apprehending her response.

Black Swan pulls her mouth away from you, fingers expertly unclasping your bra to get it out of the way, and firmly pushes you further into the bed. Her gaze is hungry as she straddles your thighs and looms over you, a palm over your breast.

“No one has ever held you so close… had their hands on you like this?…”

“No.”

A possessive glint flashes in her eyes. She squeezes the flesh of your breast, the friction of your nipple brushing deliciously against her palm has you gasping out at the same time Black Swan eagerly claims your mouth. Her tongue pushes past your lips to swirl around yours and she readily swallows the soft moan you let out. You hold onto her hips while she presses breathy kiss after breathy kiss on your lips. You feel a mix of her saliva and yours at the corner of your mouth and her tongue licks it off before meeting your own once more, leaving you breathless. Two fingers pinch your erect nipple, coaxing more needy sounds from you and a low, appreciative moan on her part.

Her thumbs roll your nipples in tight circles, occasionally twisting this way and that to draw a whimper out of you, and she reluctantly separates from your lips to allow you to catch your breath. Her own chest heaves as she looks down at you, at your bruised lips and hard nipples under the pads of her fingers, arousal pooling in her belly. She is the only one privy to the sharp gasps you make, to your soft moans and quiet whimpers. Black Swan fills the void inside of you with her lustful and unrelenting touches, claiming you with her hot mouth and nimble hands. She leaves an imprint on your body with every kiss to your skin, every graze of her teeth or nails across your chest. You feel your arousal ruin your underwear, clit aching to be touched. You bring Black Swan’s mouth to yours with a hand around her neck, lips locking in desperate, messy kisses. Her hums of pleasure only turn you on more and you have to squeeze your thighs together to try and relieve the pressure between your legs.

A thin string of saliva connects your lips as she pulls away to press the flat of her tongue over your nipple. The tip teases your sensitive bud before she takes it into her mouth and sucks, hard and fast. She fondles the other breast, twisting your nipple between two warm fingers, and you can’t help a choked moan at the feeling. Pleasure courses through you in short, intense jolts down your spine, and your cunt throbs in your panties, begging for her attention.

“B-Black Swan,” you breathe out, biting your lip when she hums in satisfaction around your nipple. Her teeth graze the bud teasingly but she doesn’t bite, instead she opts for long suckles and the occasional flicks of her tongue. “Please…”

Her mouth leaves your chest and stretches into a smug smile, desire apparent in the way she gazes at the faint marks she’s left on your skin.

“What are you pleading for, darling?”

You forego timidity to focus on the burning need in your belly. Your fingers curl around her wrist and guide her hand down your stomach, over the band of your shorts. Her eyes narrow though the smile doesn’t leave her face as she lets you slip her fingers into your shorts. Her middle finger sinks between your outer lips over your panties and feels your slick through the thin fabric. You hold onto her wrist to keep her hand over your covered sex, sighing in relief.

“How rude of me,” she says lightly, finger running up and down your slit, “to neglect you like this. I was caught up in my own desire, it seems.”

Black Swan settles between your thighs. Her lips leisurely trail wet kisses down the curve of your stomach and her pussy flutters in response to the whimper that comes out of your mouth. She’s so wet already and all she’s done is kiss you. Her gaze is intense as she looks up at your brows furrowed in anticipation of her tongue on your cunt. How stunningly helpless you look under her ministrations. So sensitive, so responsive… she wants to ruin you, devour you until your thighs tremble pressed to her ears and your throat is sore from crying out her name. It sounds beautiful in your voice, even more so with unashamed desire lacing your words.

Black Swan discards your shorts without ceremony, tossing them on the floor next to the bed. Her tongue swipes over her lips at the sight of your wet panties. Her fingertips trace the edge of the material, hooking under it to watch the sticky string that connects it to your cunt as she pulls it away from you. Part of her wants to take her time ravishing you, she’s waiting this long, after all, but she also desperately wants to indulge her desires. How can she resist when you’re panting under her this way, a hand around your own breast and gazing down at her figure between your thighs?

Her hands fondle the flesh of your inner thighs, lost in the sight of your glistening cunt. Arousal slides down your pussy in slow drops, the tip of your pretty, aching clit poking out from between your lips. She almost wants to curse.

“You have no idea how long I’ve craved to have you bare before me like this,” she purrs, two fingers spreading your lips to fully appreciate your cunt, “how much I’ve wanted you.”

You exhale shakily, brows twisting for a second. “We just met…”

“Officially, perhaps.” Black Swan presses a kiss on your wet folds, tongue licking a stripe up your slit and collecting your slick. You moan, eyes squeezing shut. The taste of you makes her greedy and she has to contain herself not to lick you silly. “I’ve had my eye on you for quite a while…”

Your brain barely registers the words. Your thighs threaten to close in around her head with every flick of her tongue against your needy cunt. You pinch a nipple between your fingers as Black Swan places wet, open-mouthed kisses on your pussy and you almost forget to reply to her statement.

“What— What do you mean?” You ask breathily, hips jerking forward further into her mouth.

She laughs softly at your confused tone. Her fingers keep your lips spread wide to allow the flat of her tongue to collect more of your arousal. She feels your thighs on her ears and makes no move to stop you from squeezing them together.

“What do you think? Memokeepers are rarely eager to show themselves, and this pull I feel towards you… I had to understand it.”

You don’t know what to say. She’s admitting to stalking you while in between your thighs, tongue greedily swirling around your slick folds. She feels so good that you can’t focus on anything but the way she spreads her saliva on your pussy and swallows your arousal. You vaguely recall that this is the thirst she meant earlier, this bottomless need for more of your taste coating her lips and chin as the tip of her nose bumps against your throbbing clit.

You have trouble forming full sentences in your mind when she sucks your folds into her mouth and you don’t even care about the invasion of your privacy.

“You…” A finger teases your entrance and you whine, momentarily forgetting what you meant to say. “You’ve been following me.”

“Mmm…” Black Swan tentatively pushes the tip of her index finger into your cunt and swallows a moan as it effortlessly sinks inside you. “I needed to know who you were, what makes you tick, your unspoken desires. And after observing you for so long, committing your every heavy sigh to my memory, I could not resist meeting you myself— to touch you with my own hands and hear my name fall from your lips the way curses escape you on the brink of pleasure.”

You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle a moan, the tip of her finger brushing against a sensitive spot inside you. Her pace is steady, careful not to overwhelm you too fast or too soon, and it takes you two full minutes to understand what she’s implying. She takes your clit between her lips and sucks, long and hard.

“F-Fuck,” you whine, hips jerking forward in need. You feel your orgasm build in your lower belly and grip a fistful of the sheets under you, grinding your pussy against Black Swan’s experienced tongue. “You’ve— You’ve watched me… watched me touch myself?”

A throaty chuckle leaves her like she’s amused by how hard you’re trying to follow her sentences. She pulls away from your puffy clit for only a moment, looking up at you with unbridled desire. She drinks in the quiver of your bottom lip and the creases around your eyes, your parted lips and your hand palming the flesh of your breast. You are as beautiful under her as she imagined you to be when she would take a look around your empty bedroom, piecing together the puzzle of you with the help of your possessions.

Black Swan quickens the thrusts inside you, feeling her own cunt clench inside her shorts at the sensation of your warm walls around her digit. “How could I not? The way you fall apart under your own hands… your quiet moans as you play with yourself, oh…”

She moans into your cunt and you feel yourself gush into her mouth at the thought of her gaze on you all this time, watching you pleasure yourself and having to restrain herself from touching you, quietly suffering while she ruins her underwear. You wish you could have seen her and you wonder if she squeezed her thighs together as you played with your clit or sucked in a breath as you thumbed your nipple. She’s usually so composed, to think that your bare body can bring her to the edge of her self-control makes you so wet you’re sure you’re ruining your sheets.

“I can be a very patient person. I’ve had to restrain myself all this time, to be content simply watching you.” Black Swan circles your clit with her thumb, applying pressure on the tip as her slender finger drills into you the same way you do it when you touch yourself. The pleasure is too much and has you moaning into your forearm, uselessly trying to contain the noise due to living in an apartment building. “And… I think I deserve a reward for my patience, don’t you agree, darling?”

There’s a tightness in your stomach begging to snap; the pad of her thumb presses against your clit and the jolts of pleasure that course from your cunt to the rest of your body is heavenly, you’ve never felt more desired than with Black Swan’s uneven breaths fanning over your pussy, tongue darting out to taste you in soft, sweet kitten licks. You can’t control the tremble in your thighs and the stutter of your chest, or the hand that tangles into her pale hair to pull her closer to where you ache for her. Broken, high moans fill the room along with the wet sounds of her digit inside of you and her lips around your clit. You can’t think of anything but the pleasure that suddenly crashes over you and makes you shiver. You come hard around her finger and on her tongue, thighs squeezing against her ears and fingers tightly gripping her hair, and Black Swan laps up your cum with a rumbling hum of satisfaction. She helps you ride your orgasm by slowly massaging your walls, but her mouth doesn’t leave your cunt even as your high subsides. She licks long stripes up your slit, teases the base of your sensitive clit, then attaches her lips to your gushing entrance.

“S-Swan…” you manage to utter, back arching.

Black Swan inhales sharply at the soft sigh of her name. Her hands fondle the flesh of your inner thighs and spread them wide, keeping them pinned to the mattress. Her colorful eyes have dulled, the shine of your cum on her lips alike the lipgloss she’d applied earlier tonight. Her gaze is hungry and smug at having you shake for her, at being the first to make you come, to hear the mewls spilling from your open mouth. The thin layer of sweat on your skin gives it an intoxicating glow and she can’t resist dragging two fingers between your folds to watch your slick envelop her digits.

“You are a vision,” she drawls, unhurriedly rubbing your sensitive cunt. “Beautiful and so, so responsive to my touch…”

The pad of her thumb presses against your twitching clit and your hips jerk as you whimper, helpless under her. Black Swan hums appreciatively and gives you some reprieve, hovering over you to plant a tender kiss to your jaw. Your fingers grip the back of her neck to pull her body closer and the friction of your hard nipples on the fabric of her clothes makes you exhale audibly. She uses sticky fingers to tilt your chin upwards. Your lips part almost instantly to welcome her hot, wet mouth. It’s a softer kiss than the urgent ones from before, her lips slowly slide against yours and you feel her breath in your mouth, her firm tongue swiping over your bottom lip. Your arm sneaks around her waist, pulling her body flush on yours, earning another long hum from her. Her weight on you is a delight as she leads the pace of your mouths and your heart constricts as if squeezed between loving fingers. This is intimacy, you realize; Black Swan’s thigh between your legs and her wet digits under your chin, her tongue past your lips and the warmth of her skin on yours. You feel breathless in an entirely new way.

The ache of your pussy dulls to a soft pulse, your hands run down her sides to squeeze her waist and you’re suddenly hungry for everything she has to offer. You rub circles into her pliable flesh, your touch growing insistent as you keep her pressed against you. Black Swan moans low into your mouth when your palms slide down her body to grasp her ass. Her breathing is a touch heavier against your lips and you prop up the thigh between her legs, drawing an exquisite gasp from her.

“Need you…” you mumble, fingers slipping under top to pull at the mesh of her bodysuit over her back. It slaps her skin when you let go and the needy sound that leaves her almost makes you moan. “Off.”

“Demanding…” Black Swan sits up, lavender hair cascading down her back, and grips the material of her purple top from the bottom to pull it over her head in one smooth movement.

Your pupils dilate considerably at the sight of the intricate lace of her bra. She leans forward to capture your mouth in an eager kiss. You run your hands up her stomach and fondle her heavy breasts between your palms, enjoying their plushness. Your fingers tug on the cup of her bra to free one of them and you whine in the middle of the kiss at the feel of her hard nipple under your thumb. Black Swan leans into your touch with a quiet sigh. You harshly twist her nipple for the surprised moan that escapes her. Pulling her tight bodysuit down her waist only takes a few seconds and your hands greedily take fistfuls of her breasts and squeeze once, then twice, as your mouth chases hers, her tongue wetting your lips in a sloppy, hurried kiss.

Black Swan helps you pull her clothes past her hips and takes the rest off herself, revealing the creamy skin of her plump thighs and the dark lace of her underwear. Slick clings to the fabric in a thick, sticky string when she slides it off her legs to discard it on the floor. Two of your fingers run down her cunt, grazing her engorged clit, and she lets out a breathy moan, resting her forearms on each side of your head to support her body. She’s incredibly wet, so ready for your touch between her folds. Her entrance gushes with another wave of arousal, breath heavy, as the tip of your index teases her hole. Her forehead rests on yours, the tip of your noses brushing. You nuzzle into her at the same moment you push a finger inside her throbbing pussy, tentatively thrusting into her to feel the warmth of her walls before slipping a second digit into her.

Black Swan squeezes her eyes shut with a needy moan against your lips and her cunt clenches tight around your fingers. The slight stretch of her pussy brings her considerable relief; it’s not long before her hips follow the pace of your thrusts inside her. Her breasts move with the rest of her body, baby pink nipples grazing your chest with every roll of her hips. Her breath is hot on your face and she stutters out soft gasps as you quicken your pace, drunk on the feeling of her cunt sucking in your fingers like she never wants to let you go.

“Yes—” she gasps against your mouth, “You feel so good…”

You plunge into her up to the knuckles, determined to have her gush over your hand. Your name is a half moan past her lips and her brows twist in pleasure, the filthy, wet sound of your digits drilling into her fluttering pussy filling your bedroom in an intoxicating melody. A quiver goes through her thighs. Black Swan lifts one hand from the bed to bring it between her legs and swipe her aching clit in tight circles, low oh’s and ah’s spilling from her mouth. Together, you bring her closer to the edge. You masturbate her the way you know how, the way she’s watched you do to yourself so many times, fingers curling inside her and making her see explosions of colors behind her eyelids. She’s tempted to curse, her who never does, and she feels the coil in her belly snap as white hot pleasure washes over her. Her hand stutters on her clit and she comes around your fingers with a sharp moan, squeezing them tight and forcing you to slow down your pace, her limbs trembling over you. Her orgasm is intense, she shivers from head to toe and struggles to keep herself above you, chest leaning into yours.

Black Swan barely has a moment to catch her breath as you slip out of her and rub comforting shapes into her love handles with one hand while bringing her wrist up to your face. You take her fingers into your mouth and her eyes blink open at the sensation of your tongue swirling around her digits, sucking her clean. She gazes down at you, lips parted.

“Swan…” you breathe out around her fingers, the hint of a whimper in your words. “Want you on my face.”

Black Swan applies pressure on your tongue, making you moan. “Is that right?” Her voice is low and throaty, each word carefully enunciated despite her heavy breathing.

You nod eagerly, squeezing the dip of her hip. The thought of her plush thighs around your head, trapping you between their soft flesh as she grinds her cunt on your tongue makes your head spin. You want to bury your nose in her slick folds and have her come in your mouth until she’s too sensitive to handle your ministrations. Black Swan hums, a fondness in her lidded eyes as she takes her fingers out of your mouth. They leave a wet trail on your skin when they cup your cheek.

“So eager to please,” she says softly to herself, thumb tracing the curve of your top lip. “Alright.”

Like she was ever going to say no to the needy look in your gaze; you look up at her with twinkling admiration and she feels herself pulled to you once more.

Black Swan positions herself over your face, thick thighs on each side of your head, and your arms wrap around them to pull her closer. Her pussy glistens, puffy and pink, as she gently tangles her hand in your hair and the sight is breathtaking. The short hairs on her cunt are only slightly darker than the ones on her head, they shine with her slick and entice you further into her folds. Your tongue darts out to lick a stripe up her slit, delighting in the soft hum that follows the gesture. You’ve never done this before, but you try your best to apply theory to practice, rubbing the flat of your tongue on her cunt and collecting her tangy cum. The grip on your hair pushes you closer to her wet pussy, but she’s careful not to be too harsh.

“Just like that,” her quiet, breathy moans encourage you as you suck her pulsing clit. The drawl of her words sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy. “You’re a quick learner, aren’t you?”

The taste of her fills your mouth, the smell of her arousal takes over your nose as it coats the tip of it, you can feel her all around and it makes you moan into her throbbing cunt. The vibrations reverberate through her pussy, pulling another long moan of your name out of her lips. She’s sensitive from her previous orgasm, already twitching against your tongue, yet her hips rolls into your mouth to chase release a second time. You stare up at her head thrown backwards in blind pleasure, at the sheen of her lips and the movement of her breasts, nipples like pretty pebbles on her chest. Sweat clings to her brows and dampens the bangs framing her cheeks. She’s a painting above you, one that you can’t tear your eyes from.

“You’re so pretty, Swan…” you mutter into her pussy, flicking your tongue on her clit, and she almost melts at the compliment.

Her hips grind into your face as she feels herself getting closer to release, gripping your hair a bit tighter to keep your mouth on her cunt.

“Oh…” Black Swan moans, two fingers closing around her nipple to pinch it softly. Her cum drips down your chin and her eyes shut in bliss.

Her orgasm comes embarrassingly fast— after having to rely for so long solely on the thoughts of you as she touched herself, hearing your muffled sounds into her pussy is enough to bring her to the brink. You’re enthusiastic, licking up her slit and between her folds, sucking her clit hard and fast, and she can’t resist bucking into your mouth as she comes on your tongue. Her body trembles and you welcome the gush of her cum in your mouth with a pleased moan, eagerly lapping up her release. Your hands tighten their hold on her thighs, keeping her flush against you while she rides her high, slightly leaning forward. Her clit twitches, her cunt throbs and she can’t believe how wet she is, cum staining her thighs and the bottom of your face.

You don’t let her pull away, gripping her tighter when her hips jerk away from your mouth, and she gasps out, the feel of your tongue pushing into her entrance quickly overwhelming her.

“Aeons—“ A moan breaks her sentence and the words get stuck in her throat as you wriggle your tongue inside her to swallow more of her cum.

Her thighs shake around your head and her eyes almost roll back into her skull at your desperate need to draw more of her needy sighs and throaty moans. Your open mouth won’t leave her pussy, sucking her lips, nose grazing her sensitive clit. Black Swan makes a pretty mess on your face and her hips greedily grind into you despite the overwhelming sensations, clutching the headboard in a tight grip.

She breathes out your name, eyes shut and brows twisting in pleasure, “Ah… Mmh—!”

You wrap your lips around her clit and suck, making her choke out a strangled moan as the hand in your hair attempts to pull you from her pussy.

“T-Too sensitive…”

Black Swan sees stars behind her eyelids, a broken whine in her throat when you relent slightly and opt to tease the base of her aching clit instead. Her stomach is so tight, orgasm rapidly approaching, and she can’t do anything but rub her cunt desperately onto the flat of your tongue. She needs to come so badly she forgets to take into account the fact that you’re having difficulty breathing with your nose in her pussy and her thighs around your head. There’s a throbbing in your skull not unlike a coming migraine, but you focus on making her feel so good her teeth sink into her bottom lip to muffle a needy cry.

With the tip of your tongue teasing her entrance, Black Swan comes hard and shakes above you as a drawn out moan of your name rips from her throat. You can’t breathe with how much she’s squeezing your head, you have to tap her thigh a couple times to get her attention and she finds the strength to pull herself from you, a tremble in her legs. You’re both panting heavily when she collapses on the bed beside you, catching your breath as the throb of your skull slowly subsides. Black Swan has the back of a hand on her eyes and you can see the quiver that runs through her with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

You bury your face in her chest and she sighs in satisfaction, absentmindedly stroking your hair as you press soft kisses to her breast.

“Was that okay?” You murmur into her skin, rubbing her waist.

Black Swan laughs, disbelief sending ripples through her abdomen. She tilts your head to face her and gazes down at you with a mix of endearment and amusement.

“It was more than okay, trust me.”

Her hand pulls you to gently kiss your lips, tasting herself on your mouth. You’re putty against her and she has no difficulty flipping you over so that your head rests on your pillows. A thumb swipes over your jawline when she separates her lips from yours. You watch the sun rise in her eyes.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, mmh?”

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Eighteen

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Nothing super specific, but things get pretty dark (at least in my opinion). Mentions of torture.

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Azriel grabbed Rhys by the front of his jacket, hands shaking horribly despite all his efforts to stop. It had started this morning, when another disastrous attempt to talk to Andrian had left Azriel with his mind in shambles, knife pressed against his own throat. It had been going on for weeks now. Someway, somehow, Andrian would find a way to break through Azriel’s defenses and force him to relieve his worst memories. Sometimes he dreamt of his burning hands. Mostly he thought of you, and the day he’d nearly killed you. 

“Tell me you didn’t,” Azriel growled desperately. “Tell me!” 

It was too easy for him to pick out when his brother was speaking with Feyre, and something about the way Rhysand had been looking at him— like he was a fraction of a second away from splintering into a million pieces — told Azriel enough about who had been sent for. You were the only one who could calm him. The only one who could do what he and Rhys had failed to do. 

Violet eyes shone from a perfectly handsome face. A face he knew too well. A face that he wanted to punch right now. 

“I’m afraid I can’t, brother,” Rhysand responded gravely. 

Azriel slammed his fist against the wall instead, taking out a chunk of granite that spit grey dust into the air. He swore beneath his breath, pacing the hallway and trying to steady his racing heart. He’d never wanted you to see this place. He’d never even wanted you to step foot on the island above, its rolling peaks a stark contrast to the tunnels below where Azriel conducted his business. Business that stained his hands a thousand shades of red. 

“You’ve been working yourself ragged, Az, and Andrian still hasn’t said anything. Not to you. Not to me. We need to know all we can about Koschei. Vassa’s on the brink of madness. Henna’s dead. I can’t even get past Andrian’s mental wards. What the fuck are we meant to do?” 

“So you thought to go behind my back and bring Y/n into this?! She’s not something for you to use, Rhys.” 

“She’s already in this mess.” Rhys reminded him, as he often did. His eyes softened as he looked to the locked door at the end of the hall with its small, rectangular window. Bars breaking up the lamplight glowing from within. “And you know she’d agree this is the best course of action. She’ll be able to do it.” 

Azriel’s hands shook. “Give me another week and I’ll get us the information we need. Tell Feyre to turn around. Don’t bring Y/n here.” Don’t let her see this part of me.

“The boy doesn’t have another week. He doesn’t even have a day.” 

The shaking traveled throughout Azriel’s entire body. His eyes darkened and he began the process of hiding his heart away within the void that curled inside of him. That wicked beast that was always on the verge of swallowing him whole. 

Feyre winnowed you both to the outskirts of the northern territories and you went from sweating in your fur-lined leathers to shivering in the knee deep snow. The Illyrian Mountains rose behind you like predatorial rows of shark teeth and the endless sea stretched in front, slate grey and empty except for lonely ripples of sea foam. Through the frosty haze you could make out a smattering of islands, each with their own tooth-like tips capped with snow and ice. Feyre looked at you, her eyes leaning more towards blue now that she’d tapped into the Winter Court’s power to stave off the cold. 

The Warren was protected by wards that made winnowing impossible, so you let Feyre scoop you up in her powerful arms, wings growing from her back like unfurling shadows before the ground dropped away from her feet and she took off into the sky. 

You clung to her shoulders, eyes slamming shut so you wouldn’t have to look down at the churning black waters and the rocks they crashed against. If you were to fall now, you could only hope you drown before the waves ripped your body to pieces against the rocks like meat torn between a pair of canines. 

You stayed frozen and tight as a coil until the rush of wind stopped and you no longer felt your stomach creeping up into your throat. You could have dropped to your knees and kissed the ground if you weren’t sure your lips would freeze there. You did shove your hands into the gritty sand though, breathing slowly through your nose until you finally had the strength to stand. 

Feyre led you down the long stretch of beach, waves whistling in the wind — a haunting, beautiful melody, like a woman crying. 

Azriel had discovered The Warren centuries ago. After a particularly brutal brawl that had left him with a broken arm and cracked ribs, he’d taken to the skies, desperate to escape the hard packed floors and burning scent of sex mixed with alcohol that seemed to invade every corner of the Windhaven barracks. He’d been fighting over a woman, a woman that had been dragged into the rowdy common room trembling with the telltale sign of a whisky haze over her burnt umber eyes, dress ripped and muddy. 

Did it even matter that he’d brought her back untouched to that leaning house with its wooden slabs frosted over and the chimney coughing up black smoke like a diseased lung? Azriel had wondered as he flew without a destination in mind. And when he’d finally collapsed on the island, frozen ground beneath his hands and knees and spitting out blood from his cut up gums, his shadows had tugged him towards the gaping mouth of The Warren, urging him to explore a darkness that was his and his alone. It had been his escape. A safe place in the world that had so few. But when Rhysand became High Lord and he the Spymaster, Azriel hadn’t hesitated to give up The Warren in the service of the Night Court, adding it to the long list of sacrifices he made so that he might actually start to feel like he deserved his place with his family. 

You stilled in front of The Warren’s entrance, black walls glittering and damp from sea spray. Jagged, cracked bone rocks hovered overhead like axes ready to fall, jutting out of a cliffside and curling over the beach in the shape of a hunched back or an unhinged jaw. Wind whistled from within like asthma — high-pitched and keening. 

“This is where you keep all your prisoners.” You weren’t asking a question, merely stating a fact. 

Feyre had had little time for explanations back at the House. She’d focused on defending your body against the frigid cold to come, her mind split between you and Rhysand as he worried over Azriel from miles away. 

“Not all of them. Only the ones Azriel finds useful.” 

“The ones he plans to torture for information.” 

From somewhere deep within the earth you swore you heard the clanging of chains, a growl, and a desperate groan that had the hair on your neck rising. 

Feyre’s usual warmth was gone, replaced by something with more tact and less care. “This isn’t a place for the faint of heart, Y/n. And neither is Azriel. He’s tried to hide this from you, but it’s as much a part of him as anything else and if you care for him as much as I believe you do, you’re going to need to get used to this.” 

There was the faintest flicker of doubt in your heart. “Andrian… he’s just a boy… you haven’t—Az hasn’t—”

“No,” Feyre said quickly. Horrified. “Azriel found him weeks ago trying to slip back into Day Court. We brought him here because it’s the most heavily warded place in Prythian and because the world needs to be protected from him as much as he needs to be protected from the world.” She grabbed your hands. They felt cold as ice. “Y/n. I swear to you, we haven’t hurt that boy. We won’t hurt him.” 

“I know. I just… I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Already you felt sick to your stomach just for asking. Azriel was many things — dangerous, cruel to those he felt were deserving of it, maybe even murderous at times — but he was still Az… and you weren’t afraid. Not even as you let Feyre lead you into The Warren, and you were swallowed whole.  

The mouth of the cave quickly narrowed into a tunnel before turning at a severe angle and twisting like a corkscrew downward. If it weren’t for you and Feyre’s glowing bodies, you might have missed one of The Warren’s slick steps and tumbled down forever. 

You passed by two offshoots, each branching out into their own secret tunnels that whispered and echoed and smelled faintly of blood. Coppery and sour. 

One of the rooms you walked through smelled like metal and limestone. The rust-colored ground and drain in the center of the floor told you all you needed to know about its purpose and before you could stop yourself, before you could even think about whether this was truly a good idea, you found yourself pressing a hand against one of the chains hanging from the ceiling. 

If Feyre was right and this was truly a part of Azriel — something horrible that needed to come with all of the good that he was — then you wanted to know. You felt that you had some right to know, and if it was the power the Mother had granted you, then you would use it when you saw fit. 

Feyre froze when your power flooded the room without warning, feeling the energy and fury radiating off your skin without even turning to look at you. You kept the memories a safe distance away, but drank in the knowledge of every horrible hand that had hung from that ceiling like you were reading a list of names from a book. You read their crimes. You read every drop of blood that Azriel had spilled on the ground. 

“Y/n?” Feyre asked tentatively, fearfully, when you blinked and released the chain. 

She had every hope the bond would snap in place for you soon and that you’d help end Azriel’s centuries of loneliness. That you might be the one to finally show him he was deserving of kindness. But to love Azriel as he was, with all his rough edges and the pain he could inflict as much as he carried… it was not for the faint of heart.  

“I understand why Azriel wanted to hide this place from me. This part of him,” you said quietly and to no one in particular. Not even to Feyre. “But he shouldn’t have.” Your eyes turned harder than stone. “They deserved it. Each and every one of them.” 

Feyre stood, shocked into silence, and it wasn’t until you gripped her arm and nudged her into the next room that she found she was able to walk again. 

You passed by more hallways and more rooms, some disturbingly clean and empty, others with chains hanging from the ceiling or littered on the floor. But the strangest part was, you could smell Azriel within these cramped walls, and that alone made you quicken your steps. 

You chased that familiar scent, walking confidently through the dark and passing Feyre until you were spit out in a long, neat tunnel with one metal door at the end. Tendrils of shadow flickered from around the corner. 

“Azriel?” 

Your heart pounded in your chest when you saw him leaning against the wall, hands folded behind his back. Rhys’s eyes flickered to you, then to his mate as she followed closely behind. Azriel stiffened, his eyes locked and heavy. Shadows tugged at his eyes and accentuated the sharpness of his cheeks. He looked like he hadn’t slept since the day he left you… which wasn’t so far from the truth. Because the whole time he’d been here, he’d been thinking of you, and the ways you might hate him for what he did and the sick corners of his soul. For—

You sailed into his arms, wrapping yourself around his torso and pressing your face into the hollow of his neck. Part of your mind chastised you, calling you silly and desperate as it reminded you it had only been ten days since you’d last seen him. But you didn’t care. It felt far longer than that. Too long. 

You needed this almost as much as he did. 

You disappeared behind his wings, cocooned safely in membranous folds and shadows that kissed your skin. Azriel himself buried his face in your hair, feeling some of his worst worries dissipate. You hadn’t run away. You hadn’t been so disgusted as to leave just yet. 

“Y/n,” he murmured your name before kissing your temple. “Gods, I missed you.” 

“I would hope so.” You murmured into the curve of his jaw, “I might be a boring bookworm but I’m better company than this place.” 

Azriel winced. “You have no idea.”

You missed the pointed look that Rhys and Feyre threw your way, but Azriel didn’t. He was tall enough to see over your head as Feyre pointed to the door at the end of the hallway, eyes glistening. They had come here for a purpose, and the sooner it was over with, the sooner they could all go home. 

Azriel’s arms tightened around you. “I didn’t want you to come here. I didn’t want… I didn’t want you to see the things I do.” 

“I know.” You traced the curve of his jaw, thumb smoothing over his cheek. “But I’m not afraid, Azriel.” 

His eyes flickered from fear to relief to love, like one of those picture books you had to flip through to see the scene play out. 

“You’re not?” 

You shook your head no. Then you kissed him on the lips and whispered the words for him and him alone. “I trust you. You’re the most terrifying thing here anyway, and you’re mine.” 

Yours. 

Azriel quitel liked the sound of that. 

Even here in the dungeons burrowed beneath empty frozen lands, Azriel found it within him to hope. Horrid creatures might be hidden elsewhere, creeping like slugs under the earth that he’d have to crush beneath his boot or tear treasured secrets from, but for now you were still by his side. For now you were still his and he would always be yours. 

You looped your arm through his and moved towards that door at the end of the hallway, steeling yourself for what you already knew was behind it. 

The light from the barred window flashed warm and cool then warm again. Light warped and pranced. The scent of rot hung in the air, humid and choking. You touched the door handle, feeling the magic fall away like it recognized you and opened up into a makeshift, but quaint bedroom. There were no windows here for there was nothing to see below ground, but some of Feyre’s landscape paintings hung on the wall. Faelights bloomed overhead, throwing light and heat on a child’s bed with green sheets, a table, and a bookcase overflowing with an assortment of puzzles and novels and toys. You felt your blood turn cold. They’d once belonged to Nyx before being repurposed for the little boy trembling on the floor. 

You stared at him in horror. 

The little boy who’d been so violently bright that morning in the marketplace was dull. Although he was wearing fresh clothes, his skin had turned a stone gray, black marks dotting his once silken, silver skin like a disease. He was aware of his condition, weeping on the plush rug cut in the shape of a flower as he batted at his arms, willing them to turn healthy again. 

“No no no no no no,” he sobbed. He grabbed at his pillowy hair in frustration and tugged. A cloud of fragile strands came away and he cried harder, trying to stick them back to his scalp. 

Rhysand’s face was broken and pale. He tried not to look at Andrian. He was too young. Reminded him too much of his own son. 

“You were right.” Rhysand’s voice was hollow, laced with a pain that grabbed your throat and squeezed. “Koschei did kill him. He’s been dead this whole time.”

“NO!” Andrian screamed. “HE DIDN’T! HE PROTECTED ME!” 

Fat tears rolled out of filmy eyes, dusty and brown as pond water. Rage filled him with new energy and he tried to attack your mind as he’d already done with Azriel. But there was something altogether different about your magic, something flexible that morphed and rearranged your mental walls until it felt like he was trying to attack himself. 

He gave up when your walls didn’t fall, and chose the physical route instead. You recoiled as he took a swipe, bony arms reaching out in an awkward lunge. But his legs were too weak and crumpled beneath him. He looked like a fish laid out to rot on a summer day — bloated and slick. 

“Koschei brought him back to life for his powers—”

“HE LOVES ME! PAPA LOVES ME!” 

“To use as he saw fit when the time was right.”

“But he can’t survive being separated for so long from Koschei’s power, can he?” 

Just like Vassa. Left on their own without their maker they couldn’t handle the curses that had been placed on them. They’d bend until they broke… unless they found another way… 

“The killings,” You murmured as the pieces slowly fell into place, “He killed those Librarians and the tailor and the florist…” You didn’t want to be right about this. You prayed to the Mother that you were wrong. 

But Azriel read the thoughts in your eyes and nodded. Feyre could only stand still and Rhysand couldn’t do more than speak out in that dead voice of his. 

Andrian had killed those fae, not just to send a message, but because that was the price for going against nature, for being brought back from the dead. Power demanded balance. To stay alive, Andrian had needed others to take his place. Those Librarians and the Velarians hadn’t been murdered. They’d been sacrificed. 

What Koschei had done to this boy — what he’d turned him into — made you want to crawl into a dark corner and stay there forever. 

Andrian’s sobs died out. A crack of lightning followed by unnerving silence that had Azriel’s blood freezing in his veins. Andrian wasn’t much older than he’d been when he’d first been tossed into that dark cellar. When his brothers had set his hands aflame. 

“He loves me,” he declared, as if saying it would make it true. He stayed curled up in a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth on his heels. “He stayed when Henna left me. He wasn’t afraid of me like the others. He took care of me.”

But Koschei hadn’t taken care of him. He’d taught Andrian to love him. To worship him, because that’s what he craved above all else. He’d helped the boy control his powers and had allowed him to live so he could send him off to die when it was most convenient. You’d thought Henna was Koschei’s perfect soldier, but you were wrong. Andrian was. He’d been broken and molded into something that should never have existed. He’d been sent to Prythian after his sister’s death to take her place. A boy who would have no choice but to return to the lake or die trying. 

And he was dying. You could see it clear as day. Two teeth clinked onto the floor and Andrian’s hands flew up to his mouth. He whimpered, eyes locking on you like you might be able to fix this. 

You wanted to beg Rhys and Feyre to do something, to fix him, but it was a useless endeavor. They wouldn’t have brought you here if they could just reach into Andrian’s mind and end it all peacefully. Andrian was too powerful for that. But you could use another way. 

You approached him like a wild, injured animal, grimacing when he tried to run at you only for his ankle to twist and then snap. He fell to the floor in a pathetic sprawl. 

“Hey there, little feather.” 

Andrian paused at that familiar nickname, watery eyes looking up. You said it just like Henna had once upon a time. The same inflection in a differently pitched voice. His lips trembled. 

“She left me.” 

You shook your head before kneeling on the ground in front of him. He smelled of death. It clung to his linen shirt and trousers. It clung to the few strands of hair still woven into his scalp, skin so thin you could make out his skull. 

“She didn’t leave you, Andrian.” You poured your voice out over him, as soothing as you could make it, forcing the tears down. “She thought you’d died and that you’d stayed dead. She had a little ceremony for you out near the willow tree and buried your favorite toy beneath it with a handful of water lilies. Do you remember it? The little wooden doll you dressed up like a soldier with the red cap and the silver shoes?” 

He clamped his hands over his ears, shaking his head while his weak neck teetered dangerously atop his shoulders. 

“Andrian—” You pulled his hands away and in a bold, dangerous move brought them to your temple and slowly lowered your mental wards. You didn’t give him free reign, but rather guided him through snippets of memories you’d taken from Henna before her death. They all revolved around him. Before, and even after Koschei had poisoned their minds, Andrian had remained her true priority. 

The boy’s eyes flashed from anger to confusion then, finally, to despair.

“She didn’t leave you.” 

Andrian waited a few moments that had your heart seizing, then rushed into your arms, tightening them like a vice around your shoulders and burying his face in your hair. You held your breath, but tightened your grip. You weren’t his sister, but you were the closest thing he had. 

Slowly, like sand falling through an hourglass, you felt his arms weaken and fall from your shoulders. He stared at you, wide and terrified as his hand snapped off at the wrist and fell to your side in a grey heap. 

“Make it stop. Please make it stop.”

You smoothed back his hair, shoving down the tears that threatened to fall. His eyes were white now and unseeing. “It’s ok, little feather. It’s ok.” 

“I don’t—” Even his voice was crumbling apart. Raspy and broken like cracked glass. He had little time left. The fight in him gone. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go to that dark place. Please don’t make me go.”  

Azriel had been watching the entire time, trying not to picture the little boy with dark hair, weak wings, and bandaged hands. He went so, so still. 

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. It’s going to be ok.” You promised. You forced your trembling lips into a smile. 

He took in a rasping breath. “Will you go with me this time, Henna? Please.” 

You gritted your teeth, brows furrowed in an effort to stay here instead of turning and sprinting back to the surface. 

“I will. That’s why I came” You brushed his hair away from his forehead, saying nothing when the wispy white strands were torn away from his scalp like silk… just like the memories of Koschei’s lake you plucked from his mind without him knowing. You swallowed the pain of what you knew was coming. “I won’t let you be alone.” 

He went quiet after that. Maybe his voice had deteriorated beyond saving, maybe he finally felt at peace. All you knew is that you needed to keep brushing his hair and holding onto his hand when he laid down and placed his head in your lap. He was like a little windup doll that had run out of string. He kept breathing until he finally stopped. 

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

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Author's Note:

So... this was a rather sad one, bit of a tonal shift if you ask me, but I wanted to wrap up the stuff with Henna and Andrian before we continue on to other things.

BUT, you have to appreciate when Y/n walks into what's effectively a torture chamber and goes "yeah, nope, still in love with Azriel." It's just one of those things that gets brushed under the rug but like... this guy's WHOLE JOB is inflicting pain upon people.... and you know what, it's a fantasy book, so who the hell cares. We stan Y/n being supportive of Azriel's career lol

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Yandere! Sung Jinwoo x Best Friend! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[ TW: stalking, obsession, gaslighting(?), gore, body horror, BLOOD, yandere Jinwoo au ]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Cai Bot Link ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Wherever you go, I'm always right there even if you try to hide ] ¡! ❞

"You're just imagining things" Jinwoo says, his nonchalant grey eyes glancing up at you. "You just don't sleep enough."

That's what he always says whenever you rant about the nagging feeling of several eyes watching you.

And you, being the stupid fool that you are— Believed his words.

Jinwoo is a smart and logical person, he's always able to make things just make sense.

So you never really questioned anything whenever he drops his opinion.

But of course, your instincts were never really wrong in the first place.

The itching terror crawling beneath your skin whenever you're alone, the weird chills tickling your spine when you walk in a dark place— It wasn't just your imagination.

The culprit?

He's staring right at right your face with those casual grey orbs.

Jinwoo has placed a bunch of shadows to trail you around, ten maybe 20,... Maybe. Who knows how many he has really placed?

Oh but one thing was for sure, there's at least two of his most powerful line of shadows safeguarding you.

Their duties were two simple orders: Make sure you are safe and sound and eliminate all forms of danger.

Eliminate All Forms Of Danger.

Sure, it could be just some bugs you're terrified of, or making sure you dont come across any dangerous plants along your way.

But their most important task was to murder anyone who tried too hard to come close.

Jinwoo was normally level-headed, he can take seeing you talking to someone else for at least 2 minutes, 5 when he's in a really good mood.

Past ten?

Hah.

'That fucker better start counting his hours' was the only thing ringing inside Jinwoo's head.

He was a jealous man, he'd be quiet but his gaze would grow darker. His ebony locks hovering over his steely gaze, his tongue pushing his inner cheek out as he tries to hold his temper, his foot tapping the floor impatiently as he counts the seconds the bastard went pass ten minutes.

78 seconds.

Jinwoo counted exactly 78 seconds when the conversation finished and your attention would return to him.

Immediately, that hard expression on him would go gentle.

He became quite the actor no thanks to you. jinwoo doesn't want you to have a peek of what he truly is as a person.

Though you were best friends, Jinwoo was a bit handsy with you. Just a bit.

His fingers lightly brushing against your fingers, your cheeks, mostly your ears actually.

Why?

Everyone reacts a certain way when their ear gets tickled.

And he reveled in the shudders and yelps you give him whenever he teases you.

The more you gave him your many expressions, the more and more he drowns in the black hole that is you.

Whatever you do, even the littlest things, his instincts would suddenly go haywire.

Mostly he wants to cherish you, pamper you, baby you like the adorable thing that you are.

Other times? Jinwoo wants to break you apart. Watch you sob, wrists bound, legs incapable of moving— He wanted to imprison you in the land of eternal death. Have you rot in his domain where he wouldn't worry about anyone or anything else breathing the same air as you other than him.

He wanted to love you and break you, and he knew that well. Jinwoo knew of his adoration and destructiveness when it comes to loving you.

You were really like a black hole, sucking him into the void and drowning him in a sea of emotions he never can quite understand.

Perhaps the system had really screwed him up in the head.

The pressure of being a monarch, of protecting this world, of being a vessel of war for several years— He had become twisted and completely paranoid to the point that he just wants control on everything.

And he wanted complete control of you too.

But he stopped himself, several times, he stopped himself.

Jinwoo tried to cut himself off of your life, to delete your memories of him.

But whenever he tried to he could never do it.

Everytime he did, he would just get frustrated and never finish the job.

The more he tries, the deeper he falls into the abyss that is you.

And now here he is,...

Alone in an alleyway, with the beating rain above his head, the water droplets gently dripping off of his black locks. His hand was bloodied as he held the head he had brutally ripped off of the bastard that dared to go pass the ten minute limit. The mangled corpse on the floor had organs spilling out with exactly 78 cuts on it's skin so deep it must have sliced the bone too.

And just like always, you're a witness to this hell.

Scream, cry, throw up— Whatever you do, you would just draw an amused smirk on Jinwoo's handsome features.

His lips would scrunch up on one side, his eyes glowing an ominous color of monarch violet as he lightly tips his head to one side. The stench of blood permeates through the air as the crimson liquid pooled and spread along with the puddles beneath your feet. Everything was now much more terrifying than what it was earlier

You wanted to run, you were afraid of whatever demon that is in front of you.

But Jinwoo wouldn't give you that chance, after all, he is suddenly in front of you— Right at your face.

His eyes were so out of it even though they are focused on yours.

The blood splatters on him was bone-chilling and sickening and yet somehow it made him more handsome.

Jinwoo is always wearing an empty and bored gaze, and yet somehow this psychotic side of him was alluring and dreamy.

Like a fragrant poison you knew would kill but attracted you even still.

"Sssh" Jinwoo purrs sweetly, cradling your face with one hand and then lightly kissing your lips for a short while. "I only did what I needed to do."

" You just listen to me like you always did and forget this ever happened like we've always done"

Forget? Forget how—

Suddenly, your body would go limp and he would catch you. An arm gently wrapped around your waist as he cradles your sleeping form.

Jinwoo would chuckle, pressing another light kiss on your lips,... then your forehead, your temple, your cheek, and once again your lips.

He held the kiss a little while longer.

He loved that expression on your face to be honest, how it scrunch up in terror and disgust. How you would pale oh-so immediately that he can't help but be giddy and want to kiss your pretty little face over and over— Smothering you like the lovely little thing you are.

He has done this so many times.

First, it was some people getting too close.

Second, it was your friends.

Third, these random people who would talk to you for more than ten minutes.

Time and time again, he would bloody his hands for selfish reasons.

Jinwoo wants to be the apple of your eye just as you are to him.

After all, he lovingly placed a legion of shadows in you so that he could watch you the second you are away from his physical body.

"God, I love you so much" He'd whisper, his lips against your hair as he inhales your scent in.

. . . . . . . . .

"Hey," Jinwoo casually greets you the next morning at school, your cute expression in a complete daze from having your memories wiped once again the night prior. "It's a long weekend after today, how about I take you out to dinner?"

[jiejies-corner-store]

THE AVENTURINE FIC 😭😭 OH GOSH IM CRYING 😭😭

i’m so sorry, anon! here this should make it up 😭😭 the devil knows you're dead

pairing. aventurine x reader

tags/tw: fem!reader, references to a complicated childbirth, mother!reader, father!aventurine, spoilers to aventurine's real name, spoilers in reference to 2.1 trailblaze questline, aventurine’s nihilism and depression, references to death, hurt/comfort, ooc aventurine probably, i make shit up at the end because i want a happy ending—bite me.

sfw

a/n: ouchie. i finished 2.1 and it hurt. it hurt a lot. the ost for the “all the sad tales” is genuinely so beautiful. the trumpet just feels so melancholy yet hopeful it just goes so perfectly with aventurine’s story. but i need something that feels good now. ABSOLUTELY NOT PROOF-READ pt. 1

“As long as you are alive, the blood of the Avgin will never run dry.”

It was cold. Cold and warm. Almost feverish feeling. The type of feeling you’d get when you were freezing but your skin was hot to the touch. There was this frustrating beeping noise somewhere off in the distance that you just couldn’t tune out, finally you opened your eyes to see a sea of darkness, and seemingly at an unreachable horizon, a large circle of white light that looked like a gate.

“You’re not dead, if that’s what you’re wondering,” a voice came from beside you. How you didn’t realize there was a whole person standing next to you, you had no clue.

“Well, that’s not originally what I was going for, but now I’m a bit worried I might be,” you laughed, nervous, but curious all the same. This… person you couldn’t quite make out an exact face, or even a body for that matter, but ther was this distinct feeling that it was in fact a person. Like your instinct knew, but your brain couldn’t quite fill in the details.

“This is a place beyond mortal comprehension, if I tried to explain it to you, you would only be more confused. Walk with me,” the entity said, and without even willing your body to do so, you followed. Ripples emanated from each step as you followed and soon the inky void around you melted into an unfamiliar planet.

The sky was a deep purple, streaked with red that looked like lighting that crackled along the sky. Instead of the fluid, black ground, sand now shifted as you moved foward. Inside a small hut made of rock, you saw a woman cradling a swaddled child.

“Such a lucky child, such a blessed child… Just like your name. A gift from THEM to Avgin… my boy…”

You turned to the figure beside you and hesitantly asked, “Where are we?”

“A land of rock, but not water, lightning, but not rain, blood, but not tears,” the entity responded cryptically, which only caused a crease in your brow. You went closer to the mother in the hut and sat next to her. She whispered a blessing onto her child, but none of the words made sense to your ears. Similar to the entity, it’s like your brain scrambled them from your understanding.

The mother cried. You tried to wrap your arms around her to comfort her but only phased through her like a ghost. The baby too began to cry.

Then, the scene changed again, suddenly it was a cell with iron bars. A blond young man sat next to you. The blond’s gaze was downturned, but you could recognize that voice anywhere.

“—Thirty tanba… that’s all my life is worth.”

“That’s not…” you said, but realized it was all in vain. You tried again to take Kakavasha’s hands into your own. You wantd to take the cuffs off his wrists and cradle where the skin was rubbed raw.

“It's all or nothing…”

“Kakav—agh!”

Your future never existed You█ future never existed You█ future ne█er existed You█ fut███ ne█er existed You█ fut███ ne█er ████ted You█ fut███ █e█er ████ted Yo██ ██████ █e█er ████ted

Your mind felt clouded, a searing headache, followed by an inability to even pin down a coherent thought. The scene shifted once more.

“What’s going on!” you shouted at the figure that stood only silently next to you, crippled on the ground, clutching at your head, fingers pressing in to try to find the spot that would alleviate this awful pressure.

When your senses were no longer blinded by pain, you were back to that inky void you started in, but this time you weren’t alone. Not far away, maybe twenty feet or so, was your Kakavasha, and a woman you didn’t recognize.

“Why are we born into this world if it's just to die?”

You stumbled to your feet to try to run to him, but with each step closer he only got further away. He walked towards that gate of light. In your head, you heart was pounding faster and faster. You failed to catch up to him. He only got further and further away until he disappeared like fireflies dispersing into the night, “Kakavasha! No—!”

Utterly devastated, you sunk back onto your knees. You didn’t know why but you had this distinct feeling of loss. Tears rolled from your eyes freely. He… he wasn’t gone surely? The entity’s presence reappeared next to you.

“Why did you show me all of this,” you asked, not sure if you actually wanted an answer.

“Because you need to go back,” the entity answered and your jaw locked, gritting your teeth so hard they hurt.

You screamed into the void, “You’re the one who brought me here!”

“I never call anyone to me… you mortals believe that it is US that determine when your time to go is… but in truth it is your own doing, whether it is your body or your mind that gives up first,” the entity said, “It is only the strength of your will that will allow you to continue down your destined path… but many give up on that path and someone else must be chosen.”

“What does this have to do with me,” you snapped. “Why are you meddling in my life? What does Kakavasha have to do with this?”

“Kakavasha still has a long road ahead of him. I have supplemented his journey all his life. It was only recently he was able to live on his own will,” said the entity ”Your body is giving up. I do not have the power anymore to keep him alive. That lies with you.”

Your surroundings melted again. You were in a hospital room and on the bed was you. Eyes closed and steadily breathing, but your heartbeat was weak. The annoying beeping from before was louder and more prominent.

“You wanted to help him. During his past, you reached out each time. There is nothing you can do about that now, but the future and the present… you still have a choice.”

Laying a hand on your unmoving body, there was a slight resistance, but with just a bit more pressure you felt as if you could phase through it entirely.

“What do I need to do,” you asked the entity.

“Live.”

You furrowed your brow at that. Of course you wanted to live… right? The entity gestured for your hand, you obliged. Against your palm was an oddly soft feeling. Warm. Like a mother’s touch against your’s. Your palms pressed together, the entity spoke,

“May the goddess Gaiathra close HER eyes three times… Keep your blood eternally pulsing… Let your journey be forever peaceful… …and your schemes forever concealed."

You lifted your head and your “body” began to disappear similar to how Kakavasha disappeared. Just before you disappeared into sparks of golden light, you had the sense about you to ask:

“Who are you?” you felt like you were shouting, but your voice was quiet.

“You could call me Fenge Biyos.”

You opened your eyes with a deep gasp for air. Your surroundings were blurry, and you rubbed at your eyes, only to realize Kakavasha was up, standing next to your hospital bed with an anxious expression, hands already grasping the one that was wiping crust from your eyes.

“You’re awake,” he choked out, holding you as if you would break, “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry for everything. I’m sorry I did this to you that I—”

“Kakavasha, slow down, what… why are you—no, don’t be sorry,” you finally found your words, sitting foward on the bed to wrap your arms around him. You racked your brain, trying to figure out what was going on. Your mind was still foggy, but finally that haze disappated and you remembered everything leading up to now.

“Kakavasha~” you hummed in a song-like tone, a small wrapped box with a blue and purple bow tied around it. You skipped over to his desk and wrapped your arms around his shoulders where he sat, and placed the gift in front of him, laying your head on his shoulder as your arms tightly hugged him. “I have a surprise.”

He smiled with a small laugh, “Doesn’t this usually work the other way around?” He pecked a kiss onto your check before pulling the bow off and opening the lid of the box, when he froze.

The smile on your face faltered bit when he didn’t say anything after a bit. The corners of it tightened into a more forced position, “Kakavasha? You’re gonna be a papa…”

The joy in his face from earlier had completely vanished. Only replaced by a stony, cold, poker face. He pushed his chair back and you stumbled into the wall behind. He gave you a tight smile and kissed your forehead before heading for the door and grabbing his hat. “I’ll be back later.”

With that, the door slammed shut behind him, leaving you at a loss as you fell into his chair, feeling suddenly so very empty in this large office alone.

He came back after that, apologetic for leaving you, but nothing felt truly right. He continued to reassure you that he did want to have this child, but it was a strenous time. The entire pregnancy was stressful. The doctors warned you that the level of stress you were under put you at risk for a premature birth, but you brushed them off. It was just the hormones, you were sure. Kakavasha still loved you. The ring on your finger should’ve been proof enough of that.

“How about the name Ilyas?” you suggested, laying your head on Kakavasha’s lap, “I was… looking at some databases about Avgin names and I thought that one was nice. What do you think?”

Aventurine hummed, but his mind seemed elsewhere. You let it go.

The next few months continued on in similar fashion.

But it all came to a head.

The two of you were standing in the kitchen. It had started off small. The hormones and the stress were getting to you. It was an off hand comment about him not fixing dinner, and you were tired and hungry from carrying around his child.

From there it had escalated. It turned into you were tired of feeling like you were walking on eggshells when you talked about the pregnancy. About how he was barely around for the appointments, and when he was he seemd emotionally distant… finally he exploded

“I never asked for this!” he shouted. “When did I ever say I wanted to be a father? Did you even ask me? Did you think about what I felt about this whole thing at all?”

You paused, feeling tears well up in your throat as a white-hot fear flashed through your body. You laughed, a hollow sound, “I’m sorry, Aventurine, I thought it took two people to make a baby? And you certainly made no attempt to use protection.”

He didn’t have anything to say about that. Even though the argument seemed over, you felt a nauseous feeling crawling up in your throat. Your tears felt like acid burning through your skin. Then a pain in your stomach. Your knees gave out and the last thing you remember was the scared expression on Kakavasha’s face before it all went dark.

“I was scared…. I was so scared that bringing another Avgin into this world would only bring misfortune onto you… that Gaiathra Triclops would take you from our child, just like my mother was taken from me,” he openly cried into your shoulder. “I took it out on you. I made something that should’ve been a beautiful experience something that was awful, and I understand… if you never forgive me for that but please…. please don’t leave.”

Now you were crying with him, one hand tangled in his blond locks and the other rubbing his back. Quietly, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it, he whispered, “I can’t lose you too.”

You thought for a long time. In front of you wasn’t one of the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC. Not a calculating or cunning man, who’s only interest was in things that benefited the IPC’s bank accounts. In front of you was a broken man, who’d had everything stripped away from him when he was only a child. Who was shattered and forced to put his life back together with nothing but fear and anxiety as glue.

Did it excuse what he'd broken?

No.

“I’m here… I won’t leave Kakavasha,”

But maybe with time and effort, you could help re-glue each other with something a little more beautiful.

“Ilyas! Don’t run so far!” you called after a small blond haired child who was already ahead of you by a longshot, you turned exasperatedly to your husband, “Honey, can you go after him please? I don’t want him to get trampled by some idiot who’s not paying attention…”

The man only smiled at you, one hand firmly wrapped around your ever expanding waist, “It’s okay. There’s some of my squad that’s following him incognito. He won’t get out of our sights without them dragging him back. We can let him get his energy out. He’ll be cooped up in a hospital soon.”

You huffed conceded. Already tired from just getting through the theme park’s entrance. You were due in about two weeks, but Kakavasha was insistent that a week before you’d be under hospital supervision until you brought your second child into the world. It had taken about five years before the two of you had healed enough and there were roadbumps along the way… but you were both ready to give Ilyas a little sister.

But for now, the two of you wanted to let Ilyas have one more day as an only child. The reconstructed Penacony was nothing like the Dreamscape of the past. Fear and secrets no longer were trapped in the gilded cage of the former prison planet. With the help of the IPC and the Harmony, New Penacony was entirely real. No more dreams, just reality. They’d kept many of their old franchises and built a true theme park.

“Mama!! Picture! Let’s get a picture here before we go in!” Ilyas screeched, pointing at Clockie statue in front of the Clock Studios main attraction. You set a hand on Kakavasha’s arm, glancing up at him to try to get a read on what he was feeling. He’d let you in on the parts of his past that he’d kept a secret. The scheme behind Penacony, his proposed “death” and his encounter with his Past and Future.

He took a breathe and looked back down at you, giving you a smile that said “I’m okay” and relief flooded your bones. After walking you over in front of the camera, he crouched down and scooped Ilyas into his arms.

“Ready?” the cameraman asked and you nodded. After a brief countdown the camera flashed, and for a moment in that bright light, you saw the hopeful future that lied ahead.

[kometqh]

𝐒𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (fem reader)

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨; @hashcakes , 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 <𝟑 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞) 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲.

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚, 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

Pink waves grasped at the sand, their back and forth swishing easing your nerves.

You were at the beach, with your love, your husband, Finnick Odair.

It had been a couple of months at this point, after the Capitol was overthrown and President Snow was no longer. Though the Capitol was gone and all citizens of Panem had seemingly integrated into one, equal society, the scars and marks that you had been left with did not go away as easily.

When you had arrived at District 13, you could barely utter a word, barely look up from your wounded palms. It had taken Finnick just over a month to get you to look at him, to let him hold you, and even more to get you to speak. But when you did, he cried of joy. He had asked you carefully if he could embrace you, and kiss you.

The Capitol did not only take away your voice, but they took much more than that. Your love for the seas.

You remember it vividly; eyes covered by a mask until you only saw darkness, the electrified currents rushing through your muscles, tightening the tissue like a rope. All the while all that your ears could register were your pleading, muffled screams, along with the sound of waves crashing agains the shoreline.

It was all that haunted your nightmares for the next year or so, coming back with dripping fingers, taking you deep down into the void.

When you were rescued, you had to be sedated in fear of becoming a danger to everyone else.

Quickly after waking up, you had been informed that Peeta had brutally attacked Katniss, strangling her to near death. You understood his actions and what drove him to them, and you wished that the young boy would recover quickly, although now you were well aware that these kinds of scars will never truly heal, never fully disappear.

Lost deep in thought, you failed to notice how Finnick's muscular arms wrapped tightly around you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

His deep, hushed voice whispered, "What are you thinking, my love?" It never failed to send a pleasurable chill down your spine. Melting into his embrace, your eyes fluttered shut, your head leaning to his.

"Just... About the water," You paused, releasing a soft sigh, "It looks so calm, so safe, and yet I'm still so, so afraid."

You felt Finnick's fingers feeling the soft material of your sundress, rubbing it between the pads of his fingers.

His voice was soothing, dripping with sweetness as he spoke, "We can go back, love. You don't have to do this."

You shook your head. "I need to do this."

He nodded his head, slightly lifting his head to place a kiss on your cheek, his hands caressing your waist. He then slowly let go, one of his hands travelling to your shoulder, then down your arm until his fingers interlocked with yours, fitting perfectly like a key in a lock.

"Let's get this over and done with then."

You smiled softly, though it didn't quite reach your eyes.

You stood a good couple of feet away from where the water met the sand, and yet your heart was still rattling like a wild bird in a small cage.

Finnick was trying something called 'Exposure Therapy' on you, as suggested by a doctor from 13. It involved you and the water. It took you a long while to be okay with showers, however the bathtub was not an option. That was something you couldn't overcome in your short time in the hospital.

Though now, as Finnick encouraged you to face your deepest nightmares, you felt grateful to at least be able enough to listen to and to watch the waves.

It used to be your most favourite thing to do in the world, and Snow took it away with just a lift of his finger.

Eyes heavily trained on the water, your mind had gone blank. Your lips slowly opened, stuttering over complete silence. You heard Finnick chuckle, and felt his body shake. He turned wholly to you, placing his free hand on your cheek, gazing into your eyes lovingly.

"I'm here, love. We're in District 4, standing on our favourite beach, watching the sea." Finnick said slowly, voice hushed as his eyes searched yours. "As long as I'm around you'll always be protected, always be safe." He continued, placing a tender kiss to your lips, and you leaned in, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.

As the two of you parted, you nodded your head lightly, gaze never leaving his.

A soft smile stretched across his face, his teeth gently peering through the gap between his lips. His dimples were also peering through, and you felt the urge to touch his face, to feel his skin on yours.

"Now, we'll go into the water, is that okay?" He asked, but you didn't respond. You didn't nod or shake your head, you didn't utter a single word. All you could do was swallow down your fear, and shakily grip his hand.

Finnick's free hand came to hold the side of your face again, his own face coming closer and closer, until your foreheads touched and your eyes were closed, listening intently to the sound of the waves, the sound of his voice.

"I've got you darling. You're safe." He continued, and pressed another kiss to your lips. Your grip on his hand tightened, and your free hand travelled up to his hair, gliding through the golden locks, down to his cheek.

Your hand caressed his sun-kissed skin. You didn't open your eyes, and instead squinted them shut as you felt the fear creeping up your bones.

"Look at me honey, I need you to show me that you know you're safe." He says, nudging your nose with his. "I'm gonna be with you every step of the way darling. With me around you ain't got nothing to be afraid of." He whispered softly, his hand squeezing yours back as he took two steps back, pulling on your hand.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you could feel your breath beginning to hitch as you moved two steps forward.

You could feel your heart stop for a moment, before it began to hammer again. With a deep breath, you nod your head.

"You'll keep me safe, Finn."

At that, the corners of his lips curled upwards, his dimples coming back. You trailed closely to him, leaving an arm's length between your bodies.

The sand beneath your feet was soft, still dry as you trudged forward, coming closer and closer to the foamy, pink waves. You slowly looked up, and with laboured breaths, you noticed how pretty the cloudy sky was.

The rising sun casted a candy cotton colour to the skies. The rays gently grasped at the horizon, and you stumbled for a moment, your breathing calming as a light breeze took a hold of your hair, pulling it as it went past you.

A soft smile appeared on your lips, and you felt a snap of confidence rush through your veins. In the corner of your eye, you saw Finnick turning back to look at you, his small footsteps coming to a stop as he allowed you to absorb the beauty of the morning sky, his eyes softening at the sight.

You looked to him, grinning a toothy smile as you gave his hand a tight squeeze. With a nod of your head, Finnick began moving again, tugging you towards the water, his warm hand embracing yours.

At first, you only felt the tame licks of coolness against your feet. The confidence you felt quickly evaporated.

You felt terrified, heart pounding against your chest with a long-known fervor, but you also felt the smallest bit of comfort.

It reminded you of how you and Finnick would run into the water, swim into the unknown depths without a single bit of fear. Back when you were kids, back when you were safe from the ghastly tentacles of the Hunger Games.

Now, as you stood there, your mind was at war. More water began lapping at your feet, dragging soggy sand over your skin lazily.

"Is this okay?" Finnick's soft voice ripped through the air, and you looked up, seeing how he was standing over you protectively, hands ready to lift you effortlessly and get away from the sea. His golden locks bounced in the sea breeze, the sun shone behind him, highlighting his honeyed skin.

"Y-yes, it feels... Strange. But I can stand it." Your voice was merely a whisper, and it tugged heavily at Finnick's heartstrings. He looked you over, noting how gorgeous you were in your white sundress, miniature sunflower patterns decorating the entirty of the fabric. Your feet had dug deep into the sand beneath, your legs frozen still, unmoving.

"Can you go any further?" His voice was sweet, steady and full of love. You nodded your head, but struggled to move. Finnick took note of this, and his arm easily wrapped around your waist, guiding you forward. "We can stop at any point, just give me a sign."

The more steps you took, the more numb your limbs became. The water was cold, freezing cold. The sand mostly smooth, though a couple round stones and seashells dug into the soft skin of your feet, lessening as you walked further into the sea, the water rising gradually.

It's when the two of you reached far enough for the water to lap at the hem of your dress that you singalled for Finnick to stop. The waves were much larger, swaying your bodies upwards, but they were also much gentler at this distance. A blanket of darkness enveloped you, and you felt a trickle of sweat falling down the side of your forehead, numerous shivers going down your spine.

Your breath stuttered, and your eyes focused on the water, your muscles cramping.

Finnick stood behind you, placing his warm hands on your hips. He placed soothing kisses to your neck, his fluffy hair tickling your cheek. If it wasn't for him, you'd already be crying hysterically.

His embrace was warm and secure, comforting and mellow. His kisses softly ghosted over your skin, and his hands secured you into place, ready to whisk you away at any moment.

The two of you stood like this for a long while, enjoying each others warmth, feeling the gentle sway of the waves, and your heart eventually calmed, slowly but surely. The waves remained steady, passing by you as though you were nothing but a phantom.

Slowly, your feet began to move, until you were waist deep in the water, eyes closed in concentration, Finnick holding you tightly. Your mouth was dried up, and your eyebrows furrowed in worry, stress cursing through your veins, pulsing like your heartbeat.

"You're doing great, love," Finnick softly muttered, grazing his skin against your own, arms wrapped around your torso to keep you warm, his fluffy hair tickling your face. "You're doing so good, keep going." His voice eased your nerves, and slowly but surely, your shoulders relaxed, and you released a shaky breath.

"Thank you Finn, thank you." You whispered, and you fought hard to open your eyes, but the wet sensation of tears had stopped you. You began to sniffle softly, and soon you felt the tears escaping your closed eyes, sliding down your cheek.

Finnick's thumb quickly wiped the first stray tear away, but more poured out. Your quiet sniffles turned into hiccups, body shaking with every breath you took, with every movement of the waves. Finnick gently lifted you up, carrying you away from the water, until you were safely seated in the soft sand, far out of the waters reach.

"I'm sorry..- I- I couldn't do it, Finnick." You sobbed out, tightly gripping his white T-shirt in your fist, crumpling the soft material.

Your meek, silky tears were cushioned by his shirt, his hand caressing your back with delicate strokes.

"It's okay honey, you did so well today..." Finnick softly muttered into your ear, his voice helping to ease your guilt. You knew how desperate he was to go swimming with you again, to be able to explore the kelp forests and spend day and night relaxing in the waters.

"I'm so so so s-sorry.." You continued, and laid in his arms for a while, until the tears dried up and you were left laying in his lap, watching as the sun made its way higher up into the sky, the sea gently swishing back and forth.

You had been there for hours, silently watching.

You could feel Finnick's stomach begin to rumble, and you shifted in his lap, leaning your head back to look at him.

His eyes were boring into the sea, watching with furrowed brows as he was lost in thought.

"Finn... Finnick," You whispered, your fingers gently tracing his jawline, "I think it's time to go, I can hear that you're hungry."

He blinked a few times, inhaling deeply as he looked down at you.

"Are you sure?" He asked, unsure and unwilling to leave the comfortable spot.

You nodded your head, lightly sitting up but his arms stopped you.

"I think Johanna might be bored of looking after the baby." You spoke with a smile, and Finnick reciprocated with a toothy grin of his, shaking his head lightly.

"Oh she loves our boy, she's always calling asking to come see us." He said sweetly, his grin having turned into a soft smile.

"Fine.. We need to stop by the market anyway, we've barely got any food." You said, leaning back on your hands, sitting between Finnick's spread legs.

"I can go catch something, you know. Maybe some abalone or something, like we used to." Finnick said, trying to convince you.

You didn't need much convincing though, as you knew how much he wanted to go back into the water. Maybe someday you'd be able to join him again.

"Off you go then, but don't be too long, and- and be careful. Okay?" You asked, eyebrows furrowing in worry, lifting your hand to caress his cheek.

Finnick leaned into your touch, the soft smile remaining on his face as he nodded.

"I won't be long, I promise."

With that, the two of you stood up, and you embraced each other. Your arms wrapped around his neck, Finnick's hands finding their rightful place on your waist.

The two of you shared a deep kiss, lips moving together in sync as you smiled, feeling your heartbeat speed up.

The wind tugged at your hair, invisible fingers stroking through it as it flowed by.

Finnick's hold on you tightened, and you felt him inhale deeply, his feet shifting in place. You smiled into the kiss, and felt his tongue dart out slightly, ghosting over your bottom lip.

Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging smoothly at the roots, eliciting a groan from him.

You parted from him, hands leaving his hair, coming down to his shoulders.

His lips chased yours for a second, eyes shut as he nudged your nose with his.

You allowed him one last peck, and then moved your face further away, forcing Finnick to open his eyes.

"Go on, I'll be here, waiting." You spoke softly, the smile on your lips finally reaching your eyes.

Finnick nodded with heavy lidded eyes, his lashes casting pale shadows over his cheeks.

"Fine, but you owe me one more kiss." He stated quietly, his hand flying up to the back of your head, keeping it in place as he stole a passionate kiss from your lips.

He then let go, saying a soft, 'I'll be back in a bit', before he stripped his shirt, handing it to you as he flexed his muscles.

You laughed out loud, head hanging back. He truly never failed to make you laugh.

With one last hug, Finnick proceeded to jog off towards the water, his body disappearing further beneath the waves until you saw him dipping under, for a long while.

You sat in the sand, eyes trained on the water.

He would make a reappearance from time to time for some air, before he'd dip back in.

It took him a long while, but eventually he returned, swimming up to the shore with pocketfuls, one hand grasping a whole bunch of abalone.

You raised your eyebrows in bewilderment, extending the corners of his shirt to create a makeshift basket.

Finnick dumped all of the creatures into it, and you tied the ends together, a gleeful smile on your face. "You sure got a lot." You said, shaking your head at him.

Finnick grinned at you, and you looked him over, from his dripping hair to his toned chest, to his shorts.

There was one more, rather large, shell poking at his pocket.

"I think you forgot some there." You pointed out, and Finnick shook his head with a smile.

"This one isn't for eating," he stated with a laugh, his hand reaching into his pocket to retrieve a snail shell, "It's for you." He said softly, handing you the object.

You looked over it, your fingers tracing the intricate, dark red patterns embroidered into the shell. The overall colour was a faint rosé pink, one of your favourite colours. It felt hard in your clutch, but sturdy and strong.

You brought the shell, or rather conch, up to your ear and listened.

After a short moment, you heard the distant sound of wind echoing through the conch. It sounded much different to the breeze present at the beach, but it was calming, comforting.

You looked up to Finnick, unable to hide your smile.

"It's beautiful... H-How did you find it?" You asked, surprise lacing your voice.

"I looked far and wide for it, I wanted to give you something to remember today," Finnick muttered, his voice gravelly and deep as he tried to catch your gaze, "You did so well today, and I want you to know that I'm so proud of you darling."

He spoke softly, and reached a hand up to your chin, lifting it so that you'd look at him.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you shook your head with a smile. Reaching on your tiptoes, you placed a tender kiss to his lips, feeling how his hand embraced your cheek.

"Thank you Finnick. It's beautiful," You whispered after the two of you parted, feeling the shell in your palm, "I love you so much."

His toothy grin stretched across his cheeks, and Finnick shook his head, gazing at you lovingly, his fingers stroking mellow circles into your waist, "I love you more darling."

[simp-ly-writes]

Chapter One: The Awakening

Can be read as a standalone: Personal Hell Series (pt.2)

Pairing: (Hazbin Hotel) Lucifer Morningstar x demon overlord!Reader

Summary: Surrounded by darkness- you rest waiting for a hand to pull out out of its depths. From your last breaths, much time has passed and perspectives have changed. Even if you were to return, would people even want you to?

Warnings: 4662 words, mentions of violence and mental health, possible gore and death.

A/N: Still getting into characterization of these characters, apologies if things appear slightly off for one reason or another :)

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist

Hushed voices swirled around the darkness, you did not know if your eyes were open or closed within this space nor did you know if these sounds were from a distant memory or present- wherever that would be when you awakened… when you hopefully awakened. 

You could not panic in this space, you could not hear yourself breathe in the stale air. Its coolness flooded your lungs as a shock of your heart echoed with its beat when a hand appeared in front of you, gloved in white. You hovered your own above the outstretched palm, you could not understand a word they spoke as their fingers flickered in the depths. 

You placed your hand cautiously into their own, one finger at a time before the gloved hand latched on with a vicious grip. Their hand shook as your atmosphere started to rain golden coins in the shadows. You felt another hand being brought to your neck, forcing you to look upwards to the thousands of coins falling around you, clashing like swords against one another yet falling endlessly. They did not echo, only chime as the voice began to hum, their grip loosened as a coin was headed straight between your eyes- it was all you could focus on. 

You breathe heavily as you thrash out of their grip, they allow you to easily as their hands blend back into the black depths once more. You look back up now, the coin is only seconds away, growing in scale- encompassing every part of your mind as you try and leave. You are desperate for escape, you imagine yourself running in the void, you plead into the space before being overwhelmed with the sense of falling. 

Your eyes open up to the familiar red skies, you look around hopelessly for the golden circle about to seal your fate but only smog filled clouds drift-by peacefully. Looking around Hell once more has you crying out in happiness before being overcome with disbelief. How were you back? Why were you so happy to be back?- Blue skies were only so far away and yet the tearfilled eyes and fluttering ends to your smile could only mean one thing, whatever- whoever had allowed you a second chance had somehow known that above all else, you wished to be back here with the people you loved. 

But those thoughts were of secondary matter as you looked around the forested area, the area silent beside the trees drifting by in the growlingly harsh winds coming from the east. You struggle to stand, roots encompass your form as you wiggle out from underneath them. The wood groans from your struggle as you summon your claws forward, slicing through the material with ease. You lean against the tree’s trunk for support, your legs wobbling like a sailor returning home from the sea. 

Your neck cracks as you let out a yelp from the static pain, rushing to massage the muscle as you take your first steps forward. You shiver from the breeze, gripping your white military jacket closer to your form as you follow the sun forwards and out of the woods. Your eyes go wide when the first semblance of neon lights gleam brightly in your face- showcasing crude language as a scantily dressed demon shoves you aside and into the road with a laugh. A car swerves around your form as you curse out- matching the signs choice in language as said car drives itself into a building just down the road and a fire warms your backside.  

Various demons and creatures alike watch as you stumble through the cityscape and decide to take a moment in a nearby alleyway. Various rats greet you with their sharp yellow teeth before scurrying back off into the sewers below. You choke back the smell of utter shit wafting up through the drains as you process your surroundings. Time had definitely passed from when you first entered the void and you were clueless as to when you had ended up in. 

You hear as hundreds of footsteps walk past your position as you try and pick up on their conversations, “mickeys got a special at the club tonight- always a good show that rat is.” “Rozrid overdosed an hour back, that fucker took the last of my stash.” “some princess they are, little bitch has worse vocals than that guy I fucked yesterday. All that preaching and hopeful shite- someone ought to teach her a lesson.” 

Princess… The word echoes through your mind, tracing through every bit of your memory. PRINCESS! You shriek into the alleyway before rushing out and back onto the crowded streets. You feel each stain of dried blood on the sidewalks as you run towards what you hope to be downtown- you need to get into the inner circle. You needed to see if your work had paid off as that one passerby stated for yourself, you do not feel the tears drip down your cheeks as you throw each person aside in your path of havoc. A sign pointed towards a railway station as you dashed to the sounds of the steam engine screaming out. The train is about to leave as you leap onto the back cart door and fumble your way inside. 

The sole of your left boot is now completely missing as a leftover fork stabs into your skin. Various suits and gowns stare at you in disbelief. A few rise to a fight, thinking you to be a demon playing a dangerous game with their hearts as others join your tears in joy. You shake off their stare, picking up a knife before ushering it to enlarge. The spear now being tipped down an aggressive tophat's Adam's apple before you throw them out the window, their comedic scream echoing against the side of the tunnel before a splat of their corpse as the train runs over their corpse. A woman stands, her parasol being flaunted like a foil moves sharply to stab you, sidestepping it and crashing into a table, you rip the cloth from its surface, casting it in flames before throwing it to her skin that melts with agony. 

You continue walking forwards before looking over your shoulder to address the crowd, “will there be anyone else wanting to play with the Right-Hand?” Silence is their answer as you hum out in approval, unlocking the next door and entering the subsequent cart. You look into the various suites before finding an empty one at the end of the cart. The door slips open with a wave of your power before locking behind yourself. Leaning against the door, your heart pounds  heavily in your skull as an overpowering of new information brings on yet another headache. 

You wish nothing more to be back in the void now while staring into your appearance through the black mirror. Your reflection is only dim- perhaps the mirror is mocking your lack of looks currently as you run a hand through the top of your hair, cringing at the dried-blood clumps that stop your fingers from progressing any further. 

Turning back around you enter the small bathroom, turning the skin on as you pick through your locks before having to cut various lumps out that are not worth the pain. The towel you use to whip your face turns from white to brown as you summon a fire in your palm to eliminate the cloth's existence. You wash your fingernails clean and extend your claws outward, picking out the flesh clumps and bark from underneath, humming to yourself while sitting on the toilet seat. 

The train rocks sharply, making a harsh turn in a split moment as your face meets the corner of the sink and your right eye swells, almost closing. Cursing into the small bathroom, you strip yourself of your coat and clothing before soaking them in a freshly filled skin. You enter the bedroom space in the meanwhile, still humming a classic tune of your time while looking for supplies to fix your boots. The dresser houses the original room's occupants gear as you smirk at their taste in undergarments- how scandalous they appear in contemporary times it appears. 

 You stumble across a sewing kit just under the lacy garments as you throw your shoes off and get to work, a knock at the door startles your moment of peace as you curse out before snapping your fingers, the shadows of your usual magic flicker, as an ash like substance falls to the floor. You try a few more times as the door handle jiggles before a do not disturb sign now sings into place on the external door handle and you await for the sounds of the cleaning cart to carry past. 

Shaking your hand, your powers still need time to awake to full use and by the grumble of your stomach, they would not be healing anytime soon. You deeply missed the palace’s food in a time like this, fresh and otherworldly fruits summoned by the King just for you. Your favorite dish? Finely prepared by lunchtime with strict preparation orders, and what of dinner? Why- you always share that time in the gardens with the royal couple- chatting happily amongst one another. A bittersweet smile finds a home against your features as you continue connecting the leather back to the sole before putting the boot up to your face, admiring your handiwork and settling your foot back into its reassuring squeeze. 

Looking out the window as the sun kisses your features, you watch as thousands of buildings pass-you-by, blurring together with the speed. An announcement chimes through the stereo as you lean against the headboard, eyes closing to the gentle rocks of the cabin. “May I have your attention passengers, this train will be making all stops to the inner circle over the next two days. Tomorrow morning we will dismount for a refueling before continuing- have a pleasant afternoon passengers,” the announcer flashes before the line goes silent once more. 

Next to the radio sits a box with various coloured buttons on its surface. You pick up the strange object with curiosity, never had you seen such technology so openly available. The palace always believed in the traditional forms of accounting, books, records, and maps- how your heart ached to be inside your office one more, to complete your studies and report back to the court the morning after. You did not know if any of the servants or council members would remember you now nor if the royals even did. Shaking your head, too much time has passed- I would only be causing a disturbance to the new routines enforced, you think to yourself before snapping your clothes dry and pressing them against your form and snuggling underneath the covers. The weird box would have to await for another day. 

Your mission objective was to find the princess, see that you could retire that past-self, the one known to be dead- better dead. You shake in your sleep as you find yourself back to that announcement day. The joyous laughter erupting from the back of your throat at the feeling of the demon lord gasping for air, pushing up against your shadows as they tighten, the blood of the fallen soaking through every garment you wore as the sky rained arrows and spears alike. The silver glowing eerily a sea of blood encompassed the field. But just as your grip lessens, you feel that nauseous feeling overcoming your laughter, that blade cutting through your skin, slicing your core ever-so elegantly as you reeling in pain as you kick widely, mouth gasping, hands praying to the red skies you created. 

You hear as they laugh in your face before the world goes back. You are drifting through a dreamless state, your breaths echo evenly in the empty space before that white-gloved hand emerges once more, extending itself outwards to you. Learning back the hand only follows you with ease, floating just over your own, just asking to touch your own once more. You shake your head, pleading to awaken, hoping that the awakening you had earlier was not just the continuation of this nightmare on the other side…

--

You gasp yourself awake, the sweat dripping down your back as you throw off the covers. You feel from your feet all the way up to your head- you were still yourself. Looking up into the back mirror just in front of you, your face glows with newfound life as you gasp in surprise. Not a single cut, scrape, or bruise littered against your complexion. You shiver in confusion, reaching to grab your tailored coat from the nearby armchair.

Looking out the train window, the modernized outlines of a large city bustle on the horizon. You squint your eyes, trying to pick up on the sign just in the distance, in a fit of barely-visible text you make out the words, Welcome to the Pride Ring: Pentagram City 50 lives away. 

But just before you can jump up and celebrate to your adventures start, the radio by your bedside table crackles violently as the various nods fly off and post holes in the walls. Maroon waves flood from the speaker- only growing with sound as a shadow creeps out from between the emerging cracks as the device shatters into two and out pops what you could assume to be the radio demon himself. 

His yellow teeth make you cringe as they point nearest to your cheeks as he lends forward and takes in your appearance. The colour of their sharp points reminds you of those coins that plague your sleep as a red-leather hand extends its way towards your own. Without even moving he picks your hand, giving it a quick three shakes before dropping it swiftly and leaning against his cane. 

“Why hello, deer! Someone has decided to awaken from their… beauty sleep it seems,” the overlord teases as their voice crackles slightly at the end. You only roll your eyes as the air comes to a halt in the room as a screech can be heard as their nails dig into a nearby wall.

“Now you see- I am at a crossroads dear-General. On one hand I could return you to the King- maybe a bit roughed up- a good spar we could have here- just outstanding work you made of that couple earlier- BRAVO!” a series of cheers and claps emerge into the space that have you rolling your shoulders back and twisting your fingers, preparing for an attack. 

“But- I see that you are eager to draw blood, I do adore that quality of yours- just like old times no?- A scrape here, a scar there- all in good fun, but nevertheless where would the fun be in those few moments of thanks, a favour to be paid in future then I would be ushered back out?” He tisks while twirling his microphone, dispatching his nails from the wall as he passes up and down the small hallway, “I think I will go with the second decision- yes. You will join me to Hazbin Hotel-”

“And why in the every-living fuck would I do that radio-tower?” you question back, summoning a small portal behind yourself to gather a specialmade weapon, it cries for blood in its long rest as you hold it back in wait- watching as the deer-man’s head cracks at a ninety-degree angle. Eyes swirling with malice before cocking his head back with uproarious laughter,  small music notes appear like pollen in the air around his head- swirling like a hurricane before he gathers himself once more, bending forward to stare deeply into your eyes. 

“You would because you wish to see the Princess of Hell- do you not? I heard your sleep filled murmurs through the wire- you have nothing to hide~” he sings songs before extending his hand once more as a portal opens behind himself, a grand foyer stills in the background as smaller figures look through from the otherside curiously. 

Your eyes flash before and behind him as you debate your options, to stab or not to stab? “What is in it for you, Alastor?” you question, raising a brow alongside your blade- purposely not cutting into his skin yet applying enough pressure to feel as he glumps from underneath the angelic blade. 

“What is not in it for me- deer? I get to watch the father of hell himself one day realise you had returned and in doing so, decided to stay with me instead of reporting back to him for whatever little reasons your mind comes up with,” he adds with an erie-cherrie tone that has you cringing up your spine before motioning him through the portal with a tilt of your blade. His hands go up as an even wider smile coats his features, he turns around- coat tails flapping with the actions as he allows you to enter first, closing the doorway behind you both. 

--

You look around the Hazbin Hotel with great interest before a dull ring echoes in your head, you feel yourself falling backwards and against a sofa. The blush yet stained fabric groans over your collapse as you lean forward, clasping your head in your hands- a silent scream escapes between your lips as you become trapped in a distant memory, locked in earlier times. 

Queen Lilith stood beside you as she walked alongside your dedicated steps, you were monitoring the perimeter of the palace walls as she got you caught up on the various court meetings you missed that afternoon and the new idea she had, “There must be another way, Lucifer believes otherwise yet the killings- they cannot go on forever as they are merely a plaster to a larger crack in the system of death. There must be some way to get those who have fallen off the beaten path back on track- returned to heaven's pearly gates…” 

The Queen continues to describe her idea to you as your attention becomes divided, half-listening to her latest idea while also looking into the surrounding forest for a potential attack that you scouted while in town earlier. A group of thugs at the tavern were plotting to overthrow the couple- you would not allow that to happen of course. 

A few finger emergence in the blink of an eye as Lilith goes through shock- so lost in your soothing presence and her ideas that she stumbles back as you shove her aside, summoning your armour as you jump upwards- casting your sword through their bodies in a line before dropping to your knees in front of the King who had just arrived. You slam your helmet off, awaiting for the next orders, only squeaking your eyes open to watch as Lilith slaughters the rest with a mere click of her fingers. 

“Now back to where we were, what do you think of it dearest friend? Do you believe it to be possible- probable even?” Lilith asks while cleaning her nails as Lucifer checks his wife over from the attack. You rest against the ground still, holding your helmet between your hands, “Possible is never the question- my Queen. You are only the most powerful beings in Hell- there is little not possible yet probable is at a minimum. Heaven is dead ears to any semblance of change…” you scoff while rolling your shoulders back, “...trust me in saying that- they will never listen- not even to the truth, as I am sure you both already know.” 

A silence overtakes the woods as the smell of rotting corpses as you try your best to keep dinner town. The King raises his hand, motioning you to stand yet just as you begin, he takes your hand in his own- helping you up the rest of the way before offering an arm to his Queen as you follow in their shadows. 

--

When you emerge back in the hotel, you are still at the dozen or so pairs of eyes staring at you- analyzing your every move. You feel a static presence behind your neck, your hairs raise- it could only be Alastor. “Now, esteemed guests of the hotel and royalty alike,” your breath hitches as you look over each person of the crowd- eyes going wide when red eyes and golden hair grace your vision. “May we please extend our warmest welcomes to the oldest soul in the room, the confidant, historian and general of the seven rings of hell.” 

“Alastor,” You growl out with utmost annoyance, watching as horror takes over the supposed Princesses face before you even got to make a personal introduction. You soon realise your position as eons of service create your actions as you fall onto your knees before the royal, offering your hands as you state, “It is with great honour I get to be in your presence, Princess of Hell. It fills me with utmost pride and sincerity when stating that the sacrifices I have made have amounted to your life- my only plea would be to have met you sooner. Seen you grow by your parents' side but know that I am now your blade, an extension of mind and keeper of souls for as long as you see fit.” 

Charlie stands before you in shock, looking to Vaggie for assistance who’s sole attention is staring at the blade on your back- wondering if this was really you or someone imposing to attack. Angel Dust stands to the side, leaning against the bar while whispering over to Husk, “So… who is this person?” their hands wave over to your general direction as they sip down the rest of their glass. Husk rolls his shoulders and shakes his head, “Are you deaf- or just plain stupid? Did you not hear Alastor's speech?- they are practically the Right-Hand to all of Hell and should be dead.”

“Dead?” the spider questions back, “they sure look alive to me- more than alive, think they would fuck me?” Husk chokes on his drink and does not even bother to answer the question, only watching as Angel Dust walks his way over to stand beside Charlie and takes a closer look.

Charlie appears to snap back to reality, her cheerie personality falling instantly as she takes a deep breath, “If you are really who you say you are- prove it to me and then we can talk more.” You only nod once, starting to prepare yourself for a summon as Vaggie snaps her eyes away, looking towards her girlfriend with concern, “Everything alright?- I’ve never seen you like this before, is there something I should know? What did they do to you?” 

“More like all the things I wouldn’t care if they did to me,” Angel Dust comments as Vaggie flips him a quick finger in return. “You will find out just as I do,” Charlie states in a cold tone, she could not believe the person who helped to create everything she made this hotel to combat against, made her parents split, and the person she ever-so desperately wanted a chance to meet as a child- studying their craft, could quite possibly be before herself. 

You stand as everyone besides Alastor takes a step back, the Radio Demon leans forward with utmost intrigue pursuing his actions as you float slightly off the ground. You take the finest sliver of your blessing from the royal couple, a golden strand weaving its way around your fingers like a snake in grass that makes your shadows cower away. You toy with the snake, keeping careful track of its power while trying not to ring the bell on its collar, alerting the owner. 

When you fall back to the floor, your shadowed face returns to your face as you breathe heavily from the amount of control you had to bring forth. “Does my father know you are here?” Charlie questions with a tilt to her head.

“No, Princess. And I would like to try and keep it that way. I understand the damage I left from my untimely… passing. I do not wish to stir the pot more if I were to announce my return- shaking the foundations so to speak,” you reply with your head bowed, a silent golden tear falls down your cheek that you don’t bother to notice for it was the aftermath of using such magic. 

“How are you still alive?” Vaggie questions straight away afterwards while doing her best to stare into your eyes. “I have few theories but I have yet to find truth in any of them,” you state, falling back onto your court speech as you become bombarded with questions circling around you. 

“Do you want to fuck after this?” Angel Dust questions as you glare deeply at them, “I do not have time to waste on such matters.” You can hear a crackle in the air, Alastor appears to be covering up an actual laugh. 

“How did you get that blade?” Husk questions while cleaning the bartop, you twist your head over to the voices direction, “It was a birthday gift from the Queen.” You watch as his hand stops its circling with the rag, head slowly tilting upwards as furrowed eyebrows question your statement, “I assure you, before my death we were all in each others good graces- more so even…” you trail off with a twinge of a smile that has Charlies heart breaking for a third time that day. 

Your head snaps back over as Charlie clears her throat, your attention now solemnly on her. “Why would you create an extermination day if you were so against violence?” This question catches you off-guard. Your job came with violence as it did brains and empathy- how would she have known beyond the personality you created to the public… NO- no, no, no they could not have. 

“I read your journals, your books, listened to my fathers countless stories- you were a breathing legend- a myth of high regard and yet when my father read your eulogy at the royal funeral. He announced to everyone of your kindness often forgotten and all the little things in life that everyone takes for granted now. Yet YOU hid it, my FATHER hid it alongside my MOTHER! Your vile creation- why?” The Princess comes clean as Vaggie stills beside her, Charlie falls into her arms as she hiccups with tears. 

You hand twitches, wanting to bring Charlie into a hug, to listen to her worries, her ideas and history just as you did for her mother. “I am sorry,” you start off my saying, “And that will never be enough- I never expect it to be. I spoke out to Heaven, I followed your mother’s wishes- you may not know this Princess but you echo her past beyond measure. I watched as your fathers power flickered underneath their spears at God's hand and against the destruction of many. I take the blame for the creation of the extermination day. I pleaded at the Gates before falling back to Hell. It was the best choice we hand for a future for someone like you to rise again”

Charlie nods once before turning around and walking towards her room with Vaggie for support. Angel Dust lets out a low whistle before murmuring something about needing another drink, a few shots were already prepared at the bar- courtesy of Husk. Alastor comes around the couch and stands in front of you, “Now that was a wonderful display! The drama, the passion, the SPECTACLE! Oh, what a show, deer. Now I think it is time for some rest, there is an open room right beside my own if you need anything at all- I am your new first call after all,” the demon overlord says with excitement, clapping his hands together before opening a portal to one of the upper floors.

To be continued.

╰┈➤ A/N: hope you all enjoyed reading this next part! Thank you all so much for support on the prologue!!

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist

↳ Taglist: @jtcat305 @tati-the-fangirl @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08

[loveforneteyam]

❝your mighty warrior❞ ( I. )

golden eyes

summary: you never thought you'd see your lover's golden eyes again. and when you did, he didn't recognize a single part of you. pairing: neteyam x omaticaya!reader wordcount: 2.8k contains: angst, major spoilers for atwow, mentions of character death, blood, memory loss, sad guilty lo'ak, lo’ak x reader is platonic! notes: the first part, here we go! if i get things with the timeline messed up just ignore it haha. my heart breaks for lo'ak in this, but i hope you all enjoy!

paskalin : term of endearment oeyä tìyawn : my love tanhí : small, bioluminescent freckles

masterlist | series

The water is still in the night. Its chaos—violent waves that crash and collide—disappears once the darkness blankets over the sky. The surface of the water reflects the stars, small freckles of light in the face of the ocean. Although gentle tides push and pull, the vast sea is silent as it sleeps.

There is a beat to be heard; a pulse from under the water, under the ocean floor, from the very core of Pandora. A strong, mighty rhythm that shakes the ground. But this heartbeat does not come from the Great Mother.

In the quiet of the night, the reflection of the sky in the ocean is disrupted. Calloused fingers break through the barrier, reaching past the thin veil. He grasps the air like a rope. The crown of his head splits the sea in half. The moon pulls him to her; his body, strong and powerful, ascends.

──

It was his mother who pressed his eyes closed when they were void of life. The blank face of your lover glared into your soul. The grip he had on your hand--desperately clinging onto you like it would heal the hole in his heart--vanished, and you were left to imagine his fingers were still intertwined with yours.

You remember the wave of realization on his father's face, how his ears slightly dropped and his bottom lip quivered when he noticed that the bullet had gone straight through his eldest son's chest. Crimson collected in his shaking palms. You knew then that there was nothing to be done. Nothing except to sit next to Neteyam, your prince, as his soul moved onto the Great Mother.

His funeral was inevitable. After the war was over, it was time for the Suli's to say goodbye. You stayed with his brother, Lo'ak's hands placed in yours, as Neteyam slowly sank deeper towards the ocean floor. His frame became smaller and smaller, until he was completely engulfed by luminescent tendrils. Your lover was no more.

The family struggled to carry on without him. You remained close with his siblings, thankfully. Kiri mourned by your side. For a time, it had been just her and Neteyam. He was born less than a month before her and she considered him to be her twin. Tuk was young, but old enough to understand, “He is with Eywa”.

Lo'ak, however, was almost never to be seen. If you managed to catch a glimpse of him, he was silent and reclusive. He even ignored Tsireya, who asked you multiple times if he was alright; you never had an answer.

Despite your great loss, the village of Awa'atlu continued on. Every morning, the fishermen and farmers rose early, the healers prepared their supplies, and the hunters readied their ilus to dive through the sea.

Life continued on as if Neteyam's soul had never been ripped out of your blood-soaked hands, as if his eyes had never looked their last to you. It broke your heart.

──

Although Jake Suli had finally recognized his youngest son for his true potential, it was too late. Lo'ak put the blame for Neteyam's death on himself. He accepted that he would forever carry that weight with him, no matter where he ran to or hid.

You knew that when he was nowhere to be found, he was somewhere far off in the sea on Payakan's fin. He stayed out late and missed ceremonies and Suli family meetings; it was Neteyam who always pushed Lo'ak to participate. But even when he laid underneath the stars on the back of Payakan, the ocean water gently lapping at his skin, the guilt still sat in his chest like the bullet in Neteyam's heart.

Without his older brother, Lo'ak ceased to exist. He refused to meet his eyes or even speak to his mother. He made himself an outcast before his family could. You recognized that the void in Lo'ak's life was the same one tearing you apart, so you felt that it was your responsibility to look after him.

"We must be strong," Neteyam had told you the night you left your home in the forest. You said goodbye to your family to be with him. He'd placed his palm over your heart. "In here."

It was eerie how you could still feel his touch as if he were right in front of you. Neteyam would've wanted you to stay strong for Lo'ak, and you would do anything to honor your mighty warrior.

Unfortunately, looking after Lo'ak wasn't easy when you could never find him. Two days had passed and you hadn't seen him once. You knew not to worry--Kiri noticed your concern and said she'd seen him with his tulkun just outside of the reef. "He didn't seem like he wanted to come back."

By that night, you'd given up. After a great feast held for the birth of Tonowari and Ronal's child, you separated yourself from the others and sat alone on a far-off shore. The ocean life illuminated the darkness around you, small specks of teal and gold light scattered in the water. Your feet had sunk into the wet sand as the calm waves kissed your ankles.

While the ocean held many wonders that continued to fascinate you, it left a bitter image burned into your memory.

There was fire off in the distance, gunshots and explosions, but they were all the least of your concern. You shook as you held his body in your arms. The water had turned violent, as if the Great Mother knew of the war taking place. Sharp, chaotic waves crashed against a rocky landing. Crimson pooled in the grooves of the rock, running down the sides to where it diluted in the vast sea.

You never allowed yourself to remember anything past that. The ocean had not redeemed itself just yet. You pulled your knees to your chest so your feet were out of the water. The silence of the night would never be peaceful; if it was quiet enough, you could still hear his voice in your ear.

Fortunately, the silence broke. Soft footsteps in the sand were trailing towards you, and wide, golden eyes met your small frame. Lo'ak had not expected you so far away from the village, alone, at night. "(y/n)," he froze. "What're you doing here?"

"Lo'ak," you let out a breath of relief that you'd been holding for the past few days. You stood and brushed the sand off of your legs. "I've- We've been looking for you. Your mother and father have been so worried."

He frowned at the mention of his family--of his father. He refused to even imagine what they could possibly think of him. "I was just out," Lo'ak tried to dismiss the topic and swiftly walked past you, his shoulder barely brushing yours. "I'm fine."

The remnants of your heart cracked once again. Even when a hand reached out for him, grasping onto his fingertips, he'd pull away. The fear of rejection--the thought of placing his trust in someone with only betrayal in return--was too great. Lo'ak would abandon others before they could abandon him.

"Lo'ak, please." your hand gently grabbed his shoulder to turn him back to you. He stood a few inches over you and refused to look down to meet your eyes.

There was a soft spark in his chest, and you could see the flame beginning to grow. "What do you want, (y/n)?" He retorted with a sigh.

"You know what it is, Lo'ak." You brushed your hand down his arm to meet his palm. You placed his own hand on top of his heart. He sighed, breath laced with heavy regret and guilt. Lo'ak knew that whatever he'd been hiding for the past few months would be coming up right there in front of you.

He practically collapsed onto the sand, feet set in the water and arms wrapped around his legs, but he quickly pulled himself away from the shore, just like you had earlier, once the memories began to feel too real. You sat right by his side and looked off to the dark horizon. The two of you stared with broken hearts. "Have you gone to see him?"

There was silence, apart from the gentle lapping of the waves and the village in the distance. "No," he regretfully looked down at his lap. "Have you?"

You shook your head, "No." Your response wasn't much better.

For as much as the two of you missed him, neither of you had gone to the Spirit Tree like the rest of the Suli family. The only images of Neteyam that you had left were the memories still burned into your vision. “I’m afraid to forget him,” Lo’ak admitted. He bit the inside of his cheek. “But I’m too scared to see him again.”

You looked to him with sympathetic eyes. For the first time since his brother’s death, Lo’ak broke. Three tears left a trail down his face to where they dropped off his skin and onto the sand. “I don’t know much about spirits,” you began. You set a firm, reassuring hand on Lo’ak’s shoulder. “But Neteyam loved us with all his heart. Even as he rests with the Great Mother, he loves us.”

He tried to nod along to your words as if he would better believe them. Lo’ak gently gasped before a quiet, broken sob left his throat, “I know it’s my fault.” His shoulders heaved. “If I hadn’t made him go back for Spider or- or if I stayed behind instead of him..”

“Oh, Lo’ak,” you cooed, turning towards him and engulfing him in a hug. He leaned his forehead down onto your shoulder. This was the first comfort he’d felt in months. “We can’t tell ourselves those things.”

His tears collected on your skin. “My brother,” he whimpered, “is gone.”

Your fingers gently caressed the back of his head, tracing over his braids. You shushed him, “There’s nothing we can do.” How could you affirm this to Lo’ak when you couldn’t even accept it yourself? You pulled away so you could look him in the eyes.

“I miss him too much.” Lo’ak wept.

Holding his face between your gentle hands, you nodded. Together, your tears soaked the sand beneath you; the two of you could’ve created an entire ocean. “I miss him, too, paskalin.” Your thumb soothed cheek and wiped away the tears from his eyes. “But we must stay strong for him.

“All we can do is remember. One day, we’ll be strong enough to see him, I know it. But for now, we must be strong,” You put your hand over his heart. The beat of his soul turned steady; you remembered how Neteyam’s slowed to a stop, and for the first time since his death, you pushed the memory away without a single tear. “In here.”

Lo’ak closed his eyes and calmed his breath, allowing the feeling of your palm on his skin to soothe him. He’d opened himself and poured out his heart. Now, he could heal.

The night continued on, and you stayed with Lo’ak throughout the dark reign. He could take however long he needed. You would comfort him through whatever war he created in his mind. The tide came in, brushing water against your knees, but the two of you remained.

Finally, he opened his eyes. “We should return to the village.” Before, Lo’ak spoke bluntly with a dismissive mask to cover how broken he truly was. Now, his voice was firm and strong.

“Are you sure?” You warned. He stood and you cautiously rode with him.

His hands, which had been balled in tense fists, released themselves. Lo’ak nodded, “I’ve been too focused on my brother that I’ve forgotten the rest of my family. Do you think they’ll forgive me?”

With a sweet, proud smile, you offered, "They already have."

──

The path back to the village was peaceful given that you and Lo'ak had come to terms with your grief. He had warned you that his parents would most likely be angry when you returned since it'd been hours since they'd last seen you and days since they'd seen him. You'd consoled him, "We'll get through it together."

It was strange that in Neteyam's absence, you and Lo'ak were able to replace the void with each other. Although he was only a year younger, you'd always felt a sisterly love for him, the same way that you felt for Kiri or Tuk. Now that your connection with Lo'ak had healed, maybe you could too.

Life ahead was beginning to look a little brighter in that moment as you walked on the shore.

But your peace was short-lived.

The village was close enough that you could see the pods, docks, and several Metkayina men with glowing lanterns that noticed you and Lo'ak approaching. They called out and, together, the two of you rushed to them.

"What is wrong?" Lo'ak prodded, trying to look past their broad shoulders at the commotion that was collecting in the village.

You tried as well but they were too tall compared to you. "You must come with us," one of the men said. The flames in the lanterns gently flickered but you could well enough see Kiri running in the distance. Her eyes were wide with fear like she'd seen a ghost.

"Kiri!" You exclaimed.

She pushed past the men and, out of breath, embraced Lo'ak. "Brother!" There were tears falling from her eyes, only you had expected her to happily cry at the sight of Lo'ak. Instead, she wept. "You must come. Come, (y/n)."

Kiri led you both back to the village, the men following after you to provide light. Almost every person in Awa'atlu--man, woman, young, and old--crowded near the shore. They yelled and gasped, cursing and praying. The three of you struggled to push past everyone, accidentally stepping on tails and toes and bumping elbows and shoulders.

Everyone seemed to look at you and Lo'ak with sympathy. Lo'ak sensed it as well, and looked just as confused as you were.

The crowd was like a hurricane, and in the center, the eye was calm. Jake and Neytiri kneeled on the ground, Tuk crying into her father's arm. Tonowari, Ao'nung, and a collection of soldiers held the people back. Ronal sat across from Neytiri, muttering a prayer with her eyes shut. Kiri ran to her mother's side. Tsireya rushed to Lo'ak as he collapsed.

Your heart stopped.

On the ground, where the ocean met the sand, a figure laid. He had strong legs and arms, a strapping abdomen, and calloused palms and fingers. There was a scar on the outside of his right thigh. Tanhì scattered across his body like the constellations reflected on the ocean.

Your prince. His ghost would forever haunt you. What had you done wrong? What had you done for the Great Mother to curse you like this? Just as you could feel your wounds beginning to heal, your heart crumbled again.

You fell to your knees, placing your hand over your mouth to cover the ear-splitting wail you released. You could fully see your Neteyam now. Just as you had remembered it, but his eyes were gently shut. Neytiri cried alongside you, and your heart almost broke even further until you heard her whisper, "Thank you, Great Mother. Thank you."

What was she grateful for? Jake noticed your confusion, and with a hopeful smile, he took your hand and placed it on Neteyam's heart. Underneath the weight of your palm, you felt a gentle pulse. A steady, soft rhythm that rocked your core. Your tears stopped, a cry stuck in your throat.

You looked down to his body and gasped. "Oeyä tìyawn," you whispered out to him, hoping he would hear it. Through just two words, your voice called out to him.

Golden eyes, that you thought you would never see again, opened.

His father gasped; his mother laughed; his sisters cheered, and his brother bowed with his forehead touching the ground. Neteyam's mighty heartbeat reached across Pandora.

"Ma 'Teyam," you smiled. You could taste your own tears as they reached the corners of your mouth. For the first time in months, you weren't crying from a split in your heart--you cried at the feeling of it healing. You were foolish to think the Great Mother would curse you. "Thank you, Great Mother."

Only two minutes had passed until you noticed the laughter and cheers of others had disappeared. The night had become silent again. Your smile fell when you recognized that Neteyam had not yet embraced you. In fact, he stayed frozen on the ground.

His eyes were still open, but they were wide and full of fear. Tuk reached for his hand, and he quickly pulled away with a scared gasp. He flinched when his own mother caressed his cheek. "Neteyam," she pleaded. Finally, his eyes met yours. You looked to him with desperate affection, practically shooting beams of love towards him. Your stomach dropped when you noticed it.

Your prince did not know who you were.

taglist: @m4nd0l0r @slythermania @angrypomeranianwifey @afro-hispwriter @neteyamsgirll @sopiasleeps @sassy-persona @islamovice17 @danyxthirstae01 @argentnoble @ilovehotd @freyabear @vxncxntt @loquatious-josephi-krakousky @virginslutsstuff @brooklynscherry-z @elvyshiarieko @sharni07 @sillyfreakfanparty @23victoria @froglogblog @neteyamoa @lilprettypetite @littlecurlyhairedbabe @theflowerofpandora @howcl @hlhl99 @dreamergirljen @tejas-kris @osumarusjade

[dollfaced-erin]

𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟'𝕤 ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕖 (Blade x F!Reader x Jing Yuan)

warning ! Angst !

PART 1

A Vidyadhara's most telling and distinctive feature is their pointed, sharp ears. A long-lived species, Vidyadhara molt after living for six or seven hundred years, repairing their bodies then hatching anew from pearl-like eggs with their memories wiped.

That is, if they do return to Scalegorge Waterscape for the self reincarnating process.

What if...they remain dormant for who knows how long ?

Everything was dark. She couldn't see anything. It was cold, like she was submerged in a sea of ice, all alone, without warmth or light to guide her through.

Then...she opened her eyes, to see...a glimmer of light, distant from her. Her memories, perhaps ?

Her earliest memory...was the voice of a young boy calling out to his aide.

"She hatched !" the young boy called out.

"Young Master, it's not wise to..." an older voice said, stopping midsentence. "She's...she has horns and a tail as well...?"

In that blurry light, she saw two figures hovering over her, so close yet so far...a young boy with...long dark hair and sticks on his head, and an old man with greying hair and red clothes. They seemed...awfully familiar...

"Can you hear me ? You're my sister now !" the young boy said happily, though she understood not of what he meant by that.

"Young master !" the old man chided, sighing with a soft laugh leaving his tired lips.

Then...it was dark again...

"My Lady ! You mustn't !" a voice of an older woman called out.

The figure was blurry too. But she had a sense of warmness flooding her. This sense of...safeness and...familiarity. Though she couldn't see the woman's face, she knows she knew this woman.

"What would your brother say if he saw you ?" the older woman chided, coming closer to that source of blurry sight. The woman was much taller than her, as she had to look up to see the blurred out face of the older woman.

"He wouldn't say anything ! He would just laugh and say 'oh, just leave her be. She's just having a little fun'." her own young voice said.

Then...it was dark again.

"Please Dan Feng ! You must do it. We cant leave him to die ! Not like this ! Please, take my bone marrow !" a familiar female voice sobbed.

"We cant leave him to die. Not when it was our fault to begin with !"

It was her own voice.

And as she opened her eyes again, it was much clearer than any other visions she had earlier. But it was the worst she could've hoped to see. A man...with white hair...down on the ground before her as she kneeled. A man next to her with dark hair and horns on his head. Tears were streaming down his teal eyes as he looked at her.

"I..." he whispered. He looked sorrowfully at the body of the man before them, growing lifeless as they spoke. Then he nodded.

"I understand. For you, I shall endure all punishments." the man, Dan Feng replied.

"Please...when I reincarnate, give me this jade pendant. It shall remind me of who I was and who to find..." she said.

A horrible pain tore through the back of the woman in the void, as she screamed in agony and suffering. The woman in the void screamed as she curled up in that void, shutting her eyes tight. The pain...was unbearable. The feeling of talons digging into her, pulling out a large chunk from her, made her want to choke and cry.

But the suffering and guilt in her heart was enough to overpower any pain of giving up, shoving it back to the depths of her mind. The pain of losing a loved one due to their stubbornness.

And a warm feeling engulfed her hand.

"(Y/n)..." a distorted voice called from afar.

(Y/n) ? Is that her name ?

"(Y/n)...wake up..." the voice called out again.

"This is all just a dream. Wake up."

And as she opened her eyes once again, her vision was fully clear, as she was staring up at a ceiling. Her (e/c) eyes were wide as she panted, trying to calm down her erratic heart. She felt no pain in her back anymore, but it felt...so real.

But she didn't know this place. And...she was laying down, facing the unfamiliar ceiling. Beneath her...it was soft and cold...

"Dan Jia...?" a familiar voice called out. "Can you hear me...? Are you really...awake...?

The woman instinctively turned to the voice, and as she had suspected, the warmth engulfing her hand was none other than another human. Another human who held her hand from the corner of the casing her body was rested in. A casing full of blue flowers, acting as a mattress for her body.

A man with long and messy white hair...and such...warm honey gold eyes...a deep and suave voice full of gentleness at times and fierceness at some.

The lion...she had registered him in her memories.

"Jing Yuan..." the woman softly whispered, her voice hoarse from years and decades and centuries of unuse.

Though that name was familiar to her, that name wasn't her.

"I'm...not Dan Jia. I'm (Y/n)..."

Yet another one from his memories had changed their identity.

Jing Yuan looked at her, blinking a little in shock. His mouth was left agape, unknowing how to respond to what she said. But he gathered himself back, and smiled at her warmly.

"Yes, my mistake. Good morning, (Y/n)..."

[danibee33]

The Queen’s Guard

*COD medieval au - Simon Riley x reader

cw: arranged marriage, dark themes, attempted sa & non-graphic sa but pls *read at your own discretion*, gore/violence, sexual themes, etc.

word count: 1.1k

“Again.”

You can’t help but to flinch at the sound of swords being drawn; it rings in your ears, echos in the recesses of your brain. The piercing, metallic clangs resound throughout the room-

How long had you been here, anyway? Judging from the sunlight that peers through the high transom windows, its golden rays giving the great hall an ethereal sort of glow, it must be nearing time for dinner-

“I’ve seen enough, thank you.”

With a dismissive wave, you rise from the bronze throne and turn on your heel, eyes focused straight ahead, fixated on the intricate carvings in the doors, your escape just within reach-

“Your Grace..”

General Leon’s voice is laced with exasperation and warning, and your long history with him is the only reason you halt, your handmaid nearly bumping into you as you turn again- the young woman struggling to rearrange the ridiculous train on your gown as the man speaks,

“You cannot continue on without a Queen’s Guard- His Grace demands the position be filled.”

Oh, of course. How thoughtful of your kind husband. The husband who only sees you when the physicians deem you fertile enough to produce an heir. The husband who you’re not even sure could pick your face in a crowd because he only ever fucks you from behind, your face pushed down into the animal furs beneath you.

The husband who killed your last guard, gods rest his soul.

Yes, I’m sure he’s very concerned for my safety..

You give a heavy sigh, fighting the urge to roll your eyes as you feel the placating smile tug at your lips; the one you’re so, so good at. The practiced smile that puts everyone in the room at ease, the one you’ve perfected in your relatively short existence of being groomed for this very life.

The life everyone dreams of, a life of royalty, of the highest privilege and power- how little they truly know.

“Of course, please, let us meet the next one then.”

Taking your place upon the throne once again, you sit properly, prim and demure, just like you were taught. The very picture of perfection in your emerald colored silks, not a single hair out of place-

Yet, inside, you were wasting away, your thoughts boiling and raging, your anger smoldering just under the surface, like a vein of coal in the earth that’s been lit aflame- the embers never dying, but never able to turn into the inferno they so wishe to be.

You don’t bother to spare your gaze when the doors open with a low groan, the quiet footfalls that enter the space only really given away by the shifting of chainmail and armor.

They’re confident strides, you notice- long and steady, and without even seeing him yet, you can feel the energy shift around you, his presence seeming to fill every available void,

“Ser Simon Riley, Your Grace.”

With one look, you’re utterly struck by the imposing man walking towards you- shoulders and hips swaying with each deliberate step, left hand resting lazily on the hilt of his long-sword.

His armor plates are dark, obsidian in hue, so different from the usual flashy silver you see everywhere you look. He is a looming shadow in front of you, somehow as wide as he is tall, if that were possible- and his eyes. The skin around them have been smudged with kohl, making the mottled amber of his irises look preternatural, his unmoving gaze entirely focused on you, even when he bows,

“Your Majesty.”

Your mind screams danger, much like it would if a fully grown wolf had just sauntered through the doors, looking for its next meal- and yet, for as much fear as he inspires, there’s something that draws you in- like a siren singing to sailors lost at sea.

Returning his gesture, you gently nod, holding his eyes until the General calls him back to assume a fighting stance; and even then, you swear you see his head tilt just so, just enough to flash you an arrogant look as the guard takes his place across from him. Ser Simon must easily stand a head and a half taller than the other man, you think, his figure even more impressive than it was before.

The men exchange nods before drawing swords, their dance beginning the same as all the others, assessing and calculating each other until the guard makes the first move-

The heavy whoosh of his blade is dodged with little effort, the giant wraith of a man moving far faster than any of you expected. He gracefully ducks under the other’s still outstretched arm, placing himself in the perfect position to swing his own sword towards his opponent's exposed neck- a maneuver surely meant to behead if this were anything other than a mock duel.

“Reset-”

“No.” You stand abruptly, stepping down from the throne much to your own surprise, “Ser Simon, what experience do you have as a Royal Guard?”

“Your Grace, this is-”

With a raised hand, you quiet the General, watching the mysterious knight sheath his sword once more, bowing again as he faces you,

“None, Your Majesty.”

Well, at least he’s honest.

“What experience do you have then?”

His head tilts to the side, and you watch the other guards tense when he takes a single step closer, those damned eyes gleaming down at you with a hunger you’ve never quite seen before,

“Battle, Your Grace. I’ve seen far more than most.”

This time, it’s you moving towards him, and when you step closer, the Kingsguard follows suit, though it seems nothing goes unnoticed by the towering specter.

“Well, Ser, I do not go into battle.. You might be better suited for my husband’s army, no?”

You watch the very corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, his gaze narrowing in amusement, and you’re positive you would see a devilish smile on his lips if he removed the helmet,

“I might.” He says flippantly, broad shoulders shrugging as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, “But, I came here to serve you, My Queen.”

A deep and burning chill blooms in your core at his words and the resolute way he says them; it lights every nerve on fire, every cell and molecule, every atom in your being vibrating at a frequency you’ve never felt as the title rolls off his gilded tongue.

No, you’ve never met a man quite like this, and part of you questions if he truly is just a man at all- because no man has ever felt like this, no man has ever been able to pick you apart so quickly, make you feel bare with just his gaze alone.

He terrifies you as much as he excites you, and oh, how you’ve longed to feel something other than loathing, and boredom.

There is nothing practiced or placating about the smirk on your lips now as you nod toward your General, your handmaid once again adjusting the cumbersome fabric of your gown as you move forward-

“Well, you’ve gotten your wish, Ser Simon.” You coo as you breeze past him without a parting glance, “General Leon, make sure my guard is taken to his new quarters, will you?”

They fall into a sweeping bow as you exit, a quiet acknowledgement being the last thing you hear before the deep pulsing of your own heartbeat fills your ears.

What in the seven hells have I done..

[chapter 2 >>>]

[jaylleoo14]

An Indirect confession 

Unbeknownst to his knowledge of those simple words

>GN!ReaderxJade

A/N: For those who don't know, in Poetry there’s this thing where if you ask someone if the moon is beautiful it basically is an indirect way of saying “i love you.” And if the other person agrees then they are basically reciprocating and its mutual, so I guess you can get the gist of where this is going >:) muehehe (also sorry if the writing is kinda dry 😭My brain juices were not juicing 😔) This is also pretty lengthy so I apologize for the long read ^^;

[wc] 12.2k words

[disclaimer] Jade 

[characters] Jade, Ortho, Deuce, Jack, Grim, Floyd, Azul

Normally students tend to avoid going to Octavinelle, the dorm that seems notorious for its shady under swept deals and the students residing there seeming to be all hushed and tight lipped about certain information. Some things they shouldn't know, yet they do and it makes you wonder how exactly they get such information. Yet one thing is undeniable, and it's the fact that they have a great cafe which tends to be overpriced, but usually of befitting prices for what they serve and provide. 

Mostro Lounge, a chic sea themed cafe which is managed by Azul Ashengrotto and runned with students from all other dorms who seek to make extra cash. Its meals and tableware, everything from the music to the decor and the overall vibe was perfect for one to leisurely dine in and perhaps hang out and study. The calming hues of blue and purple, a shimmering accent of silver which compliments the place helps create a nice pleasant place and provides a great aesthetic. It surely did look pretty and elegant, the food there being just as delicious and the drinks delightful as the jazzy music sets in the vibes. 

Nov - 12, XXXX

It was during the colder season where the sun usually starts to set earlier and the days would be shorter, the nights getting longer to be able to view the starry sky. Although not too late, the moon had already risen and was in full view. You sat near the glass wall where a full display of the waters were open and of view to you, nothing letting it shy away from watching eyes. Nothing roamed in the waters as you can make out, the only thing lighting up the dark void passed the glass being the lights illuminating the room you currently were dining in. Different colored corals and sea plants can be seen wavering around on the floor-the currents making it wave around slightly, its movements kind of enchanting you as you zone out for a bit watching the steady pacing. 

“If you aren’t going to eat your food then I call dibs!” Grim exclaims right at the same time he snatches up your plate of food, to which you ordered some simple and light vermicelli noodles. The bowled plate is taken away and you didn’t even seem to mind honestly. The soothing jazz music, the calm night in the lounge, and the background noises of side conversations from other students which can be heard as the workers walk by to drop off their orders or bust their tables. It was almost lulling you into a state of drowsiness, the temperature just right for you to even take a nap right here and now. 

“Tonight is very nice, don't you think Grim?” You say almost absent mindedly as you continue to stare at the empty waters. Your form is still like a doll as you keep your eyes on the glass pane window. 

“Because you’re treating me out for food? Heck ya! Nyahaha!” His response only prompts you to roll your eyes and a smirk spreads across your face as you sarcastically shake your head. 

“Yea well maybe I won't next time. After all, what are the chances of you getting all full marks on Crewel's potionology test?” Grim can only respond with a confident and upbeat response, ensuring that he is bound to continue to excel and this was just the beginning. You can only scoff but in all honesty, you can't deny that you were indeed proud of him for being able to reach a perfect score. 

And if it weren’t for Jade’s help Grim wouldn’t have done so well. 

“Are you enjoying your night here in our humble dorm, Prefect?”

Speak of the devil. Jade comes up with a hand placed over his chest, giving you his signature smile as you turn to look at him, your head no longer facing the pane glass wall. Grim is engrossing himself in the food, perhaps the reason why he isn't feeling too timid with his presence at the moment.

“Surprisingly.” Your answer was short and blunt, but it was enough for Jade to chuckle a little as he finds amusement in your rather tired honesty. 

“Well I’m pleased to know that you are enjoying yourself in our lovely sanctuary (y/n),” his usual politeness being one of his main outward characteristically point. A yawn escapes from your mouth, placing a hand over to try and show courtesy and politeness as you nod your head to his response, not being so responsive. 

“You seem to be quite exhausted, Prefect, perhaps you should start heading back. Or if you want, we can lend you a room. For a certain price of course.” You don't even need to look at him to know that he has this sly little smile plastered on his face until Grim interjects before you can respond.

“Nyah, we actually prefer to go back to Ramshackle now that we are done eating, right my henchman?” 

“Once I’m done with my drink, then we’ll head back,” and just as you said, you reached over to cup the blue wine glass that was filled halfway with a fruity and sweet concoction of juices that danced on your tongue when you took a sip. Wanting to occupy yourself with something, you play around with the metal tube as you proceed to enclose your lips around the straw to take a generous sip of the beverage. Its taste was able to freshen you somewhat as you closed your eyes and relaxed a little on the leather seat, the smell granting you a satisfied hum. Grim next to you could only whine for you to hurry up - not wanting to stay any longer in the presence of one of the eel twin, but just to play around spitefully you purposely started to drink a lot slower and Jade can only watch as he’s always done and squint his eyes a little as his smile widens. 

Jade’s attention is brought onto the glass wall that he noticed you were staring at before, looking up only to be met with the glimmering silver that soaks into the waters swaying waves. The full moon looks back down at him as he continues to stand in front of your booth, continuing to sip your drink as Grim starts to lay next to you to take a nap.

“The moon is quite beautiful tonight, don't you think Prefect?” He says it ever so calmly, saying those words as if to spark another conversation with you. Though it only prompts you to start coughing and hacking as you accidentally slurped in your drink a bit too fast and it ended up going to the wrong pipe. You’re practically hurled over, hitting your chest as you wipe your mouth and Jade can only watch with wide eyes.

“Nyahh!? What happened?!” Grim springs up from the sudden jerking motion of your coughing figure and you clench the ledge of the table sitting at the end of the cushion.

“My, did I say something out of the ordinary (y/n)?” Once you look up to find his full attention on you, you can only try to calm down and inhale a breath as his display of a friendly smile bore into you. Why are you making such a big deal? It’s not like those words had any meaning in this world, so there's no need to be making such a big deal (y/n)!

You’re quite embarrassed honestly, especially because you thought he just confessed right then and there. But of course, that can't be the case because those words don't mean anything in this world like it does in yours. Quickly reaffirming yourself in your head, you let out another cough to clear your throat and catch your breath. 

“A-Ah, no uhm, I thought I misheard you is all haha. But ahem, I would say that tonight is rather lovely haha.” And you try to regain your composure as you divert your eyes and finish up with your drink. A small hum can be heard from Jades tall figure as he places his fist over his mouth. “Well, I see you are rather more awake now. Pray do tell what you misheard, I am curious to know what got you so worked up dear Prefect.” 

Your cheeks are only decorated in more of a slightly deeper shade of red, and suddenly the straw is very interesting to look at as you twirl it around in between your gloveless fingers. “You won’t get it, it won't make sense anyways. Just some nonsense.” You can only wave your hand dismissively and he can't help but grow even more intrigued as your brows furrow and you continue to brush it off.

“How unfortunate you can’t seem to try and help me understand, even though I went through all the trouble to help you and Grim with your studies. I find that rather unfair especially since I see that you two have bore fruit in your success due to my aid.” 

His words help you gain back your composure, resteeling yourself as you straighten your back and shoot him a placate smile. “Hmm? Whatever do you mean Jade? I’m paying you back by visiting you and dining at the place you work at so you can gain income. I think that’s plenty enough to repay you.” He only squints just slightly at you in response and you’re pretty sure you can feel as if you’ve triggered something in him be it good or bad - that's something you don't really wanna find out though.

“Oya? You came to see me specifically? I don't see it as a valid reason enough considering that's how one would usually repay others when they are indebted to them.”

You slightly pout at him, and as usual Jade always seems to counter your attempt of being sly and snarky with his own silver coated tongue. “Whaaat? Are you saying my visit isn’t enough for you? How could you, even though I came all this way just to see YOU specifically.” You lean into the cushion almost dramatically and animated to further emphasize your offended playful nature. 

He seems to be fairly accustomed to your playfulness and responds accordingly. “Although you claim to come over to Octavinelle to come visit me specifically, I account this is the first we are talking since you made your appearance. I believe Floyd has interacted with you more than I have today.” 

“Okay well point is, I still came over for you. And to express my thanks I was helping the profit of the Mostro Lounge. Not only will you benefit but Azul would greatly appreciate my patronage! Plus, Floyd is happy knowing I'm here. See? Everyone’s happy!”

Finding the littlest details possible, you make it as important as ever. But Jade is not fooled by your little over exaggeration and nitpicking. Of course, one would know another's tricks well when they themselves do it. And he seems to find great entertainment from the way you carry on with this drag. He truly does feel a sort of fondness for you with the way that you are. Not that he’s ever said however. 

“Are you assuming that I am satisfied with what you’ve offered me?” When you look up at him you can see the way his eyes look more meticulous now, as if he’s observing your every move. Dissecting you piece by piece as he awaits for your response, patiently waiting for when he could strike and counter your words. You leave your mouth slightly agape for a moment thinking carefully for what your next words were to be, carefully trying to see what you could say in response - however the pressure of having to hurry and say something quick overrides you because if you don't, then it would be like you couldn’t match up to him. Not like you could ever, but it wasn’t a nice feeling when you let others know they have a winning upperhand. And he seemed to relish knowing that you were feeling this pressure from the way he was looking at you.

“I am assuming you aren’t dissatisfied with it.” Putting up an undeterred front, you do your best to try and keep a steel-like straight face as you stare at his mismatched eyes. 

With the way his eyes go back to their non-disturbing look you can only assume you satisfied him with your play of trying to be undisturbed. The tension is then suddenly broken when Grim lets out a complaint, saying how he’s tired already and that he just wants to go home now. Sprawled over your thighs as his back lays against them as if he was putty, an unprompted sigh escapes your mouth and you pick up grim in your arms, standing up as you begin to excuse yourself. 

“Goodnight then Jade, I’ll excuse myself now.” 

“And as is the same to you, pleasant dreams to you Prefect.”And with that, Jade goes ahead and picks up the empty porcelain dishes and the glass cup, remnants of eaten food and a little puddle of liquid to show it had been put to its intended use. 

‘I came all this way to see YOU specifically.’ Your words replay in his head as he walks back to the kitchen, a slight sulky pout on his face to which no one is able to witness. 

“I wish you could say that more often my dear (y/n).” Setting them down into the sink, the water runs as he turns on the faucet. The pressurized water splashes as the dishes make contact and he can only stare down at it as he begins to think of you. A little susurrus naturally slipped out under his breath as the sound of running water deafened his words of one sided longing. “Hmm, it seems that they were trying to avoid agreeing about the moon… ” 

On the walk back to your dormitory, Grim looks up at you from where you hold him in your arms. “Hey Henchman, did Jade say something funny back there?” 

Looking down at him, the pale ashen color of the moon's rays blanketing you both as it illuminates your path, you can only give him a slightly wide eyed response. “It’s nothing. Just something from my world is all. What he said about the moon, it means something in my world…” Your voice can only trail off as you think back to the incident, the familiar expression of embarrassment starting to bubble up again as your face heats up to which you can't help but bury your face in Grims fur as you recall what a stupid reaction you must’ve given. Grim is grumbling and complaining as you indulge in his fuzziness, seeming a bit shocked and confused from your sudden outburst. “Yer squeezin’ me ahhh!”

Loosening your grip on him, he lets out a dying wheeze as if he finally escaped from a crushed boulder on top of him. The sound of your shoes walking softly on the ground fills the air aside from the huff you let out as you try and sort yourself out. 

You’re overreacting here (y/n), Jade doesn’t love you. He doesn’t even know what those words mean! And even if he did it’s not like you love him either. Though that simple phrase was enough to have you thinking about him the entire walk back, perhaps going to give you some sweet dreams just as how he wished you back when you left. 

He definitely knew what he was doing-as the leech he is-was able to slither his way into your thoughts as planned and stick there. Something similar to a parasyte as one can compare. The way he just sticks in your head as you now roll in bed, constantly replaying his words. Why do you keep replaying these words? Why does your heart race when you replay the scene in your head over and over again and you remember how his voice sounded? Why were you starting to make random scenarios in your head, visualizing him and you wa- SNAP OUT OF IT (Y/N)! 

Sure no ones ever said those words to you before but you have to remember that it means nothing! So what if the moon is beautiful? That's all there is! You must be crazy if you think you may be coming down with something regarding that little slimy eel. He doesn’t know what those words mean anyways, why would he say that to you?

Point is, he doesn't know. End of discussion!

. . .

He knows. 

Oh he soooo knows, though you don’t know he knows. At least, not yet.

Moving the pawn over to create space for the castle to move, Jade makes his move while hovering over the wooden chess pieces. Closely calculating every piece carefully despite there being no other attentive player on the other side. Not wanting to catch your attention like a snake hunting for its prey, he goes ahead and advances forward quietly.

Nov - 6, XXXX 

“Deuce! Jack! W-wait up for me, please!” You tiredly try to jog towards Deuce and Jack, though you would say it's less of jogging and more so walking at a jagged pace. Sweat drips down your form, drenching you and stains of sweat are pitted on your underarms and chest. You slow down, bending over as you place your hands on your knees to catch your breath. The sun's rays washing over the lands as you three stand beneath it, its heat adding onto more of excretion of sweat. 

“N-Never again. You two are trying to kill me!” Huffing and gasping desperately, Deuce comes over to pat your shoulder in hopes of comforting you. His hand placed softly atop of your draping shoulder as he slightly bent down to your crouched figure. “Sorry (y/n), I didn’t consider how today's club session would be like for people who aren’t accustomed to running so much at a consistent rate.” You can tell by the tone of voice that he genuinely felt guilty having you get put up with all that running, and Vargas being Vargas was not so lenient. 

“My feet are in so much pain. It feels comparable to wearing heels the entire day, I hate this so much.” A feigned sob is ushered out and as the reliable person he is, Jack comes over to try and comfort you as well. “I can lend you an arm if it helps. Really, you should have expected that much running at least when you offered to come participate in the track and field club.” To be fair, you only came because Deuce wanted you to check out the club in hopes that you’d be interested in joining. So you gave it a shot.

Never again. Jack shakes his head as if scolding a little child and the sound of him clicking his tongue can be heard, his brazen feathered white locks of hair swishing from side to side as he jerks his head. 

“I can lend you my arm as well! Please don't hesitate to ask for my help if you need it (y/n)! I’ll gladly let you rely on me.” Deuce’s sweet fluffy voice reminding you of a newborn hatched chick makes you soften up a bit, and despite being so sweaty you went ahead and latched onto Deuce as his offer seemed much more friendly and welcoming. He seemed to not mind it though, and Jack seems to not care whether or not you planned on relying on him. Though you acknowledge his outwardness to help. With a settled huff, you three began to walk down the dirt path that maps out the campus. 

“Maybe my feet hurt because I don't have the proper footwear.”

“Your preparation skills are even worse than I thought (y/n).”

“Look, what's done is already done okay? No need to keep saying stuff that would get me into a dour mood Jack.”

“You’re right, I didn’t mean to restate the obvious then if you’ve already acknowledged it.”

His words just make you hit him slightly on the arm, not in a hurtful way but a hit that was as light as when the waves would crash onto your feet in the sand. He didn’t mean to sound ill willed, but he has his ways of showing concern for those he cares about. He grimaces for a bit but simply overlooks it knowing that was just your usual play, noticing the way his ears would twitch from your usual playfulness - you guys had a comfortable dynamic and it showed.

“If you don't have any proper footwear, we can go stop by Sam’s shop and buy you some.”

Deuce suggestion diverts your attention back onto him, your arms still linked together as you lean on him for support while you stagger off, giving him a reaffirming nod. He seemed pleased to be of help to you, as if fulfilling the role of a good friend. 

 “Yea, let's go. I need to buy me some new socks anyways.”

“Socks? Not shoes?” 

“I don't think the problem is with my shoes. Although it may not be all the best to comfort me in running, it still gets the job done.”

Jack can only look down to observe your shoes as if to analyze what you said is true, trying to identify whether or not your words support your claim. His yellow sunset gaze which could be compared to how the sun's rays shined is heating you all right now as it bores down on you.

“Jack, before you say anything. Don't.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Don't look at my shoes, I’m poor okay. I feel like you’re secretly judging me.”

“Not exactly judging per say.”

“See! That doesn't make it any better.” A light chuckle originates from Jack as he playfully looks over to you, a small smile soon cracking on his caramel skinned face as his voice dies down. 

“How are you feeling Prefect?” A firm hand is now gripped on the other side of your shoulder, the feeling of your sweaty and sticky body meshing with your clothes as your scent muddles in with the fibers making up the cloth hugging your figure. Deuce has been walking alongside you now for the entirety of your guys walk as you head towards Sam's Shop, still quite a distance away. Feeling the need to check in on you, he continues to firmly lay his hand on your shoulder to better comfort you. 

“Deuce, you’re so considerate. I feel like I might just let out a heartfelt sob for how sweet you’re being right now.” You let out a feigned exasperated sigh - in response though Deuce’s reaction is one of surprise which you could feel without even looking at the way his body stiffens a little.

“E-Eh? This really is nothing though (y/n), you’re in pain after all. It would only be natural to help someone in need.”

“True, but you know this really helps a lot. I’m in so much pain, I practically don't wanna walk anymore.” 

“You’re over exaggerating a bit,” A little quip response from Jack makes you pout and shake your head to show you denied it. 

“Not true! Gosh if I had a significant other or something I'm sure they wouldn’t mind carrying me! Ah the convenience of having someone like that.”

“Do you really think they’d do something like that for you?” 

“Would you do that for your significant other?”

And without a second thought, he immediately answers. Only then does he seem to find how meaningless his question was upon answering yours. 

“I think having a significant other would be nice, but I don't think that's something I am trying to actively pursue right now.” Deuce chimes in his own thoughts and you let out a little laugh which also chimes just as beautifully.

“I think you’d need to be better at talking to girls first before you even consider trying to pursue one.” Light hearted laughter airs around you as you lean into his arm, your shoulders bumping up rhythmically. 

“W-wha-!”

“The last time you talked to a girl, or tried to court one - if you can even call it that - was the ghost that kidnapped Idia.”

Deuce sputters out, feeling a sense of embarrassment as you tease him about his interactions with the ghost bride, his face burning a bright red like the cards in which glossed a new coat of red paint on white roses. Besides you both, Jack takes into consideration your walking speed. He truly was showing consideration in his own way and it was something you didn't mind at all, in fact it made you feel appreciative for what he was doing. He would be leaving the two of you in the dust if he wanted to, only showing that he does indeed care about you. Deuce does the same of course, considering you are latching onto him for support as you stagger about. 

“I would understand why Deuce would just freeze up like that. When it comes to expressing those types of feelings it’s always better to actually be sincere about it.” Jack has always been more on the serious side, always viewing the perception of love as something that should last forever between you and your partner. A sense of loyalty and something not to take lightly of.

Love has many different meanings to it. A vast broad way to make a connotation of sorts which could be related in any way whatsoever. Something that you blatantly already knew of course. “Ok mister love counselor, I get that part alright? Besides, it’s not like you have to actually say you love them, I think it’d be harder to believe if you did say ‘i love you’ though.”

With his ears flattening with your sarcastic remark he should’ve known better than to say something that has at least more than once been thought about. 

“She didn’t require you to say ‘I love you.’ As long as you were a good enough candidate to fit her unrealistic, old fashion, and cliche ideal standards then you’d be good to go.”

“Okay but I meant it in a general sense. Not just for the incident with Eliza.” 

“What do you mean?” His question beckons to be answered as his tail waves from slight confusion, Deuce also sharing a similar if not more confused look. 

“Well if someone told you they loved you in a romantical sense, would you believe them?”

“Am I supposed to doubt them? That’d just be rude and disrespectful to their feelings.”

“Me personally, you could say it would also depend on who's confessing to me.” 

“That's true too Deuce. I could say the same. But I don't know. How could you believe someone who would confess such strong words towards you? I find it a bit surreal.”

“Has anyone ever confessed to you (y/n)?”

“Shut up Jack.”

A low snorkeling chuckle comes out unprompted as he muses himself in your dejected response and Deuce can only shake his head a little from the way the two of you have been slightly bantering with each other. Usually it would be Jack to be the one shaking his head, but you tend to bring out the mischievous and playful side of him. 

“I’m going to take this personally and hope that you also take me not taking your arm personally too.”

Jack is visibly taken aback with your proclamation as his ears perk up. “How childish!” 

“No it's not! You basically just told me that I'm not attractive!”

“Don't put words into my mouth!”

“Or! Perhaps you do have secret admirers and they are too scared to confess (y/n)”

Silence fills the air as you both have failed to think of such a possibility during the small moment of your little bantering, both your heads turning to look at Deuce who gives you guys a more serious face.

Relaxing a bit as Jack and you jaunted down, you go back to your usual casualness as the three of you continue your way to Sams. Your destination is not too far off as you three have been filling the time with conversation, making the walk feel shorter than usual. “Oh that might be true for most people. People may just be scared to confess to others.” 

“I mean you can always indirectly confess you know. A lot of people do that instead of outwardly confessing.” 

Deuce's eyes widen a bit with a type of child's curiosity and it only prompts you to further expand on what you meant. “Do you mean like a love letter?” Jack inquires and gives off from your earlier proposition. 

“Yeah, basically. Or you can say something to convey your feelings to them.” 

“Such as?” Deuce with his ample experience seems to show quite the interest despite stating some time ago that pursuing someone was not something he was actively trying to do. Though he still valued it as something to consider for future references in the case that a situation were to spring up and prompt him to initiate. 

An endearing smile scrawls on your face as you peer over to Deuce, Jack also listening intently as well. All this talking seems to have distracted you from the pain in your feet, but despite your hold on Deuce’s arm loosening you continue to keep your arms linked together anyways as the cool breeze comes to freshen you three up.“Well, there is this saying in poetry back in my world some people were fond of using some time ago. You basically ask someone if the moon is beautiful, and that's basically saying that you love them. If they agree with you then that's them reciprocating your feelings.”

“Ah, really? That’s some interesting and creative way of doing it. I feel like I wouldn’t be able to tell at all and only see it as a regular question though.” Deuce still nonetheless finds it rather intriguing. “Really? I’m sure there must be a saying similar to that here.” As you make it up to the shop, finally arriving after what felt like a short time despite the lengthy conversation, you find a familiar face. 

“Oh, is that? Ortho!” Waving over to Ortho, he reciprocates the friendly gesture and waves back. Seemingly, it appeared that Ortho just came back from some shopping from Sam's shop, quickly walking over in a spring-like gait.

“Ah! It’s (Y/n)(L/n), Deuce Spade, and Jack Howl! What a pleasant surprise to see you guys. Are you guys planning on getting something from Sam's shop?” His friendly personality was warming as usual and he was one of the people here whom you got along fairly well. 

Finally latching off of Deuces arm you decide to give it a try to stand as you also intend to approach Ortho with a welcoming and friendly smile. No longer leaning your weight on Deuce to help support yourself, you wince a little but endure the pain as you apply your usual weight onto your feet. Ortho seems to automatically notice and with the way his brows furrowed to show concern, Deuce and Jack come from behind standing close in the case that something happens.

“Ah prefect, you seem to be in pain! Your pain receptors and heart rate along with your tissue sensors seem to indicate you have a sense of soreness on your feet! Have you been over exerting yourself perhaps?” And as usual, due to Ortho’s inbuilt sensor indicator he seems to be all the more observant about your throb. 

“Aha you could say that. I joined Deuce and Jack in their club today so that's why. So here we are to buy some comfortable socks for me in the near future if this does happen again.”

Your lighthearted laugh doesn't seem to shake off Ortho’s concerned looking face however, so he offers to try and heal you up with some ointment packed on him. You’re grateful really, but you don't really feel all that comfortable taking your shoes and socks off right now in front of your friends after a hearty run.

“Oh no thank you Ortho. I really appreciate it but I’m sure I’d be better with some rest after. On another note, how about you search something up for me?” Your sudden change in topics catches Deuce’s and Jack’s attention as they both stare at your back as if knowing what you plan on asking. 

“Oh sure! If you insist so then I’ll leave you be then Prefect. What is it you wanted me to search up? I can get it in a blast!” His enthusiasm felt infectious and it quirks a small smile on your face despite the enduring pain. His body language conveying as such similar to how a human normally would if not for his obvious robotic decals and constructure. 

“Could you see if this saying means anything? ‘The moon is beautiful, isn't it?’” In a docile manner he quickly gets to it and with a few audible beeping computerized clicks he announces some articles and other works of literature where such a line would be found; similarly fitting the words or having the words exactly but not in a way to express someone's affection for another.

“Ah, I see. So your world really doesn't have that saying around.” You didn’t sound disappointed per-say, but you didn’t really expect much either. Upon noticing your lack of reaction, Ortho tilts his head curiously. 

“What were you hoping to find Prefect? I’m sure whatever it was we can find it together!”

Shaking your head lightly you only cross your arms and let out a slight sigh. “You see, back in (y/n)’s world, that saying is an indirect way to say ‘I love you,’ something you say to confess your feelings apparently.” Jack comes from behind and now to the side of you as he makes his presence more prominent. With an intrigued shine in Ortho’s eyes, he grips on his grocery bag slightly and brings a delighted fist up over to where his mouth would be. 

“Ah! On the way here were you guys perhaps talking about ways to confess to someone?”

“Er, not exactly. The topic kinda just happened as we were talking about how to indirectly confess to someone in general.” Deuce also comes in to step up from behind and by your side now as he too makes his presence more prominent. 

“Oh I see, the topic of love and confessions! How wondrous, should I search for some other ways to indirectly court or express your feelings towards someone?” 

Bringing a hand up to stop Ortho, you give him a little small smile to assure him that it wasn’t needed. “Thanks for the offer Ortho, but that was all I wanted at least. Everythings rather copacetic right now anyways haha.” 

“Anyways, we should better get going since I have some plans later.” Jack begins to announce as he proceeds to walk up and you soon follow after in a wobbly state, though still managing, as Deuce follows behind intentionally there to look out for you in case you’d need assistance. 

“Aww well alright then, it was nice talking to you guys. See you some time!” And with a fleeting goodbye wave, the three of you go ahead and approach Sam’s shop. Ortho now off with a tune playing as he goes down the dirt path road back to Ighynide. 

“Oh? How fascinating. To think such simple words convey tremendous feelings, fufu. Perhaps I should try saying it to them sometime when I have the courage.” Near the building of Sam’s shop, a ludicrous tall shadow looms behind a fairly covered tree.

Sneaking behind one of his towers, Jade picks up one of his pawns and sets it forward, diagonal to yours. Now swallowing and taking out one of your pawns he’s able to decrease your chess pieces. Moving your king further back out of sheer blindness and fear, all to which you know you should protect, Jade proceeds to think of his next move; now eyeing the knights in the back row which was still perfectly not in use aligned with his king and queen. 

Nov - 6, XXXX

“Sometime ago from the mirror chamber over to the botanical garden I saw Jack, Deuce, and my darling pearl (y/n) coming from the field as I made my way. I must admit, I indeed felt irked that they were clinging onto Deuce like that. However I kept my composure and decided to stay hidden and observe, something that I have always reaped benefits from.”

“To continue along, as I was listening to what they were talking about it appears that they were on the subject of how to court someone indirectly. Oh what a valuable insight to what my dearest has to say!”

In the botanical garden there sat the infamous student, Jade Leech. With no one around in the greenery place, there he sat talking to his mushrooms to which he cared for tenderly. In the placement of actual companions who could listen to his lovesick woes and scheming little ploys, it seems that he much prefers talking to his own plants which grow healthily from his careful attentiveness and candid affection. 

“Would my little shrooms care to know what it is my dearest had said?” To no response from the fungi planted in its bed of components, he only lets out a more passionate look to compel more. 

“The only thing they talked about was this saying back in their world. The person who asks if the moon is beautiful is quite frankly another way to profess your love in poetry. If the person who you asked it to agrees then they basically are reciprocating your mutual feelings. Isn’t that lovely?”

No response. If someone were to witness this surely they’d think that Jade would be a little crazy. Not like he’ll let anyone see him in this state though. Lest if they do then pray to the sevens that they would be able to see the next day come.

Adjusting the lighting to perfectly fit the conditions to aid its growth, Jade lets out a beaming smile as he thinks about the two things he tends to show more prominent love aside from his familial relations. You and his mushrooms. 

“If I continue to engage in social interaction with (y/n) then I am positive the likelihood of them returning my feelings would be higher. I’ve been doing so for the past few months now, perhaps I should start planning my confession.”

Sitting on a bench, he slumps in his folded arms ensuring that his head or arms were away from the bedded fungi; the edge of the earthy wooden table. Flashes of your face and scenarios playing in his head arise like a continuous movie film on repeat, the sound of your laughter and the feeling of his heart racing in his chest felt like he was immersed in the movie he was watching. Oh how he could replay them over and over again, a goofy love-stuck smile curling on his face as he buried it deeper into his arms.

“Jade! There ya are!” A sudden voice calls out to him and he springs up from surprise. He didn't hear anyone come in, just how long has he been in his own little world?

“Ah Floyd, what are you doing here?” Standing up from where he sat, he began to approach Floyd as he was coming over towards his way as well. A prime smile on his face yet he looked brighter than ever. 

“Azul needs ya. You’ve been gone for awhile, thought ya went out to the mountains again,” swinging down with a huff as he sits himself on the bench, he leans his head back to give him a rather laid back smile. “Good thing you were in here though, wasn’t plannin’ on tryna get you back all the way from the mountains.” 

“Oh my, did I perhaps lose track of time? Thank you for letting me know Floyd, I'll be sure to hurry along then.” The materialistic multitudes of sound coming together as Jade brushes and pats himself come together to accompany the brightful air around him. “Ah? Yer bein’ all smiley Jade, is it cus of these damn mushrooms or somethin?” 

“You could say it’s part of the reason, Floyd.”

With a click of the tongue and his brows slightly twitching, Floyd bounces up with a swift swing of his legs and starts walking alongside Jade. “Ugh, is it shrimpy again?”

“Gasp! How did you know?” As Jade makes a feigned gasp and his hand placed over his mouth, Floyd can only roll his eyes and shake his head from his fake and obvious display of faux surprise. “Urgh, keep yer lovey-dovey thoughts to yerself. I aint tryna hear all that sappy and weird stuff again.” 

“Oh dear, and here I thought you actually secretly liked to hear my woes Floyd.” With the both of them now walking off, Floyd and Jade start to talk about other affairs as they head back to Mostro Lounge.

Without realizing it, you move your castle over and take out his pawn resting on the black squares making up the chessboard. Too infatuated with his own plans, he fails to see you make a move with your knight and you proceed to place it on a white square. Ready to defend what you have left or ready to steal his pieces. 

Nov - 8, XXXX

The indifferent sounds of inharmonious male voices fill up the school halls as they go by their constructed schedule of schooling. Classes are left empty momentarily as students leave to head on and transition over to their next subject whether it be magic history or astrology, or perhaps they may skip and find the chance to slack off. 

A diversity of students are scrambling around and covering the school grounds, if seen above it might be like seeing a field of colorful jelly beans laid out on a structured maze platform. Stepping out of the classroom which is labeled at the top “1-A,” you and Grim along with many others go by the schedule as well; stepping out of the classrooms to head on over to their next classes. 

“Raaah~! I almost fell asleep there. Can you believe we’re gonna have an upcoming test in Crewel's class?!” 

A yawn can be heard and ushered out from your little fur ball of a companion, Grim. Resting on your shoulders you can only respectively share the same tired stare on your face as you step out into the school corridors. “We have a day or two maybe to study for it, it should be enough time to cover what we need to go over.” 

The wintery dim skies makes the air around you a bit more chilly than normal, making you feel a little drowsy even. “Mrmgh, why’d we have to get out of bed ~? It was the perfect temperature to sleep in!” As he then closes his eyes while resting on your shoulder, you can only give a sigh and roll your eyes as you make your way over to your shared class. With heavy eyelids and heavy limbs dragging your feet, you lazily make your way past the cluster of students. 

“Yea no kidding, I wanted to sleep in too. Any second longer and I would’ve succumbed to the comfort of our bed.” Bringing your hand to your face you start rubbing your drowsy eyes. “God the weather is so perfect to sleep in. A cold morning is so nice.” 

“I agree, I feel rather closer to home the more the temperature drops.” 

“WHAT THE FUC-/ NYAHHHHH!”

As you and Grim jump up into the air - his fur all frayed and animated looking like those Halloween black cats up on display windows during the spooky-season sales - Jade stands behind the two of you with a casual smile on his face. 

“Fufu, well I see you are rather more awake now.” Alongside him stood Floyd and Azul, the most recognizable sea trio ever. Floyd seemed to also be in a sleepy state as his slanted eyes were closed and his stance being all lazy and slump-like. Azul, ever the dashing man he is, looks back at you with a formal smile. 

“I must agree with you there Jade. Although the weather cannot nearly compare to the temperature at home, I find the cold to be rather comforting.” 

“W-What the hell Jade? Don’t pop up out of nowhere like that.” As you place your hand over your chest, the feeling of your heart beating rapidly due to the fright can be felt and heard in your eardrums. “Apologies, my intention wasn’t to scare you, Prefect.” Although you can't be too sure if he really was genuine with that apology, the look on his face said otherwise. And with a slightly scoffing click of the tongue you fix your posture and stand up with a straight posture to address him. 

“What do you guys want?” After you’ve calmed down, you press your palms on your hips, giving him a more stern expression. Grim is practically still recovering from the sudden scare as he clings onto your leg. “Oya? Asking us what we want? Why aren’t you a generous one (y/n).

“Indeed, if that's the case then I would like-”

“You know damn well that's not what I meant!” 

“Oi, shut it will you? Yer loud voice is botherin me.” Floyd speaking up in irritance causes you to divert your attention onto him and you flinch back a bit, making note of controlling your volume. Coming up to stand in front of Jade now, your attention is now placed onto Azul, his pristine air around him calling for professionalism. “To be quite frank, we heard your little call of distress just now and would like to offer assistance.” Smiling ever so politely as he places his hand on his slightly puffed up chest, you can only feel a sense of dread for what's to come. 

“You want to help us study for our upcoming potionology test? Why? What’s in it for you?” 

Feigning a shocked and offended look, Azul shakes his head slightly and you continue on just stare at him with disinterest. “Why, out of the goodness of my heart of course! I’m just trying to help my dear friend, yes? I’m just trying to show my comradery because friends are supposed to support and help each other.” Hearing his words make you snicker, and Jade can’t help but be amused a little at the show displaying your interactions with Azul. 

“Hmm? Shrimpy and little seal needs help with their studies? Oooh count me in~ hehe” Finally feeling awake with a sense of amusement, Floyds demeanor shifts to a more sneaky and cunning air around him. “Wait, I didn't even agree to this!” Grim lets out a similar statement as well, picking him up into your arms as you hold him for a sense of comfort. 

“Now now no need to be so rude. We merely just want to help.” You know damn well that he has other intentions other than to simply just “help,” and what other perfect way than to try and take advantage of the fact that you two had an upcoming test. “No way, I'd rather have someone else tutor us.” 

“Oh how your words and hostility wound me (y/n),” bringing a finger to swipe at his fake tears Azul then moves to the side and switches back up once again. “Very well, if you refuse to take my assistance then why not choose between the Leeches to tutor you?” 

Giving him the most “Are you serious” look ever towards Azul, you divert your eyes to look over at Jade and Floyd who stood beside each other. It was like you were in a bachelorette/bachelor show right now having to pick between which twin you wanted to date as Azul was the host. “W-Wait I never-”

“Time’s ticking Prefect, unfortunately we all have classes to attend so hurry won't you?” 

WHY IS HE PUTTING ME ON THE SPOT?!

Grim being firm with his whine and response simply says he doesn't want either and jumps out of your arm, scrambling off to class without you, seeing that you really were left alone in this situation. Thanks so much “companion.” Darting your eyes back and forth to Jade's polite yet somehow eerie aired smile and Floyd’s amused and up-to-no-good lazy smirk, you frantically blurt out one of their names without much thought. 

“J-Jade!” It wasn’t an easy pick, but in all honesty at least this eel can try and be tame for the most part. So scratch that, it was a rather easier and obvious pick. With a pleased smile on his face, Jade simply places a hand over his chest as if he was glad to have been chosen. “I will do my best to tutor you well then Prefect. Thank you for choosing me.” Ding Ding Ding! And it seems that (y/n) chose contestant number 2! Jade Leech! 

“Ehhh? Why didn’t ya pick me shirmpyyyy? It would’ve been so much more fun. Oh well, I’m not really feeling like tutoring ya no more anyways.” 

You guess calling Jade was a good call, but the slight glint in his eyes causes some uneasiness in you. Letting out a slight chuckle and a one-sided crooked smile, you look up to Jade who now as well stood in front of you. “Aha, yea.. I look forward to it as well.” As you make up your quick plans of when and where to meet, you four all go your own separate ways to head over to class. Thinking to yourself, you really had no choice or say in this with the way they gave you no options whatsoever.  

“Look at you looking so chipper Jade.” Floyd slightly remarks as out of the three, Jade's smile is ever so radiant. 

“Yes, I'm quite pleased that the plan went rather well.”

“‘Pleased’ is such an understatement. You seem more ecstatic to say the least, like how you are always with those batches of mushrooms.”

“Urgh, don't even mention 'em Azul. It's already enough having to hear him talk about his mushrooms and “Shrimpy this” or “Shrimpy that,” blergh.” 

“I’m glad to know I am not a direct victim of his ramblings with you in my stead.”

“Oh how you both wound me so.” And as the three walk off in the opposite direction, the show of bachelorette/bachelor has ended with you and Jade going to meet up for your little date. With Grim being there of course, but under Jade's care he is a rather easy case to take care of and Jade will ensure that things will be under control now. 

The first drops of snow in your heart flutter down as the first lingering thoughts of Jade come hither to rest in your mind. And as Jade proceeds to move his knights in places to ensure his next move winds up being a success, slowly breaking down your wall of pawns to get to the heart of what makes you stay in the game, to obtain your king and end the game. Slowly but surely, his methodical and strategic thinking would lead him to success and only then, would he be able to have your king. A game of chess to where you don't know you’re playing as he stares down at the chessboard.

I’ve been seeing him more often lately… A lingering thought nestles in as you make your way over to class.

Three pawns down, no moves made, and a clear break through heading towards your unprotected king. An open line is presented and clear for him to make a bold break for it. With slight hesitation as he's about to pick up his knight, he then draws back his hand and proceeds to bring his king up instead. 

Present Day 

Nov - 15, XXXX

“Hey Henchman, is it just me or have we been seeing Jade a lot more often recently?”

“Glad to know you’re finally noticing Grim, I've seen him around much more frequently since a couple months ago too. It’s quite…. Odd honestly.” 

I kinda wanna see him some more though…

 “You think he’s trying to get something from us?” Perched on the top of your head, Grim tilts his head forward a little to try and make curious eye contact with you. With his pitchfork-like tail wagging around in the air, you casually make your way down the stairs from NRC’s main building to head back to Ramshackle dorm.

“I hope not. Not like I'll just let him anyway, man I hope we don't see him again.”

I wonder where he could be right now… could he… be busy? It’d be nice to see him again…

With a lift of your foot, another step is placed off the hard slate wooden stairs as you now continue onward. Classes have ended and an assortment of dispersed students with colors consisting of their respecting dorms filter through the halls quickly. Some going back to rest in their dorm rooms, others maybe attending after school club activities, or perhaps some going to pursue their other hobbies. Whatever time is available, every student here uses it to the fullest.

“Ya could say that again. If he comes by again then I’ll just blow out my flames and cook him dry! Nyahaha!”

His arrogant laugh makes you roll your eyes as a soft smile forms on your face, slightly shaking your head with Grims weight on top. “Hah, sure, whatever you say Grim.”

“It's THE Great Grim!” 

With a flick of your wrist and a scoff, you couldn't bother to resay his name just for his own satisfaction even in a sarcastic manner. Tilting your head in a mischievous manner, you feel the weight of Grim scrambling and jumping off with a hoarse yelp coming from him. As he lands on his paws, you let out a giggle watching his scowling face directed towards you. 

“I was trying to look at the sky, but you were in the way, Grim hehehe.” Knowing that was not at all the case, before Grim could retort he pauses and it causes you to stop in your tracks as well. Standing on the gray pavemented pathway near the open ended exit from which you both came from, you looked down at Grim a bit curiously. “Grim? Why’d you stop?”

Now on all fours, Grim perks his head up as if tailing an annoying fly around his head. With more cat-like animatics, Grim starts swirling his head just slightly and sniffing as if he can see a delicious aroma in those cartoon episodes. “Somethin’ smells good…” 

The cold weather makes it hard for odor particles to pass through due to the more compact molecules, however you can tell just how drawn Grim is to whatever may be causing the smell. Taking a big inhale, you try smelling whatever it is that Grim may be smelling, your chest puffing up as you take in a big amount of air in your lungs. 

“I don't smell anything Grim, what are you-”

“Ah! Over there!” It seems he has found the source of whatever it may be he was smelling, pinpointing it rather quickly as he scurries off. “Ah! Wait Grim! Where are you going?!” Before you can follow suit, not so far off a voice calls out and grabs your attention. 

“Ah, good evening prefect.”

Turning your head around, you’re met with no one but Jade. His voice divulging you and making his presence known. Although so suddenly and randomly, you can’t help but feel a sense of tingling in your chest.

Jade!

“J-Jade! What are you doing here?” Changing your position from almost sprinting off, you shift yourself back to face Jade instead to properly converse with him. Upon looking up at him, you note the clouded and dull gray skies as it soars vastly. 

“Classes have ended some time ago, I was merely on the way back to my dorm. I would assume that it’s the same for you, yes?” Jade stood comfortably, not another layer of clothing on him in sight to withstand the colder weather while he sticks to nothing but his usual uniform wear. You, on the other hand, had a thicker jacket on top of your uniform to help adapt to the temperature around. 

“Well, I was. That was until Grim ran off somewhere again. Hah, seriously I might as well forget about trying to chase after him. He can come back whenever he wants.” With a defeated sigh, you slightly slouch forward with your arms swinging from back to back. 

“Hmm well if that's the case, may I walk you back to your dorm?” 

You’ve been getting used to how casual he’s been lately, considering the amount of times you’ve been seeing each other through mere “coincidences.” Though recently whenever Jades around you can't but help to have that lingering feeling of wanting to stay with him just a bit longer. Whenever he leaves he immediately fills up your mind whenever you allow it to and you can't help but let your mind wander. Is this perhaps…?

“Hello? (Y/N)? Are you spacing out?” With his hand waving in front of you to snap you out of your daze, your unfocused stare comes back into reality and out of your thoughts. “Huh? What?” 

How adorable…

“I asked if I could walk you back to your dorm. If you aren’t feeling well then-”

“Oh no! I’m perfectly fine! I just spaced out for a bit haha. But uhm, I don't mind if you did accompany me back.”

In the way you responded allowed you to give you a sense of freedom to where you aren’t actually giving him a direct and decisive response. More so an indecisive one. Slightly fidgeting with the hem of your jacket you give him a lightly aired chuckle to ease up the atmosphere. 

“So I would say you want me to accompany you back, correct?” 

“Well I didn’t say that I didn’t want you to accompany me”

“You’re rather indirect with what you want (Y/N).” With a slight tut, shaking his head like a common motion of showing one's dismay you can only rile backup to defend yourself with reason. 

“No I'm not! I said I didn’t-! Hah, whatever. Fine, I would like it if you were to accompany me back to Ramshackle Jade.” 

“Fufu very well then. It would be my pleasure too.”  Seriously, he seems to always have a way with words. Putting you on the spot like that so easily and casually. 

But at least we’d be able to spend time together again.

The two of you make your way back over to Ramshackle, following the usual pathway you commonly take when out of classes. The silence lingering between you both causes you to fidget some more as you try to make it obvious you're not at all bothered by it. Staring straight ahead while you see Jade in the corner of your eye next to you as you both walk along-side each other, you can only wonder why he isn't saying anything. Usually Jade makes conversation with you whenever you two are together, perhaps he just isn’t feeling all that talkative. An unfamiliar tension is slightly there, one that wasn’t there before and you can't understand why but to only question it. 

Perhaps it's the cold, but you feel your cheeks slightly growing a little red. What other reason could there be? Next to you Jade remains silent while peacefully walking next to you, and without your knowledge, he smiles just slightly feeling a slight of anticipation.

“Curious, but do you maybe know why Grim ran off (Y/N)?” Jade finally breaks the silence by asking a question, you feel a slight relief in your chest. 

“Aha, I don't know. He said that he smelled something good… Maybe food? Probably someone is snacking around here and he may be a victim to Grim’s antics and persistence haha.”

“That is not the case” Looking over to Jade who sounds so sure of himself, it quizzes a question out of you. “What do you mean? How can you be so sure?”

“Why, I would know of course. Because I was the one who placed some salted steamed fish near the bushes.”  

“What? Then why’d you ask?!” With a nonchalant smile on his face it can only be contrasted to your taken back and startled reaction. Placing a hand on your back, Jade continues the path while guiding you along to continue further with him. “Wait, more importantly why did you do that?”

Jade stays quiet, that smile still on his face as he continues to keep his hand on your back. Wait, now that you think about it you two are going off course and straying from the usual path you take to head back to Ramshackle. With your heart quickening in your chest, you can only start to nervously sweat at where this is going. “U-Uh Jade? Where are we going? What are you doing?” 

As his eyes slowly turn to look at you, his head still facing forward however and his smile ever the same, you can't help but to shiver a bit and get a feeling that whatever he’s planning isn't going to go well. “Oya, there’s no need to be so nervous now. I thought we might take a detour to enjoy the weather a bit more.” 

“No but uh, you didn't answer my ques-” Suddenly bringing his hand from your back to wrap around your shoulders, he draws you close into his side and it prompts you to stop your walk and just freeze from the surprise. “Why? Well I simply wanted to be alone with you of course.”

Your whole right side of your body is pressed up against his left side. With wide eyes, you don't dare to look over to Jade, refusing to let him see your sudden flusteredness. Your heart is beating so loud that you’re hoping that he can’t hear it as well. His arm around you almost longingly, the sudden stillness as you both don't move a muscle, and the sound of your heart beating at a rapid pace as if on a roller coaster. You really wish you could say that the whole reason your face is red is because of the cold and your body temperature just suddenly dropped! But it would make more sense that you’d be blue and purple then red… So then why exactly are you-

“Oh dear, look at you getting so red in the face. Do you perhaps like the weight of my arm around you?” You didn’t even notice, too occupied in your own thoughts and spacing out, that Jade had proceeded to lean forward to be face to face with you. “Wha-!”

A pleased smile is formed as he sees you snap out of your thoughts and he leans back up and adjusts his arm around you to let it sit more comfortably. Looking back up at the scenery the sky has to hold, he holds you ever so lovingly and affirmably. 

“J-Jade what is- what are-! What’s going on!?” Matching the weather, you freeze stiffly in his hold, unfamiliar to his loving touch. It was rather unusual for him to make such a bold and tender move, a foreign feeling yet for you to adjust to. 

The sky is covered in splotches of clouded gray cotton, the meek shine from the sun is still blocked by the airy cold sheet of gas yet still blinding to look at. Inhaling the dewy air that gives oneself a sense of refreshment, Jade closes his eyes and tilts his head up to admire the brightened gray scale that vasts above you both. 

“Tell me, Prefect,” beginning to speak calmly, you try to distract yourself from your close proximity and focus on what he had to say next. “The moon is quite beautiful, is it not?” 

“What?” Killing your stiffness, you’re found to be quite dumbfounded and caught off guard. “What are you talking about Jade? It’s still daytime and the moon isn’t even-”

Pausing, you let his words sink in. The moon isn’t out. His arms are around you. You both are together, secluded. You are alone with him. No Grim. No Deuce. No Floyd. No Azul. Just you and him. 

Badum. Wait, is he…

Badum. Did he just tell me…

Badum. Badum. Badum. He knows what that means…

Badumbadumbadumbadumbadum! He just told me he loves-!

“Cat got your tongue? I hope that isn’t the case, it was the only reason why I sent Grim away from us after all.” His thumb is soothingly rubbing circles into your arm while he keeps you in place, ensuring you don't spring up or leave from his hold in any way. This was like his own way of trying to calm you down, fully aware of how thunderstruck you may be at the moment; the motions of his gesture somewhat helping. 

“Jade.”

“Yes?”

“Back in the lounge…. You….”

“Yes, indeed. I said the same thing then as well.”

“Then you… Are you saying- that you… Did you just…”

No longer looking at the sky, he turns his head to give you his full undivided attention, waiting for you patiently to make your conclusion. Still refusing to look him in the eyes, you droop your head lower just a little as you feel yourself getting smaller in his arm. Bringing your hands together, your fingers start to fiddle with each limb and cloth it can find near its reach, usually playing around with the hem of your uniform under the blanket of your jacket. 

Slightly opening your mouth, your brows furrow and you swear you can feel your knees go slightly weak if not for the support of his arm grounding you. “I…”

This man is playing with me right now. 

Without even having to look, you can just feel his eyes on you. Finally reverting back to your more casual self, you shake your head with a sigh feeling more calm. “Hah, okay Jade I love you too.”

“My, what a bold confession there.” 

“At least I didn’t confess indirectly.”Finally looking up at him, you give him a bit of sass as you roll your eyes and a chuckle escapes his lips. His grip becomes slightly more firm and if you were to lean on his chest, you can swear that his heart was beating just as loudly as yours. 

“You’re finally looking at me, my dear Pearl.” His eyes soften as you look into his olive and golden eyes, his voice laced with such affection that it makes your body feel tingling with how much warmth it held despite the cold air. “Pearl…” Slowly repeating what he said quietly, letting the words sink in further more, your eyes widen and a slight sparkle glosses over. His other hand comes over and cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb against the softness it brings. “Yes, my Pearl.” Jade droops his head lower till your foreheads touch, releasing his hold on your shoulder to then cup the other side of your face. Your cheeks might just be comparable to that of a hand warmer, but you can't help it. Not when he’s being so tender like this. Not when he’s locking eyes with you while giving you the most love-stricken smile ever. Not when you two are so close. “The moon is very beautiful right Jade?” You softly lull out, the growing thoughts of him filling up your head space.

“Very, it really is beautiful.” A little giggle ushers out, a giddy smile and tender hands. A loving look and a fond voice. A dovey feeling and a pacing heart. There, on the side of the public pavement road, stood two lovebirds where the trees bristle through the wind and hide them both perfectly. “It’s very enchanting if I must add. The moon that is. In fact, its shape and glow is similar to one of a pearl. A very beautiful one indeed.”

Tilting your head a little closer, your foreheads staying connected as he continues to hold your face and your hands on his, his words only make you quirk a wider smile. “You know, you’re making my heart beat very fast right now you know that? If I die because of you, you’d be put behind bars.” 

“Hmmmm, really now? And what makes you so sure I'd allow them to catch me so easily?” 

“Why do I like you?”

“In fact you don’t. You professed you love me not too long ago.”

“You’re right, unfortunately. I do, in fact, love you Jade Leech.”

Months of preparation, months filled with longing, months filled with shadowed moves, months filled with perseverance and patience, Jade Leech has finally accomplished what he’s worked for in one swell swoop from you. A kiss to the lips from the person who he always loved from the sidelines, now here in his hold as they reciprocate his mutual feelings. 

Can we stay in this moment forever?

Watching you with the way you close your eyes just to kiss him, can he just stay in this moment forever? Forever to see the way your lashes sprawl out, long enough for him to count each and every piece of hair. Forever to feel your lips against his, long enough to remember the sensation and feeling of your soft lips. Forever to engulf himself in your natural aroma, long enough to have a sense of peace when he smells your scent. With his eyes open, even in the kiss he can't help but to just close it. Not when someone so beautiful is right in front of him. The first to place a kiss and the first to draw back from it, you quickly turn back around and bury your face in your hands. 

Ah, they're getting all shy now. I wish it would have lasted longer…

“Ohmyfuckinggodijustkissedhimmmmm!” Whilst squealing in your hands Jade comes over and wraps his arms around your hunched figure, fully embracing you as he starts to feel gushy himself and nuzzles his cheek on the crown of your head. A big goofy silly smile on his face. 

“Oh what’s wrong my dear Pearl? You’re so red that it can rival Riddle's hair.”

“Hah, I wonder who’s causing such a symptom.” Removing your hands away from your face, you turn your head to meet Jade's beaming smile and red cheeks with your slight pouty and red face.

“I would gladly like to proclaim that I was the cause of such said symptoms.”

“Gosh why did I even-”

Turning his head closer to yours as he leans over your shoulder, his voice suddenly becomes low and serious. The way he can suddenly change the mood with his tone tickles your ear and sends chills down your spine in a good way. His arms around your figure hugging you securely like a vine wrapping itself against a gate. 

“I want to be the only one to make you feel this way, to have you look this way, to have you react this way. I would gladly like to be the reason for it knowing your affections for me are genuine. Just for you, I’d love to be that reason.” 

… 

“Fufufu, oh? To think your face couldn’t get any more red. Look at you, oh how wrong I was~”

“Jade you little-!” 

Turning around to engulf him in the same manner, you bury yourself in his chest. There you go, now you can confirm for real that his heart was indeed beating just as fast as yours. Standing still to hold each other in your arms, your red and burning face finding shelter in his bosom while he radiates a silly smile with red coated cheeks, you take the time to remember how things even came to be the way they are now. And as the two of you indulge each other, far off in Ramshackle dorm Grim is looking around to see if you’ve yet arrived. 

Moving his king up now in front of yours, thinking you’d make no move, he’s caught off guard as you pick up your king and take his. After all his chess pieces have eaten yours, nothing left but your king stood hopeful for him to take. Yet what a surprise of events that your heart took in the final move. It was a checkmate, and in the palm of your hand you gently held his king close to your heart. 

tag! - @thehollowwriter @pandaforcexd @officialdaydreamer00

I hope you guys enjoyed this read, sorry it took forever!

[wandaromanova]

enigma.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Warnings: physical violence, bullying, one cuss word

A/N: hello! this is my first fic in a very long time and also my first wednesday fic. i’m super rusty so please bare with me. not proofread. happy reading <3

Summary: You’re the only person who sees Wednesday for who she really is.

Word Count: 3.2K | wednesday masterlist |

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

Wednesday Addams was an enigma. 

From the second Enid had introduced you to the newest Nevermore resident, your interest in the raven-haired girl had been piqued.

Lifeless stare, ghostly-pale skin that was ice cold to the touch, and the cadence of her brief yet eloquent words were like a breath of fresh air. You were instantly enamored by her, eager to know more.

However, that proved to be difficult as time passed. Wednesday was a person of few words and if she so happened to speak, all that would fall from her lips were insults or the occasional death threat.

Conversations were merely one-sided whenever you worked up the courage to speak to her, which eventually faltered as she blankly stared at you through her long lashes. 

And it wasn’t like you could stalk her social media for some insight.

Unsurprisingly, she found social media to be, and you quote, “a soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation.” You had to admit, she had a point.

All you could do was observe the things Wednesday would say or do. Considering you shared classes and had Enid as a common denominator, it wasn’t like all hope in getting to know the girl was lost. 

You did notice the Addams girl somewhat warm up to everyone else, just not with you. As odd as it may sound, you wanted to be seen by the raven-haired girl.

It was as if the need to be accepted by her was consuming you. 

At one point, you questioned whether or not there was any true depth to her. Was she genuinely cold-hearted or was there some semblance of humanity beneath her rough exterior? Why was she especially rash with you?

Wednesday Addams always had her guard up, so what was she trying to hide?

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You’d never forget your first decent interaction with Wednesday. 

You were standing beside your locker, leaning against the wall as Enid went on a tangent about her feelings for Ajax.

As the wolf spoke animatedly, hands flailing about, your eyes couldn’t help themselves from diverting their attention to the living shadow that stalked your way.

Wednesday looked gorgeous as always, there was no doubt about that. There was something about the way she carried herself with such grace that stood out in a sea of people.

Not a single wrinkle of her clothes nor a strand of hair out of place, perfect posture, and burgundy lipstick that complimented her complexion beautifully. 

Enid noticed your staring and turned around, her excitement going into overdrive which admittedly, you didn’t think was possible.

You loved the girl, but you sometimes wonder how she isn’t exhausted from all the energy she uses.

“Hi, roomie! How has your day been so far?” Enid’s enthusiasm was written all over her face, contrasting Wednesday’s lack thereof.

“It’s been dreadful,” Wednesday spoke monotonously as she glanced at you over her roommates’ shoulder. 

“Dreadful in a good way or dreadful in a bad way?” The blonde inquired and Wednesday’s eyes snapped back to her in an instant.

“Dreadful in an ‘exsanguination is becoming increasingly appealing’ way. How you interpret that is inconsequential to me.”

Wednesday deadpanned, forcing Enid to awkwardly chuckle. You decided to try and save your friend from embarrassment.

“So, you’re having a decent day it seems.” You spoke up, the two girls focusing on you. The raven-haired girl stared at you with a glimmer of curiosity behind her dark eyes. 

“And what gave you that impression?” You cleared your throat, playing with the collar of your uniform nervously as Wednesday raised an eyebrow.

“Exsanguination is surface-level or internal blood loss. It kills quickly and efficiently with little to no warning. It seems like something you would enjoy…”

You trailed off, avoiding eye contact with the cloud of darkness that stood before you as realization dawned on you. You sounded fucking insane.

However, you didn’t have time to contemplate getting psychiatric help before Wednesday’s soft yet firm voice met your ears.

“You’re the only person I’ve met in this hormone-infested hell to understand my implications.” 

You half-heartedly smile in an attempt to remain calm and collected. There was no time to respond as the bell rang, signaling the students of Nevermore to head to their next class. 

“Time to go, see you later Y/N. Don’t forget, we’re hanging out in my room later.” Enid half-yelled out as she walked past you.

Wednesday simply gave you a nod before following behind the hyper werewolf. As soon as the pair were out of sight, you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. 

In a way as unorthodox as herself, Wednesday Addams had complimented you.

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

You’d never forget when you caught her staring at you.

You were sitting at your self-designated seat in botanical science class, doodling random pictures into your notebook when you felt a presence beside you.

Confused, you look up to see Wednesday settling her backpack onto the floor, and that feeling increases tenfold. Normally, Wednesday is partnered up with Enid.

So…why was she here with you?

“Uh, hey. Why are you sitting here? Not that I mind, you just usually sit with Enid.” Your voice came out shaky and you mentally berated yourself for it.

“Enid wants Ajax to sit with her since their date went swimmingly. I had to hear about it all night, much to my misery.”

The raven-haired girl grumbled as she took out her notebook from her backpack, placing it on the table in front of her.

“Okay… cool, cool. It’s just that Yoko sits the-” You started to speak but instantly stopped as the girl you mentioned walked up to Wednesday’s side.

“That’s my seat, Addams.” The attitude was evident in your friend’s voice and expression, as you awkwardly sat and watched.

Wednesday turned her head, glaring at Yoko. You were glad to not be on the receiving end of her stare. She was honestly terrifying for such a tiny person.

“Not anymore.”

There was no room for argument as the storm cloud beside you faced forward once more. You shot Yoko an apologetic stare as she huffed and went off to find another chair. Soon after, Thornhill’s replacement came in and class began.

No words were spoken between you and Wednesday for the majority of the session. To be fair, it’s hard to get a word in when you’re copying down notes and trying to comprehend what the hell is going on. 

You furrowed your eyebrows and bit down on your lip as you listened to the teacher, but the feeling of someone’s eyes on you pulled you from your trance. The second you turned your head, your eyes met Wednesday’s intense gaze.

“Is there something on my face?”

“Besides stupidity? No.”

You would say you were surprised by her response, but you weren’t. Part of you wanted to confront Wednesday, question her more.

However, you decided your ego couldn’t take another hit for the time being and left it to rest. 

Perhaps she was internally judging every fiber of your existence. From what you knew about her, you figured that had to be the case. Nevertheless, her unwavering gaze persisted throughout the remainder of the period.

As the class came to a close, you turned to speak to the girl beside you, just to be met with an empty seat.

The only sign of Wednesday’s presence was the fleeting glimpse of her silhouette disappearing through the door. Disappointment washed over you, but you pushed it aside as you collected your belongings. 

Flinging your backpack over your shoulder, you stood up and made your way over to Enid and Yoko. You gave them a puzzled look when you realized they had been sitting together during class, their items still scattered about the table. 

“Hey Enid, I thought you were sitting with Ajax,” You greeted the blonde, curiosity laced in your voice. She flashed her signature wide smile at you, tilting her head to the side in a questioning manner.

“Nope, he was paired up with Xavier. They like drawing bugs together to bring to life, it’s really gross. Why would you think he was with me?” 

Enid sidetracked before asking, staring at you in anticipation as she awaited your response. 

“Oh, no reason. Just thought you guys would be together since you’re dating and all that jazz.” You chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly before Enid forcefully linked her arm with yours. 

She abruptly pulled you along as Yoko followed close behind, heading toward the exit practically jumping in excitement as she went on about the new desserts that were in the cafeteria.

Her words were mere whispers compared to the thoughts that clouded your mind. 

Ajax and Enid hadn’t been together today like Wednesday said they would. So, why would she go through the trouble of sitting next to you, knowing that the spot was occupied by someone else? Why hadn’t she sat with Enid instead? 

So many questions flew around your mind, but one aspect of the ordeal stood out to you. Out of all the places she could’ve been, she chose to be beside you. Wednesday had lied to be near you.

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

You’d never when Wednesday stood up for you.

You were walking around Jericho Town Square, casually looking at the displays in the windows of the different shops when you caught sight of a group of five normie boys pointing and laughing at you from a distance.

You thought nothing of it until they started to make their way over to you. 

You turned around, speed-walking in the opposite direction of the teens. You could hear their footsteps behind you, and as their pace picked up, so did yours. However, you couldn’t outrun them. 

You felt a pull on the back of your shirt and before you knew it, you were being dragged into an alleyway and shoved up against a wall by your collar. You let out a grunt from the impact, your head hitting the cement with such force it made you lightheaded. 

“Listen carefully, the mayor may let you weirdos roam around, but no one wants you here.”

The dude dressed in a letterman jacket gripped your collar tighter as his entourage laughed, pushing your body higher up on the wall, practically choking you as the material blocked your airways. 

You were trembling, half because of fear and the other half from lack of oxygen. You were never one for violence and tried to avoid it at all costs.

“You’re worthless! Jericho would be a better place without mistakes like you here.” One of the four boys that were watching yelled. You couldn’t make out who was saying what as your vision began to blur, consciousness slowly leaving you.

The next thing you knew, your body was falling to the ground. You hit the floor hard, the impact causing you to wince before you felt kicks from every direction. All you could do was lay there and beg them to stop as the pain radiated throughout your body.

The insults and slurs they spat out had become muffled as you curled up into a ball, hands over the sides of your head in an attempt to protect it. It felt like the kicks would never end, until they did. 

“Hey!” You heard a familiar voice shout out. The blows had come to an abrupt halt. You looked up to find the source of the sound and your eyes widened when they landed on Wednesday. 

“Check it out boys, another freak for us to beat the shit out of. This should be fun.”

The boy who had previously pinned you to the wall had laughed out, the rest chuckling with him. However, they went silent and took a step back as the raven-haired girl pulled out a knife from her boot, inching towards them.

“Leave now or I’ll gut and fillet each and every one of you. And trust me, it wouldn’t be my first rodeo.”

Wednesday practically growled her words at them, fuming in anger. Her glare was as cold as you’d ever seen. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the knife with all of her strength. At that moment, you were convinced she was going to commit murder.

Her threat was enough to send the group running, as expected. Wednesday’s eyes remained on the teens until they were out of sight. She placed the knife in the place she found it before rushing over and dropping to her knees in front of your writhing body. 

You were shaking like a leaf, still scared they might return with a vengeance as you voiced your concerns to the girl above you.

“W-Wednesday, what if they come back to hurt me again?” You croaked out, letting out a groan when she lightly touched your side.

“If they do, I’ll make sure their bodies are never found.” 

She stared down at you, analyzing your visible injuries before coming to the conclusion that you wouldn’t be able to get up and walk. “I’m going to have to carry you. There’s no way you’ll get to Nevermore on your own, let alone out of this alley.”

You simply nodded as she placed her arms under your body. The moment she lifted you up, an agonizing cry left you. It felt as if your body was on fire. You knew she was being as gentle as she could, that was evident when she began walking. She moved at a slow pace to avoid as much movement and friction as possible. 

A few minutes later, you started to feel sleepy, but you were pretty sure your body was just shutting down from the trauma it endured. You managed to murmur a “thank you for saving me,” before closing your eyes and drifting into sleep, not expecting a response.

The colorless girl waited until your breathing had evened out, a sigh leaving her lips as she stared down at you in her arms, still being cautious of each step she took.

“I wish I had sooner.”

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

You’d never forget your first kiss with Wednesday.

In the following months after the incident, she’d been less callous towards you. You figured she was pitying you, but this was Wednesday Addams we were talking about. She isn’t capable of pity. So, you had no idea why she was allowing you to get closer to her. 

Nevertheless, you enjoyed being able to hang out with the girl without low-key fearing for your life. And with the close proximity, you had developed feelings for her.

It was hard not to fall for Wednesday. She’s incredibly smart, a master at playing the cello, an amazing writer, and beautiful. The only problem was her lack of interest in you. 

Sure, you enjoyed learning about her, but she never attempted to learn anything about you. 

Reciprocated feelings or not, she was still your friend and it kind of hurt that she showed no regard for who you were as a person. It was almost as if she accepted your company for the sake of having someone there.

So, one day you finally decided to tell her how you felt, for better or for worse. 

You’d been in Wednesday and Enid’s room. Enid was at the movie theater with Ajax, leaving you and her roommate alone. The room was silent, the only sound to be heard was the clicks of Wednesday’s typewriter. 

You were sitting on her bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone. However, you couldn’t get the girl who was just a few feet away out of your mind. A sigh escaped your lips, grabbing Wednesday’s attention. 

“Someone looks miserable.” Her voice, despite the insult, was music to your ears. You knew that was her way of asking what was bothering you. You decided to grow a pair and finally talk to her, seeing as this was the perfect opportunity to do so.

“I know it’s your writing hour, but can we talk? It’s important.” You shyly asked as you stood up and made your way toward her, internally rolling your eyes at yourself. You were trying to sound confident and ultimately failed. 

“It better be,” Wednesday mumbled, removing the paper from her typewriter and neatly placing it on the side of her desk. She spun her chair to the side, looking up at you expectantly. You gulped, looking down at the floor as you tried to formulate the words you wanted to say before committing to them.

“So, um, we’ve been friends for a while now, and don’t get me wrong, I’m happy about it. It’s just sometimes it feels like the interest is one-sided. Maybe it just hurts because I have romantic feelings for you, but I want you to see me for who I am. I don’t even know if I’m making any sense. I’ll shut up now.”

You couldn’t even look the girl in the eyes as you attempted to keep your voice stable. Your heart was racing as you waited for her to say something, anything.

A minute had passed before Wednesday stood from her chair. You thought she was about to force you out of the room and tell you to never come near her again, but that didn’t happen. She spoke instead.

“You play with the collar of your uniform when you’re nervous, bite your lip when you’re concentrating, you tremble when you’re scared, and you look down at the floor to avoid eye contact when you’re under stress.” 

You looked up at her in shock, instantly making eye contact with the girl. Truthfully, you didn’t even know you did those things yourself. They were simply subconscious ticks that you had. You were about to speak up, but Wednesday had beat you to it.

“You somehow enjoy chick-flicks, your favorite color is a nauseating tone of pink, you’re afraid of the dark so you sleep with a nightlight, you order a caramel frappuccino with extra whipped cream at the Weathervane, and you’re allergic to tomatoes.”

As the raven-haired girl listed off more facts about you, you were rendered speechless. You weren’t even sure how she knew about your nightlight or your tomato allergy, but this wasn’t the time to question her.

All you could do was stare at her like a deer caught in headlights. You were in such disbelief that you didn’t even realize that Wednesday had gotten closer.

You were finally brought back down to earth when you felt her cold hand cup your cheek. You stared deeply into her dark eyes, before taking a leap of faith and connecting your lips with hers. 

There was some hesitancy at first, but the feeling of her lips on yours was euphoric.

You were instantly addicted and believed Wednesday felt the same way, if her hands that tangled themselves in your hair were any indication. 

When air became an issue, you pulled away, allowing the two of you to catch your breath, your forehead connecting with hers.

Your eyes were closed as you smiled, taking in the moment you had been waiting for, but your eyes fluttered open, locking onto Wednesday’s as she filled the comfortable silence.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’ve never seen anyone as clearly as I do you, Y/N.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

[peachdues]

ANNOUNCEMENT: Parts IV and V of In the Netherwood are back in progress!

At first, there was only darkness. A sea of black, utterly devoid of any sound or feeling.

Time stretched on without end while you drifted through the endless void. But then, the faint smell of smoke tickled your nose, followed by the distinct scent of cinnamon and firewood.

Though you could not place it, the scent was familiar; the kind that you recognized deep in your bones, even where your memory otherwise failed you.

You hadn’t known whether your eyes had been open or shut as you floated amidst the black, but a faint orange light glowed dimly some indiscernible distance away. You struggled to move toward it, uncertain of how to move your limbs — or whether you had any to move at all. But the orange light grew larger the more you twisted, growing still until you slammed into creaky, wooden planks.

Not an ounce of black remained around you now; rather, you found yourself sitting upon an old, weather-worn floor before a great, crackling fireplace. One whose hearth was intricately painted with a distinct, hanging floral motif; one that you’d spent many nights tracing over with absentminded fingers.

As you sat up, you leaned back against the edge of a rocking chair you knew would be seated behind you, facing the roaring fire. Any residual alarm or uncertainty you had melted easily away as you looked around; for here, you could never be in danger.

Because this was a place where you were warm. Safe. Loved.

Home.

“How long has Grandfather been gone?” You asked, spinning a small wooden top against the cabin floor. Every time the toy threatened to spin too far out of your reach, you slammed a tiny hand over it, before dragging it back to you.

Warm hands, gentle though wrinkled with age, smoothed over your hair. “Six years, my dove.”

The hands urged you to sit back and lean against the legs of the person perched in the great rocking chair. You followed without complaint, your toy falling to its side, forgotten.

You hummed as those fingers began combing through your hair, working through its knots and tangles. “And my parents have been gone longer?”

“Yes,” the voice spoke wistfully. “Trying to help your grandfather.”

“The Netherwood,” you whispered softly, and you shuddered against the ominous chill skirting down your skin.

The fingers in your hair paused, and you frowned. You turned into the legs against which you’d been resting, peering up at the person sitting behind you.

There, you saw the familiar face of a home that was no more.

“Gram,” you murmured pressing your cheek against her knee. “How did you meet grandfather? Was it love at first sight?”

Your grandmother blinked down in surprise at you, taken aback at the girlish excitement shining in your eyes. But then her expression softened, and she smiled ever so gently as she brushed her hand over your cheek.

“It was,” she said simply, eyes swimming with warmth. “This village is not a welcoming place. It looks down upon outsiders. That was true even when I first arrived here. Outsiders were viewed as undesirable; untrustworthy.”

Gram smiled, and suddenly, she seemed miles away from the cabin in which you now sat. “Your grandfather was the first kind face I met when I arrived here.”

“When you first arrived?” You repeated, brow furrowing before your eyes widened. “You came from another village?” You gazed up at Gram in awe. “But that means — that means you traveled through the Netherwood! You made it through!”

Gram chuckled softly. “It is not an impossible feat, my flower.”

“How did you do it?” You sat up eagerly, leaning forward in your grandmother’s lap. “Were there monsters? Shadows? Nymphs?”

Your mind ran wild with images of creatures of various shapes and sizes from the many stories she’d told you about the cursed, ancient Wood. Ones of dragons and pixies. Of shifters that could take on the form of any animal you could imagine. Ones of nymphs, beautiful nymphs, with voices sweeter than any human melody.

“Hush, child,” Gram tapped the tip of your nose, motioning for you to turn back around and resume your place at her feet. “I will tell you the story of your Grandfather, but you must sit still.”

You groaned. You hated being sedentary, always eager to run, to talk, to find Kotoha and orchestrate some elaborate prank on the village’s crankier residents. But you loved your Gram’s stories more than most anything, and so you complied, rolling your shoulders as you positioned yourself at her feet, limbs held perfectly still.

Gram guided your head into her lap, and began sectioning your hair into pieces, to braid. As her old, wisened hands began weaving the strands of your hair together, she opened her mouth to speak.

But when Gram’s mouth started moving, no sound came out. All at once, the light in the cabin grew dimmer, the memory foggier, until it faded away like smoke in the wind.

And there was only darkness once more.

👀👀👀