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rcksmith · 3 years

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Mine — Kaz Brekker

(photo not mine)

Requests: “9 from the fluff prompts with Kaz brekker please? It could be where they're keeping it a secret and it slips out? Thanks”

“Could you possibly do a kaz brekker and reader imagine where they are both like in their mid twenties. Number 9 from the fluff prompts “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?" "No, that girl is my wife”, I could just imagine him with the smuggest grin saying it. Your a very good writer and thank you if you decide to write this.”

“Could I get a kaz brekker x reader secret relationship with fluff prompts 5, 7, 12, and 14 please?”

Fluff prompts:

5. ”Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”

7. “I feel like i cant breathe when i’m around you.”

9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”

12. “I’m not jealous! Its just...you’re mine!”

14. “I don’t like to pretend we’re not together.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of fights, mention of post-traumatic stress, fluff too.

Word count: 2k.

A/N: Thank you💖 I hope you guys like. I changed some details a little, hope you don't mind

Normal Rules. Smut Rules.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you❤️

— — — —

Fissure. That's what mercenaries, thieves, assassins and his enemies were looking for. A fissure to drive Kaz Brekker to ruin. Burn his empire, wood for wood, until there is nothing left but funeral ashes swept away by the winter wind. Even the most infinitesimal fissure would ensure that his enemies infiltrate, like hungry parasites, into the heart of the dungeon of his deepest secrets. Swallowing, absorbing, any hint of what could do the infamous the Bastard of the Barrel down to his own knees.

And Kaz Brekker feared that if they looked into the most secluded corner of his dungeons, where it was reserved to hide the greatest truths of his soul, they would find the one only thing to beg on his knees for would be something he would do without hesitation.

You.

You were like the last summer solstice in a world ruled by darkness, cold and empty. Which he kept in a chest locked with seven chains.

If he had to describe you with the five senses, Brekker would remind that, when he was in the bitter cold of the ocean, clutching the stiffness of dead and putrefying flesh like a lifeboat, a ray of sunshine, warm as the summer, it opened up through the thunderclouds and came down to his face, warming that spot of skin like a kiss from the sun.

And it would be with that memory that he would describe you.

Kaz Brekker shouldn't have fallen in love with you. He was the person who most understood the disastrous consequences if he let himself get carried away by the way his heart sped up whenever he saw you. If he allowed herself to taste the way all of your heat radiated into his body and made him feel alive. But he fell in love.

Everything was all too much. The feeling of life every time you said his name, like a devotion, something religious, lyrical. The sweetness in your eyes, the warm voice. Everything had been too much.

And what should he do? Tell you he missed you every time you went on a mission? Saying that he were jealous and envy of Jesper because the man managed to make you laugh with a silly joke and hug you tight, something Kaz still hadn't been able to do? Tell you it was almost religious the way he venerated your smile? Of course not. Because all these things would have been sensible, and Kaz couldn't do anything sensible around you.

Because when he saw life offering him, with such joy, the one thing that had been denied him all his life, and that he swore never to crave, his first impulse was anger. Stupid, irrational anger.

So, for the first few moments, his entire reaction to you had been cold, distant, almost avoidant. Because the way his whole body shook in hot spasms when, in that summery tone, you called his name, it was too much for Kaz to handle.

“Kaz!” You call, one night.

He heard your voice from across the crow club, and had to close his eyes tightly at the way his heart leapt in his chest.

"Hey, hey." You appeared beside him, your cheeks chased away by coral red, the happy smile and the sparkle in your eyes as someone who have the path to true happiness. "Jessy said you were wanting to find a new way to invade that bank."

Oh perfect. In the same way his body exalted when he heard the sound of your name and your lips, hearing you call Jesper by that infernal nickname had a much more destabilizing effect. And fierce.

Kaz raised an eyebrow at you, in a nonchalant gesture but inviting you to keep talking.

“I happen to know of an underground path.” For an instant, the pride in your smile made Kaz want to smile too. “You and I can put together a map today and we'll be right tomorrow to go.”

That was one of the times Kaz should have made some dry, disinterested, trivial comment, something that made you not want to spend time with him, something that made you turn around and walk away. He should have turned around and left. He had done this over a thousand times with other people and knew it to be one of the best outings.

Still, the acid comment didn't come and he couldn't turn his back on you.

So, like the idiot he became whenever it came to you, Kaz couldn't help but spend an hour in your company. Even if it resulted in him lying in bed at the end of the day, alone and feeling the guilt gnawing at him more and more.

So, before he even knew it, Kaz was already in his office with you, listening to you chatter about things he knew he should have been paying attention to. But the way the crackling of the fire flames in the fireplace flashed across your face was a distraction of unimaginable proportions.

“Jessy and I…”

“You want to stop.” He found himself saying before he even realized it. “That nickname is already exasperating me.”

“Why? Jealousy?” You joked, oblivious to the truth.

Kaz looked at you like your comment was the most pathetic thing he'd ever heard. He wanted to screaming: ‘I’m not jealous! Its just...you’re mine!.’ But he didn't. Instead, the words that came out were:

“No. It's childish and immature, and it doesn't fit with...”

"What if I call you ‘Darling’?” You rested your chin on both palms of your hand, your elbows resting on his desk in his office.

Kaz's heart skipped a beat.

“That way you won't be jealous of Jessy's nickname and…”

“It's not jealousy!” He countered, and too late realized that he didn't disagree in the first instance about the nickname, but about the green color that emanated from his body.

And you didn't let that go either.

Your eyes took on a caustic gleam that you quickly hid, turning to the map on the table and going back to drawing the paths. “Okay, Darling.”

After that night, Kaz's self-control began to crumble.

He gave you death glares whenever you called him that nickname, but he never dared contradict or scold you. Much less deny it. The truth was, the core of his soul wanted this. He wanted every part of your caress warm as summer. He wanted to appreciate how perfect you looked when you called him that way. As if that nickname was born just to be used between you.

Something unique.

Over time, his body's physical reactions began to be stronger, coercive and overwhelming. Kaz felt dry, burning, and you soothed and inflamed him at the same time. You were the breath of peace, and also a glass of hot brandy.

And everything that he once felt dead, frozen or putrefying, slowly began to blossom, reborn and shine.

"Darling." You said, going behind the chair Kaz was sitting in, submerged in the Krisha security system sheets in front of he. “You've been there for hours.”

He ignored you, though his body was all too aware of yours behind him, the way your breath hit the top of his ear, how your heat hit his back like a high summer breeze. Kaz swallowed hard, ordering his eyes to stay on the pages.

“What are you reading?”

Your voice rang out from the top of his head, and Kaz felt his heart race into a cardiac arrhythmia the second your hands went to the back of the chair and your face tilted, chin hovering millimeters from his shoulder, your nose almost brushing his cheek.

Fucking Saints! You were hot! It was as if you had sun bathed, swam in the flames of fire, and been born into the summer.

Kaz lost his breath. His sanity. His soul.

“Do not do this.” His voice was no more than a whisper.

You looked at him, the furs not touching but breath hitting each other's cheeks. Kaz followed your gaze, and suddenly the world subtly turned hot. Pulsing and muffled.

“What?” You whispered, your heart so fast.

This was the time for Kaz to use the touche in a very valid argument. To make you move away as fast as you approached. To nip in the bud any path this interaction between you could take. He should have said about the touch. But he didn't remember. Kaz didn't remember his limitation, his traumas, his demons.

In that second, of insanity and magic, you couldn't do that just because…

"I feel like I cant breathe when I'm around you." He said.

After that day, Kaz realized that life no longer made sense without having you by his side to share it. Money didn't have the same value anymore if you weren't there, the robberies didn't make sense anymore if he couldn't tell you how it was at the end of the day, or have you by his side to fight.

Very quickly, Kaz Brekker realized that he had lost the battle against his own feelings. Loving you was inevitable. And having you close to him was made as essential as breathing. That's when things between the two of you developed faster, more solid, more right. The weeks turned to months, the months to years, and your relationship fortified as gloriously as the hilt of a sword.

Kaz still had very difficult moments with touching, days when a single brush of fur was unbearable and the mention of a kiss was impossible. But you stayed there. Firm and unshakable. Giving your summer smiles,your warm winks, and his nickname that had the power to soothe every nerve in Kaz's body.

However, the more Kaz understand that he was need you to he still live, the deeper he hid any trace of public affection for you. Any clue that could sparked the theory in someone that you were the reason, for Brekker, for the sun rose every morning. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you. Never.

Kaz Brekker became very aware that his soul was harnessed to yours. And there was nothing in the world that would take you away from he. Not while he lived, and even seven feet from land, Kaz would still find a way to fight for you.

It was a logical decision when he said you two should get married. Kaz was still trying to maintain his serene posture as his soul burned in a fire too eager and excited to make official anything that said you were his. That he had finally managed to have that ray of sunshine in the midst of the atrocious ocean. You, unlike him, exhaled your happiness in excited squeals, little jumps of joy and a passionate, quick kiss on the man in front of you.

And Kaz understood, as perfectly as the sky are blue, that he would do anything, for the rest of his life, to be worthy of that overwhelming happiness that sparkled in yours smiles.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.” He said, feeling himself smile because your happiness for the wedding was exorbitant.

And you, like the little tease you were who loved to make him piss off, smiled even more and hugged him. He love you. Unconditionally.

But, just like the ocean waves, Kaz and you have had your ups and downs. He wasn't a man who had a lot of patience, and you weren't the most obedient, calm woman in the world. You found him exasperating and he found you as stubborn as a door.

"I already said you can't do that!" And there he was, once again, lecturing you because you showed too much affection, in his mind, for him in a public situation.

And, as Kaz fucking Brekker liked to point out, ‘all walls have eyes and ears’.

"We've been together for six years, Kaz!" You tried to keep your blood calm, but you weren't a person to put up with sermons. “Is this going to be our life? Living as if we have the same connection as a boss and an employee?!”

“And what do you want, Y/n?!” He placed both hands on his office desk, looking at you from the other side “Want us to have a party and tell everyone?! Or do you prefer to hang a red target on your chest?!”

"I did not say that!" You were starting to get really angry. “I'm not asking for a billboard saying we're married and you know it! The only thing I'm saying is that you let me choose to sit next to you, take your hand, or tell you I love you when any of us go off on a dangerous mission!"

Kaz shook his head, impassable, his gaze flashing with anger. How did you not realize he was trying to save you?! Save everything you two built, your lives! And all this for what? Walking hand in hand on the street? It was ridiculous!

“This is indisputable!”

“Kaz…”

“I said no!” He slapped his hands on the table.

A less brave woman would have cringed. But not you.

“I don’t like to pretend we’re not together!”

“And I don't like a fucking girl who complains all the fucking time about something I do to save her! But it feels like I've been put up with it for six years, doesn't it?!”

The words hit you like a slap. Crackling, burning and electrifying. You felt yourself holding your breath and your shoulders instinctively tightening back. The room was silent. Loaded with tension, as if lightning had just hit the ground.

You looked at Kaz in amazement. And he pursed his lips when he realized what he'd said.

“Put up with? And you call me ‘fucking girl’ ?” You repeated, your voice low, serious and in a mixture of hurt and outrage. “Good to know.”

You turned your back, walking out of the office and slamming the door behind you hard, making the thud reverberate through the corridors of Kaz's soul.

"Y/n!" He called you, striding to the door "Y/n!"

But when Kaz pulled the doorknob and took a few steps down the hall, it wasn't you he bumped into. It was Nina, trying to hide, in a very terrible way, her curious and shocked expression. In female hands she carried a small stack of documents, probably something important that Kaz needed to check.

He had to check that out. But his eyes, restless and quick, wandered the great hall of the crow club below, watching your figure pass between the bodies, advancing towards the exit.

"Sooo…" Nina started, even though the attention wasn't on her. "Couple fights, right?"

But Kaz didn't think before nodding, trying to get past Nina to catch up with you. But of course the girl wasn't going to let Brekker get away with it that quickly. She was betting with Inej how long you two would pretend to have nothing. And now she was going to get the truth!

"So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?" The smile of shock and excitement was wide open on her face.

Kaz muttered a curse, gently pushing the girl aside and moving towards the stairs, aiming to catch up with you. But not before answering:

"No, that girl is my wife!"

#kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz x kruge #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #kaz x jesper #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #freddy carter x you #freddy carter imagines #freddy carter fluffy #freddy carter x reader #freddy carter

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treasureswordsgirl55 · 2 years

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All that I Need...

Character: Marc Spector

Pairing: Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Mentions: Sleep Disorders.

Warnings ⚠️: Mentions of fear. Angst. Fluff. Some spicy things. Anatomy things. Flirting. Best friends. Confessions. Set in New York. Soft things. Post!Endgame.

Author's Note: Hello Hello. I hope you're doing well 🥰. I'm here to leave you some of my love to Oscar and his news characters.

This is my first fic with Marc Spector and won't be the last. This fic begging in a specific way and end in another way.

So... I hope you like it!! I'll be in this mood until March. Thanks you for all the replies and reblogs, it means so much for me and my writing.

XOXO 😘

- You're distracted.

I hear him muttering in the distance as I look up from my Anatomy notes and see him pacing the intersection that separates his dining room from his bedroom, not even taking his eyes off the rubik's cube in his hands.

- How come you...?

- I don't have to see you to know you're distracted. You are very quiet. Usually - I see how he rolls the cube between his fingers about two times and then returns to watch it closely without slowing her pace - you mutter about what you're reading and usually, I hear you insult when you realize it's too much.

I feel a shiver run down my spine at such an accurate observation and feel heat for a moment.

- What an observer, Spector. You seem to look at me a lot, don't you?

I shake my head as I bite down on my pencil when I see him frown and snort.

Hell, he was one of the most attractive men I'd ever seen in my short life.

And he is my best friend. And I want it to be something more...

- Like you to me. As you have said, I am very observant.

I would say that if anyone can choke on air, it's me. I try to take a drink of hot tea trying to get my throat back to its normal movement but out of the corner of my eye and over the cup, I see him smile.

Damn bastard.

- I'm just making sure you're okay.

I raise the transparent cup with tea in his direction

- For science, right?

- You have said it, for science - I pick up the book when he left the cup and I see that he throws the cube on the bed, perfectly finished as if he had just taken it out of the package. He approaches the small table next to it while he takes off the jacket he is wearing and takes out another perfectly disassembled bucket.

Looking at it just gives me a headache. I never managed to finish one even with the instagram tutorials.

But it's what I don't focus on the least, but I see how his curls fall on his forehead as soon as he bends down to open the drawer, in the same way that his white shirt and black jogging adjust to his body with every movement he makes with the unconscious goal of distracting me.

Is there anything more attractive in the world than seeing such a male specimen devoting all his concentration to a damn rubik's cube?

Of course not. Intelligence has an attraction that I don't know what, as an Argentine tango author would say.

This man was born to be my personal downfall.

I refocus on the pages of the book in front of me but all I can do is hear his footsteps.

Twenty for every time he turns around.

I hear him murmur something and as soon as I see him, he is focused on one of the faces of the cube, more specifically the green one.

- You're getting distracted again.

"Stop pacing in front of me, then"

- Your whispers don't help me.

- Is it my whispers or... Am I the one distracting you?

I force myself not to look up from the book and by inertia, I don't answer his question either. I refrain from looking at the clock where I will discover that it is not even remotely 8:30, when I have to leave for my first class and where I can escape Marc's looks and questions.

I feel that the heat begins to invade my body and I know that my cheeks must be the color of the very fire of hell, but I continue as if I had not heard his words.

I'd rather pass out than answer that question.

- I know you heard me.

Your voice sounds a few tones lower than before and softer than usual. As if he was whispering in my ear.

- Sorry, it was concentrated in the blood circulation in the embryonic period...

I indicate the book without looking at it and raise my head instantly when I hear no footsteps. The first thing I see is the half-assembled cube on my book, besides the fact that the cup had disappeared and that my personal space is being invaded by the mint-scented cologne that I had given him for his birthday.

- Are you reading about making babies?

His innocent and mischievous in his voice makes me look at him square in the face but I automatically regret it when I see that he's leaning on the table, his arms on either side of it, holding it in a way that if I put a little more pressure he would break it in two. Again, those damn curls fall on his forehead, making me desire to feel them on my fingers uncontrollable, just as his brown eyes shine full of mischief and mockery.

- Embryonic stage is when there is already a baby, Marc.

- The funniest part is making babies, or at least, trying to make them.

I try to think of anything but the idea of making babies, but my plan fails as soon as I see out of the corner of my eye that Marc walks to the side of the small table to sit at it, indelicately pushing my books.

"You're keeping him company because he can't and won't try to sleep. Not to listen or think about doing indecent things with him. Moral support, moral support."

- I'm not going to talk about it with you, Spector.

I close the books as I pack them quickly, moving as far away from the table and his presence as possible.

Now I will be the one who cannot sleep with him in the same room in the face of such a display of mental images.

- You will not tell me about the myth of the positions and the sex of the baby?

I shake my head as I drag the chair in a desperate attempt to get out of his proximity but all I get is for Marc to be faster and kneel in the space between the chair and the table, placing himself between my legs while his gaze loses everything kind of shines with fun and turns opaque for a few moments.

Silence speaks for us. And I sit in such an intimate moment that it's hard for me to hold his gaze, and all I can do is take his hand in mine.

- I like that you're here.

- I like that you like it, because I can come often if you still have trouble sleeping.

He nods as pushes my bag away by my side and hugs me like I'm some kind of life preserver.

I feel his heart beat against my stomach in erratic beats that only speed up mine. And tears well up in my eyes as I see how affected he is by whatever is happening to him that he refuses to tell me about.

- I'm terrified of being alone again.

- Here I am - I focus on circling my fingers at the base of his neck and place a kiss on his head. His response is a barely perceptible growl as I feel him relax in my arms. - I'm not going anywhere.

I take his face in my hands making him look at me and stay at the same height.

- You see me? Here I am.

- I know. I always see you. Even if you don't realize it.

His gaze moves from mine to my lips and I feel the air become too heavy to breathe, but before I can add a sincere response to his words, I feel the warmth of his lips against my own. mine.

Just a gentle pressure charged with affection on my lips and I feel that the universe has stopped making this moment eternal.

I grab hold of his hair, pulling him closer and respond to his kiss as if my breathing depended on it. I feel his smile against my lips as the heat of his body transfers to mine and a shiver brings me back to reality for a second.

I pull away to breathe and Marc looks at me like he's about to run. And besides, I see fear in them.

- Marc... This is not right.

And gods damn me for telling such a lie.

- I know, but it feels really good.

He rests his forehead against mine as I close my eyes and feel him place a soft kiss on my nose.

- Tomorrow we will regret this - My murmur feels like a scream in the stillness of his apartment.

- Maybe you, not me.

His confidence surprises me.

- Why?

- Because you will be with me and I know that I can face anything if you are here.

Between his words and his closeness I feel that the earth stops turning.

He with the mere presence of him makes my reality cease to exist.

- I'm already here.

I open my eyes as he laughs and pulls the chair even closer, leaving almost no separation between us, to the point that I'm almost astride his legs.

- But you're not mine. That's the difference - I feel his breath on my forehead at the same time that his hands take mine and place them on his shoulders, making everything in me tremble, even my heart - Say yes and stay with me. Please.

- I do not want to lose you.

- You won't - I close my eyes as I feel his lips trail down my face to rest on mine.

- And how do you know?

- I just know - he interlocks his fingers with mine and looks at our linked hands, - Because I don't need anything more than you.

#marvel cinematic universe #marvel #fanfic writer #i write for myself but you can read it too #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #moon knight #moon knight disney+#marc spector x reader #marc spector #steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant x you #moon knight x reader #marc spector x you

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1kook · 3 years

Text

BORN SINNER III

→ MASTERLIST

summary; Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you. warnings; virgin jungkook, timid jungkook, church boy jk, a LOT of religious themes/discussion, catholic guilt, fear of sinning, mentions of masturbation, heavy doubts, a little paranoia/fear of being outcasted, jk has a crush, confessions, making out, boob lover jk has his boobs touched, groping/petting, light praise, very brief/light choking, jk is horny like 75% of the time, positive character development <3 rating; m (18+) wc; 9.5k

banner; as always, by @jamaisjoons !! ty ty ty!! <3333

notes; i have to apologize for delaying this update for so long. truth is, it was difficult to write the next part bc i felt like i had trapped myself in pt2-- jk wasn't showing ANY progress & i started to really hate his character. LUCKILY, with the help of my amazing editor n wife @kigurumu *audience cheers* i was able to put him back on the right track towards redemption! (& even more painful angst in the future!) sadly, that means that this part doesn't include any explicit smut, you'll see why. still, I'm very proud of how much i was able to build his character in this part and i hope you enjoy it!!! lemme know what u think <3

in the future, i will try my best to make sure the chapters aren’t so spaced out. again, i am so so sorry about taking so long to update this series

He gets your text the following Tuesday morning.

Now, Jungkook has never been one to be overly invested in his cell phone; he uses it as much as he needs to, just checks his emails, takes some photos, and sends texts when necessary. But you had set up a particularly unique ringtone for yourself the other day, had sweetly asked for his phone as he laid against your chest. His skin had felt warm and the slightest bit sweaty, his body pressed so closely against you that he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. “Did you have fun?” you asked, fingers combing back his hair. He had hummed, eyes fluttering shut to the faint tapping of your fingers across the keyboard. If he closes his eyes, he can still remember the soft beating of your heart beneath his ear, the leg you had hooked around his waist to pull him closer. The memory makes him shiver.

It’s a high-pitched bell sound that alerts him of your messages now, completely unlike the classic default tone he had set for everyone else.

From the other side of his room, Jungkook immediately pauses to look at it, the lit up screen glaring back at him from its idle place on his bedside table. He always leaves it there in the mornings, beside his rosary and the picture of his family, as he gets ready for work.

He knows exactly who it’s from— after all, that’s what you wanted when you stylized your ringtone —which is why his hand trembles in excitement as he unlocks his phone.

[❤️]: picnic tomorrow? 🥰

[❤️]: after my last class of course

Jungkook’s first thought is that this was a date, his first one with you since he had met you. His heartbeat hammers at the thought, at the mere suggestion that the two of you would be able to spend more time together this week outside of your usual weekend… acts. Additionally, if you’re asking him on a date, then surely it means you view Jungkook as a potential suitor, just as he does you? Do you want to maybe date Jungkook? Jungkook certainly wants to date you— in fact, if he starts gathering his courage now, he might be able to properly ask you out tomorrow.

Jungkook’s second thought is of that guilty, gross feeling that’s been gnawing at his insides for three days now, and how it was inevitably going to get worse when he saw you again.

He had lied to you, Jungkook recalls, sinking down against his mattress, shirt half buttoned, as he stares at the screen. He had lied to your face during a critical moment, had felt that seed of doubt in his chest blossom more than ever. And not only had Jungkook lied to you, but he had lied to you about his feelings toward you. How could he ever hope to hold you close, to date you, when he couldn’t even be honest with you?

The memory of your curious gaze presents itself at the forefront of his mind, the soft sound of your laughter ringing in his ears.

You had been so sweet to him despite his blunder, had cupped his face and kissed him on the lips when he dropped you off outside your apartment. “Not today,” you crooned, unbuckling yourself as Jungkook’s eyes trailed over your throat— ignoring your cross —and down your chest. “I have schoolwork to catch up on. But soon, okay?” Another sweet peck had left him trailing after your touch, your finger bopping the tip of his nose playfully. “Call me when you get home.”

And because he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with you, Jungkook had done as you said and called you. He’d called you and then had whimpered against his sheets as you generously talked him through another sinful deed. You had softly sighed his name over the line, told him he was handsome and that you missed him. That you wanted him in your mouth—

And of course, he had felt… something afterwards.

This is where his dilemma begins: Jungkook had felt something afterwards, and he’s not sure if it had been entirely good or bad. The longer Jungkook stays around you, hangs out with you, does things with you— the more he can feel parts inside of himself change. Because after the phone call, Jungkook had felt two distinct emotions within himself, both of which were up for questioning.

First, there was that one feeling he was becoming all too familiar with, the crushing guilt that would consume him following any sexual interaction with you or himself for that matter. Why was he like this? Why did he indulge himself in such heinous pleasures when he knew, knew better than anyone, what committing such acts meant for the future of his soul? He was practically dooming himself the way he was now, but Jungkook just didn’t understand— why did something so bad feel so good?

But alongside that gnawing guilt was this tiny, weirdly pleasant satisfaction, a gratification that superseded the relief felt by an orgasm. It was this oddly serene feeling that settled over Jungkook in the moments following a climax, the soft brush of your hands through his hair, the low lilt of your voice. They made him feel like he was floating on the softest of clouds, kissed and pampered by its wispy tendrils. It made something inside of Jungkook feel different, new. Good.

(In the back of his mind, Jungkook realizes he’s always felt that way. At the height of his pleasure, at the faintest brush of your hands against his. It was a staple of your presence, one that made Jungkook feel like he was walking on air.)

From whatever angle he looked at it, it just didn’t make sense. They were contrasting emotions; while one made him feel godawful, the other one practically made him transcend. The fact they could coincide, exist all at once, had Jungkook’s brain folding in on itself as he tried to figure out why. They kept him up the last few nights, eyes blankly staring up at his ceiling following his evening prayers. Mulling over everything he’s ever learned and been told, always circling it back to your beautiful presence in his life.

He knows sex in itself is not bad— after all, that was how the beautiful process of life came to be —but years upon years of studying his religion, cultivating his faith, had all led him to the same conclusion: premarital sex was wrong. And for the past few weeks, well. That’s all Jungkook had been doing with you.

It seems like every time you meet, you’re dead set on pleasuring him, turning Jungkook into a shivering, teary-eyed mess while you grinned from above. That confused him too— as far as Jungkook knew, the whole point of sex was to chase after your own pleasure, something you admittedly did not do. It was always Jungkook’s pleasure, Jungkook’s enjoyment that you wanted, covering him in languid kisses and long caresses until he was inevitably shooting his hot cum all over your lap and into your hands.

You had told him it was okay, that he should never feel bad for enjoying himself. But, to return back to his original dilemma, he doesn’t quite know if he can trust your word.

You’re a liar, that much Jungkook can look past his rose-tinted glasses to admit. While you may not have lied to him (or at least, Jungkook wants to believe you haven’t), the fact still stands that you are quite willing to deceive others in order to get what you want. He already knows you aren’t the biggest believer of the Church yourself, that you frequently brush off your religious duties in order to fulfill your own desires— the aforementioned sexual cravings probably the biggest one —so, quite frankly, Jungkook is untrusting of the rest of your practices. Were you lying to him, telling him all was well, just for your own benefit? Just because you wanted to drag him along on your lustful adventures? He wasn’t sure, and as much as he wanted to trust you wouldn’t, there’s a shred of doubt that plagues him.

But still.

Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you.

He taps his phone against his chin, brain a frenzied mess.

If Jungkook really wanted to pursue this relationship with you, he needed to be honest with himself and with you. Did it bother him that you were so flippant with the Church, the one he himself feels so devoted to? Yes and no. Jungkook has never been one to impress his beliefs on others, and truthfully, he would not be the slightest bit bothered if you don’t believe in the same things he does. Would there be some awkwardness in your relationship? Certainly, but at least Jungkook would know the real you from the very beginning.

But to him, posing as an avid follower when you really aren’t rubs part of him the wrong way. He’s slightly put off by that aspect of you, and justifiably felt that anyone would feel such a way if someone were to use something they love as mere leverage for their own personal gain. And to make matters worse, now that he’s been made aware, it weighs down heavily on his conscience.

Part of Jungkook, as selfish as it may be, wishes you had never revealed your secrets to him. He may have been left in the dark a total fool, but at the very least he would have been a happy fool. Would he still feel guilt about all the sexual deeds he’s partaken in with you? Sure, but at least he would only have himself to blame. The way things are now, he’s unsure who really needs to be condemned.

Realistically, it is Jungkook’s fault. He knows how you are and even more, he knows you would never proposition him for any such sexual deed if he told you no, if he simply denied you. But he doesn’t tell you no, and that’s the problem: Jungkook really likes you as you are now, questionable behavior be damned. He likes you when you make him cry and when you pinch his cheeks and when you snake your hand down his pants.

He still thinks you’re amazing, gets this fluttery feeling when you look at him with that sparkling gaze of yours. Your laughter makes him smile, even if you’re not laughing at something he said, because the sound is just so comforting, warm and soothing, makes his entire body relax when you chuckle. You have this gentle touch, these delicate hands that carefully comb his hair back for him in the car sometimes, tracing the side of his face softly. Your smile makes him dizzy, makes him want to cup your face in his hands and kiss you breathless. And, of course, he can’t complain about your… other talents when he’s only been on the beneficial receiving end of said talents. That aforementioned satisfaction, as small as it may be and as difficult as it was to admit to, was something Jungkook has begun to look forward to on the occasions that you meet.

But his inability to overlook his own beliefs and your confusing nature brings about a great strife within Jungkook. It’s the reason he hesitates outside the church after dropping you off, his car running as he glares at his steering wheel. Everything in him says to go inside and confess to his sins, relieve himself of this overwhelming sense of guilt and shame to the closest person to his Lord.

But he’s scared.

Scared that, despite the oath of confidentiality, word will get out. His fellow brothers in faith will hear about what he’s done and call him out for his lecherousness. But even worse, he’s scared of what will happen to you. Would Jungkook’s life be over if he were thrown out of his beloved church? As dramatic as he may be, no. But he recognized that there were different standards to which men were held in this society, that an act of desire by him would not ruin his name the same way it would you.

And Jungkook didn’t want that. He wanted to keep you safe. Wanted you to be happy and smiling, regardless of how conflicted it made him, because he likes you. He likes you so much, despite the fact he has yet to uncover the true extent of your character.

But the cloud of mystery is partially what intrigues him, has him pondering over your very existence instead of getting ready for work as he is now. He’s terribly enamored, thinks about you and prays for you every night. So maybe Jungkook is still the fool, because he still daydreams about you when he knows he shouldn’t.

His phone buzzes in his hand—

[❤️]: i miss you bunny ☹️

—and his decision is made.

Tuesday passes by in a blur and before he knows it, it’s Wednesday afternoon and you’re texting him the location of one of the parks in the city. You had told him not to worry about the food because you would bring it. Jungkook’s only job was bringing the picnic blanket, a huge checkered thing he had spent all morning rifling through three stores for. He wants to impress you, desperately so, that he’s even wearing a nicer outfit today, darker tones unlike his normal warm palette because he had heard a woman at his job say men look cooler in dark colors.

Suffice to say, he sticks out like a sore thumb at the park, the stark black of his jeans contrasting with the vibrant green of the neatly cut grass. Jungkook has half the mind to feel self-conscious about it, but then you’re calling his name from a couple meters away and his breath leaves his lungs.

“Hi,” you greet, the handle of your wicker basket held tightly between two hands; Jungkook rushes to relieve you of the weight. “Did you wait long?” you ask, rewarding his gentlemanly behavior with a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth that kick-starts his heart back into action and has his face burning up.

In all honesty, you have never dressed very modestly— not that you had to, nor that there was anything remotely wrong with that. Jungkook has spent many a mass service fighting the urge to glance down the front of your dresses and tops, ignoring the cleavage you liked to show off now and then. But apparently, what Jungkook had seen up until now was your version of dressing modestly. The dress you show up with today, an off day where there are no church ladies to impress and no unspoken dress codes to follow, makes his brain short circuit. The thin, thin, straps that hold it up giving him an all access view to the broad expanse of your shoulders and chest and collarbones and boobs—

“No!” Jungkook rushes to reassure you, fighting down the blush that threatens to travel further down his neck when you carefully straighten out the collar of his shirt for him. “I- I, um, just got here.”

You beam at the news. “I bought cheesecake,” you tell him, looping your arm through his as you tug him along. “I hope it hasn’t melted yet!”

By the time the two of you settle at a suitable spot near the lake, the cheesecake hasn’t melted. It’s still cold and solid, tastes like heaven on Jungkook’s tongue, and you laugh when his eyes light up. You look gorgeous like this, nestled against the checkered picnic blanket with a glass bottle of sparkling water in your hand, sandals just beside the edge of the blanket. There’s the faint chime of a bicycle bell somewhere to his left and the chatter of birds as they flock over the pond. Wonderful sights that would normally take his breath away and make him marvel at their beauty, but when you smile at him so gingerly like that, all Jungkook can think about is you.

He watches you slip a strawberry past your lips. “Tell me about yourself,” you hum, seemingly out of the blue, wiping the corner of your mouth with one careful finger. “Other than, like, church stuff,” you tease.

As you lean forward for another one, Jungkook’s brain stutters for a moment, eyes focused on the curves of your boobs as they naturally follow the movements of your upper body until he’s dizzy. “Huh?” he says, and you snort. “Oh— me, right, yes um—“

“Your favorite color?” you suggest, tugging the skirt of your dress tighter around your legs. It’s not cold, but there’s a slight breeze that keeps rolling over the two of you, pushing your floral scent over Jungkook and fluttering through his hair. “Right now, all I know is that you like cheesecake because you ate three slices at the bazaar the other week,” you chuckle.

It’s such a basic question, the bare minimum of knowing a person. But when you look at Jungkook like that, blinking those long lashes at him, it makes him forget his answer. “Um… Red,” he murmurs, watching you tug off the stem of the strawberry in your hands. “And white.”

You nod, and then you’re stretching a hand outward to offer him the aforementioned strawberry. When he doesn’t open his mouth right away, you silently demonstrate first, until Jungkook is slowly parting his lips and accepting your strawberry. The flavor bursts on his tongue, sweet and sticky, coating the very tips of your fingers when you don’t pull away fast enough. Jungkook averts his gaze when you pop them between your own lips and suck them clean.

“Red and white,” you repeat, unaware of the lustful images that flicker through Jungkook’s mind, the way his eyes unconsciously drop to the front of your dress, at the crevice between your breasts that he remembers oh so well, the tight suction around his cock as you— “They make pink, which is my favorite color.” He desperately clears his mind of the memories that flash before his eyes.

It’s a pretty color, fit for a pretty girl. Jungkook keeps the thought to himself as he watches you sift through the contents of your basket. It’s the perfect compliment to give you, he knows it’d make you happy, but his valor disappears when you throw him a soft grin and he’s transported back to a more recent memory, the memory in the car instead.

A bad influence, he had called you, had watched your eyes well up with an emotion he had never seen on you before. Sadness? Disappointment? Disgust? He wasn’t sure, all Jungkook could really remember was the acidity on your tongue when you had repeated the words back to him, the ghost of your touch when you had abruptly pulled away from him, shut him out. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so closed off before, not even when he had first met you and you were parading around with that staged shyness.

And even when Jungkook had corrected himself afterwards (read: lied to you to cover his tracks), the emotion had lingered. Even when you had playfully brushed him off, he had caught your reflection in the window beside you as he drove to your place. The sullen look on your normally happy face, lips down-turned, eyes lowered. A look he had put there.

And now he’s watching you carefully rip apart bread to throw at the birds with a tender smile. A cloud moves and suddenly the sun is beating down on your little picnic again, casting a beautiful glow across your skin that renders him breathless for the shortest moment, trapped by the sheer beauty you exude. You’re absolutely ethereal, and yet he had questioned you. Your morals, your character, everything.

“__?” he says before he can stop himself.

You hum, “yes, bunny?” before pausing your little feeding task to glance back over at him. When you look at Jungkook like this, meet his gaze straight on, he doesn’t see an ounce of ingenuity in your eyes. It might be Jungkook’s lovesick heart speaking, but he can’t imagine you ever lying to him. He looks away first, frowning at the various fruits sprawled between the two of you.

You care about him, that much Jungkook wants to believe. And his beliefs are confirmed, when your voice drops an octave lower, becomes softer, as you murmur, “is everything alright?” The fruits are carefully set aside, breaking the wall between the two of you until you can shuffle forward, your knees bumping against his. Hands reach for his, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against his skin.

Before you can repeat your inquiry a second time, Jungkook finds himself asking, “do you like me?”

Jungkook’s sudden inquiry makes your cheeks heat up just the slightest, your startled inhale barely contained.

It’s like a scene straight out of a teenage romcom— a confession in a park, your hearts bared for each other. But it’s a little awkward, you have to admit, unintentionally giving Jungkook’s soft hand a nervous squeeze as his question rolls over in your mind.

Duh, you want to say. But there’s something about the look in Jungkook’s eye— the eyes he very purposefully turns towards your hands, the hair he had let loose today providing him ample protection from your gaze —that has you pausing, carefully considering your next words.

You had hoped by now that it was obvious, that Jungkook understood how much he meant to you, and didn’t require some dorky confession in the park. Partially because, well. This wasn’t your usual role. Usually, it was the guy confessing to you, raving about all your redeeming qualities in an effort to win you over. But with Jungkook, all you know about relationships is flipped upside down, forcing you to play a position you’ve never played before.

Jungkook wasn’t like you; he was soft and sentimental, practically wore his heart on his sleeve for the whole world to see. And it was a massive heart, filled with so much love and adoration for the world around him, that you felt bad when he wore such sullen expressions on his face.

Expressions like the one he has now, lips pressed together tightly as he misreads your silence. He has honest eyes, a dark toffee color that sends tingles down your spine when he looks your way. They glimmer with a sort of innocence for the world, a thin sparkle that makes him look like a prince sometimes. He was devastatingly handsome, and now he was upset. “Um— it’s okay,” he stammers, trying to move the conversation along. But his eyes flicker around nervously, anxiously. Like your silence has left a burn mark on him, painful and delicate to the touch.

His comment isn’t completely unexpected. How very on-brand for big-hearted Jungkook to try to save you from an uncomfortable interaction, even if it was caused by him. “Um…” he murmurs, “it’s okay. If you don’t, uh. Like me?”

It sounds flimsy, even to you.

“No, no,” you rush to correct, your ability to speak slowly coming back to you only after the fact. “I do,” you admit, nerves on edge at this rather foreign situation. “I… like you a lot, Jungkook.”

You shouldn’t be surprised by his reaction. Jungkook blinks slowly, like his brain is still processing the information, and then, ever so artfully, goes up in metaphorical flames. “O- Oh,” he stutters, reaching a free hand up to press his knuckles against his face. The rosy hue that had first blossomed over his cheeks has now started crawling down his neck now, up his ears. It’s terribly endearing. “I— um. I didn’t know,” Jungkook rambles, and it’s so cute, so sweet, how a simple confession from you renders him this flustered.

His face emanates a warmth tangible even on your own skin, lips cutely quirking to the side as he fights off a bashful smile and the raging blush your words bring about. It certainly is a sight to see. His hair tickles his eyebrow, swept out of its usually neat style, but it makes him look all the more gorgeous. “Cute,” you chuckle, feeling the slightest bit shy at such a warm response from Jungkook. You sit back, giving him the space he needs, and turn your attention up at the big blue sky instead. “Really? I thought it was obvious,” you hum.

Part of you actually feels really awkward; as you said before, everything is so brand new with him. With Jungkook, he flips everything around for you, makes you actually admit to your emotions as opposed to simply going along with his. It’s a nice change of pace, as difficult as it may be, and the results are rather… cute as well. (He bites down a smile, but the action makes his normally soft cheeks look more pronounced than usual.)

“Because, I, um. Me too,” he says, voice wavering. He clears his throat and tries to meet your gaze under his fringe, but doesn’t last more than a second before he’s pointedly glancing at the picnic blanket beneath the two of you. “I’m— I like you too,” he admits, ears tinted a bright red. You figured as much but it was always nice to hear, especially from someone like Jungkook. “A lot.”

“Thanks,” you smile, placing a hand on his thigh.

His lips pull into a shy smile, aimed at your knees because he can never look you in the eye when you shower him in praise and other gooey, mushy feelings. It’s the same in the car or against your front door— he always manages to give your hand a tight squeeze, maybe even a kiss if he’s feeling brave. But the second you try to tell him you’ve had fun or that you’ll miss him, it’s like all his courage fades away, leaving him a blushing, smiley mess.

He was cute like that. Despite being so kind and caring, it was like Jungkook’s entire being stopped functioning when those types of gestures were aimed at him. So you relished those moments, looked forward to them with a fluttery feeling in your heart that couldn’t be tamed.

Today, he throws you for a loop. Just as that proud, giddy smile appears, cheeks and ears a pretty pink, it fades away. The excitement from your mutual confessions seems to remind Jungkook of something else, something less warm, that has him quietly mumbling, “I’m sorry.”

It’s confusing, to say the least. Just a moment prior, he had been pursing his lips in a silly attempt to hold back a smile. Now he’s staring at the ground with a rather pensive look, his apology sitting heavy in his throat. “What for?” you tentatively ask after one long beat. It had been so sudden. In your mind, there isn’t a single reason for Jungkook to be apologizing to you, especially so out of the blue. There is, however, an inkling of fear brought upon by what can only be classified as insecurity; you had just confessed your feelings for each other, why was he sorry about that?

Jungkook exhales, a quiet sound that is nearly lost among the bustling noises of the park. If you hadn’t been sitting so close, maybe you wouldn’t have heard it at all. “I just,” he huffs, pointedly glaring at some random spot of grass beside you. His features look sharper than ever now, jawline defined, brows narrowed together. It’s a rather misplaced realization, but Jungkook looks absolutely gorgeous with distress painting his face. “I was… being selfish before.”

In the few weeks you’ve known him, you’ve come to realize Jungkook was many things. First and foremost, he’s an absolute gentleman. Raised on manners and compassion, looking after others everywhere he went. He was caring and sweet, loved this world and the people in it so much. Soft-spoken but straightforward. He was dreamy, disgustingly so.

But selfish? It definitely sounds like something Jeon Jungkook is not.

Before you can interrogate him even further, it seems like Jungkook is dead set on getting through this alone. “I- I’m sorry,” he repeats, eyes downcast. Noticing his wavering confidence, you resign yourself to listening, hand giving him a reassuring squeeze. Finally, after a short moment, Jungkook murmurs, “...in the car.” You tilt your head to the side curiously, waiting for him to go on. “I said, um. Something rude.”

It takes a moment for the memory to load, and when it finally clicks into place and begins rolling, you find yourself muttering a faint, “ah.”

If it’s what you think it is, he’s talking about last weekend outside of the church. That terribly awkward encounter that had left a sour taste in your mouth afterwards. A bad influence, you recall him saying, the memory of his voice looped in your mind the entire drive to your place.

In all honesty, it had stung a little. While you were aware that Jungkook had an ongoing mental battle, you hadn’t realized your role was that big in it. It’s the reason you had sent him home that day, made up a lie about schoolwork just to give him some space. It’s nothing new, everyone’s had someone think badly of them before; gossipy classmates, rivals, maybe even random strangers on the street. But it felt different when it was coming from someone as sweet as Jungkook, so polite and righteous, who wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Like he was stating a fact, not an opinion.

It was a slip-up on Jungkook’s end, that much you could tell. Because he had been frantic to correct himself afterwards, had looked at you with these fearful eyes, like one wrong move and you’d slip from between his hands. Luckily, you weren’t that sensitive— definitely not as sensitive as him, at least —and such a comment had been practically meaningless moments later.

Still, in those few moments where it was meaningful (read: the short period it took for Jungkook to get home and call you, the words looping around your brain until the harsh ring of your cell phone finally interrupted), it had left you wondering. Have you been pushing him too far, asking for too much? The way you saw it, you always gave Jungkook room to object to any of your advances. You know he’s trapped in his thoughts more often than not, but you pay attention to him, you really do. You make sure to take his reactions into account, try to offer solutions where possible. But, for the briefest moment, all of those efforts had felt fruitless that day in the car.

What you say next is not a complete lie; sure, Jungkook’s comment had hurt for a bit, but here he was now apologizing for it. That was a good sign… right? “It’s okay,” you brush off, patting his cheek softly, hoping with every fiber in your being that it really was okay.

Your voice is gentle, soothing his doubts. Just moments prior, Jungkook had felt like he was asking for too much, especially when your feelings toward him were up in the air. But your earnest confession soothed the ache in his heart. It’s all he’s wanted these past few months, to belong in your heart like you do his.

But the guilt from before, the tumultuous feelings he’s been harboring towards you since the weekend, dampens his excitement. From your confession alone, it doesn’t seem like you questioned Jungkook. You weren’t put off by who he was, what he loved. So why couldn’t Jungkook be like you, think like you?

“I’m still sorry,” he says again, feeling like a broken record when he catches this sympathetic smile on your face. The scraps of eloquence he had gathered while originally apologizing seem to fade away, leave him a stuttering mess when he tries again. “That was— I shouldn’t have said—“

“Hey,” you cut off, placing a hand against his cheek. It stops his fidgeting, forces him to meet your gaze head on. There’s a smile on your face but something inside of Jungkook says it doesn’t feel real. “I like you, Jungkook.”

And it’s true and genuine, your words so honest it pains him to think he had ever thought otherwise. And you’re still smiling, even after being hit with the implication that Jungkook questioned your character and maybe that’s what hurts the most. That you still try to put on an easygoing expression for him after he’s said something hurtful. It’s the car all over again, that blank look in your eyes when he had spoken carelessly.

Before he can apologize for the umpteenth time, you’re shaking your head softly, smiling anew. But this time, he can’t tell if it’s real or not. “I brought orange juice,” you say, expertly moving the conversation along. And just as Jungkook has been thinking for weeks now, it’s like you know him so well. You know when things make him anxious or uncomfortable, know just how to help him out.

There’s a feeling of guilt that blossoms in his chest, but this time it’s different.

It’s not the usual sticky gross feeling of before, the one that has him staying up at night repenting for all his wrongdoings. It’s a personal kind of guilt that comes along with the frank realization that, while you have been learning and adapting to being around Jungkook, he has not been doing the same for you.

Though you may be a little playful at times, you don’t tease him for who he is, don’t stomp all over his beliefs as much as he deluded himself into thinking you do. (That whole, faux-believer thing was a different circumstance.) Like with the cross in his house the other day. As much as Jungkook wanted to believe what you had done was evil, he had, quite honestly, enjoyed himself afterwards. There wasn’t that heavy discomfort sitting on his chest anymore, that sense of shame lingering as you’d kissed his body and let him caress yours too, in the safety of your eyes only. It was enjoyable and fun, had felt exhilarating to be so intimate with you.

And instead of being thankful for your mindful efforts, he had questioned your sincerity.

The picnic goes by in a flash. Jungkook is sad he can’t enjoy it to the fullest, his brain filled with clamorous thoughts that circled around to torture him every few minutes. Still, the entire date feels like a dream, vibrant and beautiful, leaving him in a daze. He doesn’t want to wake up.

By the time you suggest wrapping up, the sun is setting over the horizon, the windows and lights of the buildings around you slowly flickering to life like a sea of tiny stars. He feels weak in the knees as he helps you pack everything back in your basket. “All set,” you smile, walking beside him, knuckles brushing against his until you fulfill Jungkook’s wordless wish and slip your hand into his.

Jungkook agrees, hoping his hand isn’t sweaty and that you mean what you say. “I- I liked the food,” he remembers to mention, the fact that you had so carefully and lovingly prepared all this not entirely lost on him. His compliment, as simple as it may be, has you beaming at him as you exit through the park’s front gates. His car is parked along the street, the sleek vehicle coming into view as you round the street corner, hands still fastened. “Um,” he mumbles, pausing beside it. You turn to face him, eyes clear and content.

All good things come to an end, he supposes, reluctantly letting go of your hand when you tug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” you say, stepping up close, chest pressed against his. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes going wide when you nuzzle against his neck. Your hands slip around his waist. They wrap around him perfectly, make Jungkook feel like he was made for you.

By the time he’s springing into action, jerkily raising his free hand up to your back, you’re stepping away. “Call me when you get home,” you wink, sending shivers down his spine when he remembers what happened the last time you said that.

But Jungkook doesn’t think he can wait that long.

You’re slipping further and further away, fingertips just barely brushing against his forearm, when Jungkook jolts into action. “How are you, um—“ he stammers, feels too big for his shoes when you tilt your head curiously. And then, “d- do you need a ride?” he mumbles, cheeks warm.

It’s a feeble attempt at asking what he really wants. Offering you a ride home, while not a bad idea considering it was late and you had taken the bus here, is nowhere near what Jungkook really wants. What he wants is standing before him, thin spaghetti strap slipping down their shoulder, eyes sensually half-lidded and you know this too— because, again, you know Jungkook so well, know what he wants even if he can’t say it —as you step into his bubble again, peer up at him with your arms held behind your back.

“A ride home?” you ask, blinking your long lashes in a way that robs him of his breath. And he can see that switch flick on inside of you, watches that pure and innocent gleam in your eyes slowly become replaced with something mischievous. Jungkook nods dumbly. “I’d love that.”

Jungkook blinks. “Great,” he chokes out, neatly dropping the wicker basket in his hands. In a way, it brings him back down to reality, lets him snap away from your hypnotizing gaze as he reaches for the keys in his pocket. “Let me— I just have to— yeah,” he stammers, clicking the button on his car keys one too many times, has it perkily beeping. Your lips press together into an amused smile, the last thing Jungkook sees before ripping himself away from you and yanking the back door open.

He nearly throws the basket in like a madman, glassware be damned. It’s his last shred of rationality that tells him not to, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge as he steps up to the edge of the sidewalk and carefully places it on the floor behind the passenger’s seat.

When Jungkook rises back up, there is a hand that brushes against his forearm, a gentle touch that has him throwing a curious glance your way. He’s not expecting to be so entranced by the dreamy look in your eyes, feet glued to the ground as you trail your hand down, catching his wrist between your fingers. You’re standing so close, making Jungkook feel like he’s trapped between you and his own car. His entire body is on edge when you lean in, placing a soft kiss against the very corner of his mouth. It leaves a tingling sensation, and accompanied with the growing warmth beneath his skin, feels like he’s been burned. “I had fun,” you murmur, voice low. It sends a shock of electricity down his spine, a wave of exhilaration that has him fully turning to face you as you eventually step away, that same playful grin on your features again.

A surge of confidence and greed overcomes him, has him stepping forward into your space despite the nervousness that builds within him. There’s a hint of surprise in your eyes that you quickly mask, placating his bumbling nerves with a delicate hand placed over his heart. He can’t breathe when you lean in, softly humming, “kiss me?”

Jungkook’s lower lip wobbles. “O- Okay,” he concedes, voice but an airy whisper that is soon swallowed up. You taste like fruit and orange juice, remnants of your picnic clinging to your lips as you slowly consume Jungkook’s entire attention with this soft brush alone. It’s a rather short affair, one that ends all too soon when you pull away with a soft sigh against his lips.

Your smile is so pretty when you angle it at him, has him taking one jerky step backwards. His back hits the car, feels trapped. But he isn’t scared, doesn’t find himself anxiously awaiting your next move. “Good boy,” you purr, reaching one graceful hand forward, playfully tugging at his tie, wrapping it around your knuckles as you use it as leverage to pull him close again.

You’re just so pretty, Jungkook has always thought so. From the moment he first met you until now, there is something about you—a glint in your eyes, a quirk to your lips—that has had him under your spell for weeks now.

Had Jungkook seriously despised you and your ethics, perhaps this feeling would have gone away. But the fact of the matter is that you make Jungkook’s heart hammer dangerously in his chest, a shot of adrenaline through his veins when you look at him with those low-lidded eyes, touch him with those experienced hands. He wants you so bad, even after all he’s learned, all he’s seen. He wants you over him and under him, pressed against him from head to toe. He wants and he wants, and he knows it’s bad to want so much, to be so greedy. But with you around, Jungkook finds himself giving into that greed, clutching at it like a lifeline. “We can, um—,” he stammers, placing one uncertain hand against the top of the door frame beside him. You raise your brows, egging him on yet patiently waiting all at once.

Your gaze is so strong, and it’s in moments like these that Jungkook feels that feeling crawl up his throat. A serpentine gaze, a sticky sweet tongue. Everything he’s ever known says it’s wrong, but his heart and your confession says otherwise. He looks away, throws a bashful glance at the plush leather seats behind him. “In… inside?”

And the offer has you positively beaming before him, that same flirtatious shimmer in your irises doubling at the words that roll off his tongue. “Oh my,” you swoon playfully, stepping back to, Jungkook assumes, allow him to get in.

He plops down, feels like he would break out in a sweat if the evening temperature wasn’t so cool. The car’s interior blends into the shadows, his clothing practically indiscernible against the dark shade of the seats. A stark contrast to the pretty floral dress that suddenly spills itself over his lap when you climb in, the door tugged shut beside the two of you. All is silent, your thighs over his, hands on his shoulders. “Hi, bunny,” you murmur, lips pulled into a smirk, provocative yet playful, like you know something that Jungkook doesn’t.

Jungkook’s throat feels dry but he still manages to gulp. He’s drowning in your perfume and your body lotion, in the faint smell of the outdoors clinging to your clothes and your hair, the absolutely heavenly scent of just you in your entirety. “Hi,” he whispers back, voice lost beneath the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. And his quiet greeting is rewarded with two soft hands that crawl up his neck, cupping his face in their palms.

“You were so sweet today,” you purr, nose nudging against his when you finally lean in, pressing your breasts against Jungkook. A tiny gasp catches in his throat, his hands instinctively going to your waist. “Can I kiss you again?”

Jungkook has never wanted anything more. “Please,” he exhales, feeling like he’ll explode if you don’t kiss him soon. You take his request in stride, jut your face forward just the slightest bit until your mouth is pressed firmly against his, the movement of your lips a practiced rhythm that he just can’t seem to master. He still tries his best, puckers his lips when he feels it’s right, tilts his head when you urge him with a soft nudge. He tries his best and hopes it’s enough.

By now, Jungkook has come to understand that there is a pattern to your kisses. You always start off slow and relaxed, mouth languidly moving against his as you lure him across a tightrope of anticipation. They gradually become more intense, pulling out whimpers and sighs from Jungkook that he had never known were possible. It’s a carefully crafted art form, the tongue that slides out from between your pillowy lips, dips into his own mouth with a giggly pant. “Good boy,” you hum in between, hands burying themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Always so good.”

Jungkook shudders when you eventually part, can’t catch his breath fast enough before you’re reaching for the buttons on the front of his shirt, easily undoing the casual tie too. “Relax,” you tell him, bypassing his lips for the warm expanse of skin just below. You kiss over his chin, down his neck, as your hands crawl beneath his shirt and around his naked waist.

He’s ticklish, and when you brush against his ribs, he unwillingly releases a sharp huff of laughter. It’s followed by a wide-eyed look of embarrassment, cheeks a warm hue when you lean back in surprise at this new bit of information. “I— sorry,” he blurts out, because he doesn’t know proper make-out etiquette, doesn’t know anything really, except what you’ve shown him.

But the sound makes you snort, looking at him with this gaze that drips with honey. “So cute,” you tell him, placing a chaste kiss against his lips, before disappearing back down to lavish his throat with filthier kisses. And with you laving your tongue across his skin, biting at every inch available, Jungkook is left to fuzzily stare over the crystal clear windshield. He’s struck with the faint realization that if someone were to look hard enough, they would see him through the tinted glass as he fell apart into the hands of a pretty girl.

The soft smack of your lips against his skin is sensual, makes every hair on his body stand stiff. Your lips trail down the column of his neck, placing a bruising kiss at the juncture where it meets the rest of his body. “Oh,” he sighs, eyelids fluttering when a hand squeezes at his chest, thumb against his nipple.

Another muffled giggle pressed against the base of his neck, and when Jungkook focuses his eyes again, he catches his own gaze in the rearview mirror.

The sight of him is… weird to say the least.

Even in the dark, his lips look thoroughly debauched, puffier and redder than usual, slick with saliva that isn’t entirely his. He doesn’t tell himself to, but his mirrored counterpart peeks his tongue out, runs it along his top lip sinfully. Startled by his own appearance, Jungkook jolts in place, feeling you shift in his lap with a soft little whine. “Bunny,” you frown, and Jungkook watches your side profile in the tiny mirror as you sit back up, press your lips against his ear. “Sit still for me,” you tell him, hand slithering up his chest, around his throat. Over his Adam’s apple, squeezing just the slightest. It’s not tight, but it knocks the air out of his lungs when he sees the action mirrored back at him on the reflective surface.

That familiar guilt sticks in his throat, evident when your hand slips away and he swallows harshly, the protrusion just beneath his skin bobbing up and down.

In the back of Jungkook’s mind, he can recall the religious story that surrounded this bodily feature; a sin and the consequence. A garden and a fruit, a beautiful woman by his side.

Your hand creeps down between your bodies, palming over his quickly fattening cock, and Jungkook swears he sees stars, a strained whimper escaping from his lips that you giggle at. “Oh my,” he huffs, clutching at the skirt of your dress. You nuzzle close again, pressing a tender kiss against the side of his neck.

Your hands are so soft and sweet, brushing over his cock like you’re simply caressing him out of adoration and not because you want him to cum, staining his seats and your dress. Either way, Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine what you must be thinking; before the date and his confession, he had been afraid that you would discard him. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t what you wanted, maybe he wasn’t what you needed. You were so confident in yourself and your actions, a stark contrast to Jungkook and his constant uncertainty, his fear of doing the wrong thing plaguing him at all hours of the day.

Even now, with your hands expertly tugging his zipper down, he finds himself going back to that story. That apple in the garden, the consequences it had hailed. Never mind the fact you’re on top of him, claiming to like him, with your hands touching every inch of his skin. He keeps looping back to that Biblical verse instead, thinks about it when your fingers meanly let the elastic band of his briefs snap against his skin. “Ouch,” he flinches, voice a soft whine. He turns too quickly and too suddenly, nose bumping against yours because you’re still so close.

You smile, puckering your lips for the lightest of kisses. It’s the little things like that that make Jungkook’s entire thought process stall, distantly aware of the fact that it’s, like always, you leading the majority of your encounters once again. Even during your picnic, it had been you who had practically held his hand as you navigated through basic information, asked for his favorite color and his favorite drink. Had it not been for your own proactive tendencies, Jungkook fears he would have never known your favorite color was pink or your favorite day of the week was Thursday.

It’s a fact that makes him pause, jaw tightening as he once again realizes how little effort he was putting into knowing you. For someone who claimed to like you a lot, he rarely did the work to prove it. Even now, he’s too unsure of who he is and who you are to indulge you properly, instead watching you lead the scene as usual. Before he can stop himself, a sigh is escaping his lips.

It must convey his emotions perfectly, because it’s enough to make your wandering hands pause by his waist. “Everything okay?” you ask, always knowing what he’s feeling. And it sucks that he couldn’t say the same for himself.

“N— Yes,” he rushes to say, looking up at you with round eyes, the moonlight painting half of your face a paler color than usual, the other side shrouded in darkness. It makes your eyes look darker, makes Jungkook gulp loudly when you turn those inquisitive eyes on him.

His answer doesn’t seem to convince you, and it’s with little to no hesitation that you sit back. It puts a distance between the two of you that Jungkook can’t say he’s a fan of. “Jungkook,” you say, voice stern yet warm, one hand reaching up to brush your knuckles against his cheek. “Tell me what’s bothering you?”

It makes Jungkook nervous. He knows he thinks too much. Part of him fears that oversharing with you will drive you away, put you even farther than you are now. Maybe next time it’ll be a room’s length away, a football field’s length away. And he doesn’t want that; he wants to hold you close, he really does. But there are traditions he carries and beliefs he holds dearly that make it hard for him to do so, as much as it pains him.

The only reason he knows he’s frowning is because you press your pointer finger against the corner of his mouth. You lean in close, nose bumping against his. It sends your scent billowing over him, makes him dizzy when he becomes aware of the hand he’s got on your bare thigh, the rumpled skirt of your dress pushed away. “Talk to me, bunny,” you murmur. You don’t make a move to kiss him, a fact that Jungkook feels both grateful and disheartened by. “Please?”

And he can’t deny you, not when you ask so nicely. You have this metaphorical grip on Jungkook, a tight hold around his throat that has made him act impulsively these past few weeks, desperate to be with you, to please you. Even now, despite how much he wants to withhold his thoughts, he finds himself quietly admitting them instead. “I want to know you,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eye. You don’t push him to. “I really, um. I like you, __. A lot.” It’s a repetition of his earlier confession. And still, it makes him nervous. A thumb brushes against his cheekbone, encouraging him to meet your solemn gaze even if it means being a blushing mess afterwards. “Before we, uh, do… things.”

His words may be choppy and incoherent, but you understand him all the same. “You want to go out some more,” you clarify, removing your hand from his cheek. The phantom trail of your fingertips on his skin remains, feels colder when you lean away to allow him some more space.

Jungkook nods quickly, hoping this rush of adrenaline might help him through this. He bites down on his lower lip, carefully analyzing your expression for any signs of disbelief or disgust. But all he sees is understanding, a cool expression that makes Jungkook’s heart thunder. “I…,” he says, glancing down at where he’s still got his hand on your naked skin. Something inside of him tells him to rub his thumb across it, an action he doesn’t think through until he hears a sharp inhale, watches goosebumps rise over the skin. “I’m sorry,” he rushes out, snatching his hand away before he can do something else of a similar sort. “I- I just—“ said hand now waves around wildly beside him “—I really like you, as a, um— uh. A person. And I—“ and this is where he becomes aware of his unbuttoned shirt and the way you’ve got your pretty pussy pressed against his thigh now “—I, um. I want to know me— I mean, you —better? More? Like—“

His embarrassing babbling is cut off with a gentle kiss to his lips. No tongue, no saliva. Just soft lips against his, a delicate hand against his shoulders. When you pull away, Jungkook unconsciously trails after the touch, eyes half-lidded and in a daze when you place a palm on his chest. “I got it,” you say, lips quirking into a tiny smile. “I want to know more about you too, bunny,” you admit, reaching for the front of his shirt. He watches on with flushed cheeks as you slowly button it up for him, finishing it off with a playful tap against the underside of his chin.

You glance out of the window thoughtfully. Jungkook is suddenly reminded of how pretty you are, your skin practically glimmering under the pale moonlight. It catches on your necklace, a thin chain with a cross on the end. If he focuses his eyes behind you, his own reflection stares back once more. Jungkook’s entire body threatens to lock up tightly, but a single kiss on the cheek from you interrupts the process. “Do you wanna date?” you ask, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Jungkook can’t agree fast enough. “I— yes,” he gasps, leaning forward too suddenly. It makes you flinch back in surprise, back pressing up against the driver’s seat behind you in surprise. You wouldn’t have fallen or anything, but Jungkook reacts like it was a serious possibility anyway, grasping at your waist and pulling you snug against him, soft thighs sandwiching his tiny waist. “Oh, God,” he frets, immediately moving to release you.

But you catch him with two arms thrown around his neck, pulling Jungkook close to you for another kiss. Deeper and… meaningful, your satiny lips carefully slotted against his. While it surprises him at first, Jungkook finds himself melting into it soon enough. This was okay, he tells himself, and for the first time in a few weeks, he finds himself believing it.

It was just kissing— intimate yet appropriate kissing —between two people who were seeing each other. Him, properly seeing you. His heart threatens to burst out of its cage for a second. It’s the first time since he’s met you that he can fully say he hadn’t felt nervous about his actions, hadn’t felt like he was committing some grave sin for chasing after your touch. It was just a kiss, simple and sweet, making both of you smile bashfully when you eventually pull away. There was no lying and no guilt, no tears and no stress.

It felt good.

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeon jungkook fic #jjk fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

The late Daniel Fenton

It was shaping up to be a beautiful if chilly December day and Casper High, as always, was bustling. It was 7:49 and class was about to start. The teacher watched the last few kids stumbling in at various levels of wakefulness. He already knew who would be the ones to rush in after the bell but that was alright. Life was too short to stress about being a few minutes late to class, especially in Amity Park of all places.

He looked up to see Madison, one of his shyer students walk in before making a beeline for his desk. She was biting her lip and nervously rubbing her hand down her skirt. “Hey,” she began quietly.

“Good morning. What’s up, Mads?” He asked casually. She looked upset, he could probably put on a video for the class if she needed to talk. They really needed a permanent counselor but the constant ghost attacks ran off most of them so he’d taken up the unofficial mantle. It felt good to help his students like that, make up for past wrongs.

“Are we um, expecting any new students?” She asked, her eyes darting over to the door she’d just come through. “Any transfers, exchange students or anything like that?”

“No,” the teacher frowned. “Amity isn’t the kind of place people transfer into. Why?”

“There’s a kid in the hallway,” she mumbled. “I don’t recognize him, he’s got a backpack and everything but he’s... I don’t know he doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh you’re talking about that weird dark haired kid,” Kyle said as he entered and sat down with a slouch. But even the class slacker looked unusually tense. “Dude’s creepy, can’t put my finger on why but he definitely doesn’t belong.”

“Oh,” was all the teacher had to say. Suddenly he realized how cold the classroom had become, the uncomfortable feeling that was pressing ever so slightly down on them. “I suppose it makes sense, the ghosts have been quiet lately with the Truce and all. He probably got bored.”

“Sir?” Madison said.

“Shannon,” he said instead, looking over at the frizzy haired girl hunched over her sketchbook furiously at work. “Would you do me a favor and move to the vacant seat in the second row? Just for today.”

“What? Why?” the girl whined even as she gathered up her various arts supplies and got ready to move.

“That’s Mr. Fenton’s seat,” he said taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes in preparation for what he was about to see. Danny would come here, of course he would. This was Lancer’s old classroom and Danny had him for first period English Lit. He and Dash both did.

“Mr. Baxter? What’s going on, is it a ghost?” Malik asked from the back row while Shannon shuffled to her new temporary seat.

“Yes but you don’t need to be scared,” he said softly, evenly. “He won’t hurt you.” The bell rang but Dash didn’t start the lesson. Instead, he waited. Danny had never been on time to class the entire time Dash had known him, of course death wouldn’t change that.

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Lancer,” Dash gripped his desk so he didn’t jump when Danny Fenton simply appeared in front of his desk instead of walking through the door like any other student. “My folks couldn’t drive me, they’re still working on their stupid ghost portal.” A quick glance over at this class showed varying levels of fear, shock and curiosity but they were Amity kids through and through. The cold, powerful energy radiating off Fenton told them it was best to play along with whatever the ghost wanted.

“Perfectly alright Mr. Fenton,” Dash said softly, searching the 14 year old’s perpetually young face. He hadn’t changed a bit since Dash last saw him their second week of freshman year. It seemed unreal seeing how the years had taken their toll on Casper’s favorite son, Dash Baxter. God had they really been that young once? “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Danny shrugged and walked over to the seat Shannon had just vacated. He sat just the same, one leg stretched out and the other propped up against the leg of the desk. As soon as he took off the backpack and put it around the chair, it disappeared. He didn’t say anything else, just sat as stared at Dash with piercing blue eyes like he could see right through him.

“We had been talking about the lead up to the Civil War but let’s table that for today,” Dash said, proud his voice only wavered a little. He knew other people had seen Fenton around town. Lina saw him standing outside the Nasty Burger maybe five or so years ago. Dale, who used to live near Fenton Works swore he sometimes saw someone moving through the windows of the long abandoned house. He’d always secretly dreaded the thought of seeing Danny Fenton again, afraid he’d finally get was coming to him.

“Instead, we’re going to talk about local history,” he continued, not daring to take his eyes off the undead teen. Every other living student was tense, afraid. He wished he could assure them that the ghost wouldn’t lay a hand on them. In the event Fenton decided to ditch the hero schtick, it would be Dash and Dash alone he’d come after. “Amity Park has long had rumors of being haunted dating all the way back to the 1600s. It wasn’t until the last century that scientists determined that Amity Park is located on top of a thin spot between our world and the ghost realm. Natural portals form here all the time allowing spirits to pass through.”

No one spoke and barely anyone breathed except for Danny would wasn’t breathing at all. He just sat and stared at Dash with steady, unblinking eyes.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton were the scientists who discovered the weak point in reality in Amity. They devoted their entire life to the study of ghosts and made remarkable advancements in our knowledge of ectobiology and culture, the first being,” he paused as Danny cocked his head in confusion, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Dash. “The first being their manmade portal to the ghost zone. The portal remained active for almost two decades for research purposes but was shut down following their deaths.”

“You’re not Mr. Lancer,” Danny said suddenly, his eyes shifting from baby blue to an ectoplasmic green. Marty, who was sitting to the left of Danny, swallowed a squeak of fear and squeezed his eyes shut.

“No,” Dash sighed, “Lancer died almost thirty years ago now. Best teacher I ever had, he gave me his blessing when he passed on the job to me.”

“I,” the ghost ran his hand through his hair which was starting to lose its color. Seeing Fenton looking so scared and confused made him ache. It reminded him of old times. Dash had spent most of his life making sure he helped hurt kids if only to make up for the one he’d never been able to make it up to. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, Danny,” he soothed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“The portal, it wasn’t working at first,” Danny justified, his aura glowing a little more. “Sam and Tuck, they were curious. They wanted to look but I told them it wasn’t allowed, Sam, Sam she dared me to go in. I put on the hazmat suit and went inside and found the on button inside. I accidentally hit it and-” he paused midsentence and looked down at his hands. They weren’t pale flesh anymore but covered in white gloves. The black was completely bleached from his hair. A few of the students gasped as they saw the strange would be student melt into Phantom, the ghostly hero who’d been protecting their town since their parents were young. “I died.”

So much time had gone by. People were born and people were buried and the truth became distorted until it was just a legend passed jokingly around cafeteria lunch tables. Amity’s youth had forgotten their town’s history until it was sitting in a desk, trying once more to be one of them.

“You did,” Dash said sadly. He remembered hearing the news of Fenton's death. An assembly had been called the morning after the accident. Lancer had cried at the podium, Manson and Foley hadn’t returned to school for a week and had never been the same again. Dash hadn’t known what to think at the time, only that the kid he’d beat up for the crime of being different would never show up to school again. Or so he’d thought. “It was a tragedy, you were mourned by a lot of people.”

“I know you, don’t I?” Danny said quietly before he sat up straighter. “Dash?”

“In the flesh,” Dash grinned shakily.

“But you’re so old,” Danny said, once more distressed. “Your hair is grey and there’s wrinkles on your face and-and you’re a teacher now?” The last line was said with incredulity, his eyes flaring again. “You used to push me down the stone steps of the school and shove me into my locker and call me names.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, feeling every one of his years. He was pushing 70 but he didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling like a stupid 14 year old who took out his frustrations on the ones who didn’t deserve it. “But you were the last; I never touched another kid again. I’m married now, four kids. I’m vice principal now, teach History and coach the school’s football team. It’s,” his voice caught again, still unable to process how young and stupid Fenton looked sitting there like no time had passed at all. It made Dash feel like all his accomplishments and attempts to be better would never amount to anything so long as his last victim roamed the earth unable to find peace. “It doesn’t fix what I did back then but I make damn sure that there won’t be any bullying at Casper so long as I’m here.”

“Huh,” Danny said, slouching once more in his seat but it looked less like his earlier teenage laziness and more weary. He and Dash were the same age after all, just because only one of them got old doesn’t mean time didn’t still affect them. “You did change, a lot of things did.” Danny looked down at the desk, “how long has it been?”

“Almost 50 years,” Dash sighed. “My wife wants me to retire but I guess I always find more things to do.” He paused then decided it was now or never. “I’m sorry Danny, for hurting you back then. I wish I'd gotten to know you better.”

For just a moment, Danny was perfectly clear. Even half floating out of his chair and looking like the local celebrity, his eyes were so painfully human. A boy killed before he ever got a chance to get started. Who’s will to protect was so strong it lasted half a century. It haunted him late at night to think of the glory and power of Phantom overshadowing just how incredible Danny Fenton had been. Not that anyone had seen it at the time. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left to remember that quiet, kind teenager and then Danny Fenton really would be dead. Kill him just as thoroughly as that portal had.

The moment was broken by a breath of cold leaking out of the ghost’s lips and, just like that, his highschool classmate was gone and Phantom was left in his stead. He looked curiously around the classroom as if he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.

“There’s a ghost, stay here and don’t leave unless the fighting gets too close. I’ll get it though, don’t worry. No kids are dying today.” Maybe it was Dash’s imagination but he thought he saw Phantom’s eyes linger on him for an extra moment, trying to place where he knew the teacher from. Dash just smiled.

“Our lives are in your hands. Good luck, Phantom,” the ghost teen saluted before fading away entirely. Dash let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, suddenly exhausted but also lighter at the same time. It wasn’t every day you got to look your mistakes in the face and apologize. “Shannon, you can move back now.”

“No, I’m okay here,” Shannon said as she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook and looked intently at the spot where Fenton had once sat. “It’s like you said, that’s Danny’s seat.”

“I had no idea, Phantom’s been around for like, ever,” Freddie mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “But he used to be just like us.” And still was, Dash thought sadly. Danny would never grow old, never go to space like he’d always dreamed or marry Manson like he’d probably intended to. He was stuck, in more ways than one for who knows how long.

“Yes, that’s why it’s important to know your history. The Civil War and my other lessons are important but we can’t forget these smaller, more intimate histories. If we lose these lessons to time then we risk repeating the same mistakes over again.” He looked his students in the eyes, holding their attention.

“So we’ll continue today with the local history. Before he was ghost butt kicking superhero, Phantom was Danny Fenton, son of the local ghost hunters and a bit of an outcast in town. The Daniel Fenton Foundation was founded about a year after his death and was-”

#danny phantom #dead danny au #if bitch fartman won't redeem dash then I guess it up to me #god can you imagine growing up and growing old only to look at your past victim in the eye and see nothing has changed for him?#i could go on and on about what other characters got up to #but this is about the tragedy of the loss of Danny Fenton #not only his life but his memory #time moves on and Fenton got lost in the mix #once Dash's generation dies then Fenton will just be a cautionary tale #a ghost story #No one will remember that their hero was one long before he got his powers #god Im fuckign sad now #eat up and enjoy your angst

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lovesick-panmess · 3 years

Text

Protect Them

Soo I know I'm way overdue with the 3rd part of my Armageddon AU but I've actually been replaying the lessons so I get a proper feel for what I'm writing, so to make up for it and to get this idea out of my head I've been thinking about it for days here is a related fic between the oldest brothers

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Levi can count on one hand how many times he's seen Lucifer coming home injured. The Avatar of Pride could easily crush irrelevant demons with his glare and he proved worthy of Diavalo's right-hand man for a reason... But the first time that Levi remembers was on a travel mission with Lord Diavalo within a year after their fall from grace. It was a distant memory, seeing Lucifer stumble up the stairs blooded up and adamantly refusing care from any of them, even Mammon who was following behind his every footstep. He had gotten used to such behavior and just settled for turning up his headphones on his way to the safe haven that was his room, stopping when he noticed the eldest's door cracked open. He watched Mammon gingerly wrap the bandage around his shoulder, blinking back tears in his eyes and shaking his head vehemently as Lucifer spoke. The music was loud and distracting he just settled for reading their lips-

"Mammon I need you to do this for me.."

"I won't! There's no need, ya just paranoid-!"

Watching the tears well up made Levi shift, uncomfortable and jealous, wondering what bond allowed them to be so vulnerable so open. Hadn't they all fought their father together? Rallied behind him so readily behind Lucifer, their Morningstar that only shined a light that only Mammon was allowed to see. He lingered before continuing to walk down the hall, to dwell in his own sunken loneliness but hearing Mammon speak one more time before the door had shut.

"..I'll do it, alright? Just stop ya crying, Luci.."

He had felt the deja vu of that very moment playing out in front of him, though this time he was hiding from Mammon in his secret spot in the living room. They had planned to go to the movies in an hour and Levi knew that Mammon would try to find him to convince him to pay for the tickets yet again so he decided to wait out the time so that scumbag would have to bring his wallet. It was a surprise to see the door open, everyone else is out and Lucifer's return to be scheduled for a few more days, but instead, the eldest had come early with visible wounds and beatings. Levi felt frozen, debating on whether he should slip out to help or stay putt but once again Mammon comes down the stairs like it's his calling. "Lucifer? Let me help you!" Denial was the first given reaction, the eldest's heart too hard and stubborn to ask for help before collapsing into Mammon's arms.

Levi followed with anxiety brewing in his chest, now wanting to just hide away in his room since plans were clearly on hold and he could do nothing to help the pair. Not like they would want his help, a shitty pathetic otaku wasn't much good at bandaging wounds, not like he was able to get much practice like Mammon did. Jealousy seethed, it made his heart race as he hid to the side of the door at the mention of his name.

"We have to tell him, Mams."

"We don't have to tell him shit! It's fine like this...Levi doesn't have to be involved."

It was confusing to be thrown out of the loop, but it hurt to hear Mammon so effortlessly fight to not include him. Maybe the second-born felt that Levi wasn't worth it? Too weak and unable to do..whatever it is they are arguing about, even so, it was odd-looking into Lucifer's room. Mammon unafraid of the eldest's temper and even being so bold as to glare at him while cleaning his cuts, Lucifer had an expression of utter fondness that was intertwined with an unlabeled fear, one that only he seemed to see.

"Mammon, you know it takes a lot out of me to..admit this. I'm almost jealous that you're able to view me so..."

Shit shit shit, he had been so entrapped in their conversation and his own envy he hadn't realized that it was emitting throughout the hall. He stiffens when Lucifer calls his name, slipping out from where he was hiding and now embarrassed. "Levi..come here please." He notes that Mammon refuses to look at him, biting his bottom lip hard as he sits next to his brother, so not used to this soft tone from him. He really must have stepped into a completely different world, one where Lucifer is willing to fight tooth and nail with his own pride in order to tell them the truth. And what a horrid truth it must be.

"Lucifer what's going on? Why is Mammon..." He trails off, feeling Lucifer's hand skim through his hair, and despite his own embarrassment leaned into the comforting touch and suddenly the bottle of Demonus was looking very tempting. "Levi...I would like to involve you in something very important, in order to protect the others." Lucifer's words were slow, each one taking some kind of will to overcome his pride, his wings twitching in what Levi could easily place as anxiety and one he knew way too well. "I'm not allowed to say anything about the threat outside of the Devildom but it puts us at risk and I...There may be a chance I won't come back."

His stomach drops, he doesn't realize that he's shaking until he feels Mammon's arms wrapping around his shoulder, shaking his head in pure denial. Not Lucifer, the most powerful one of them all, their eldest brother not coming back. Such thoughts were unfathomable to even believe, much less considered as a probability to the point that they had to talk about it. Acknowledge it and take action, Lucifer keeps talking and Mammon presses Levi closer to his chest, "I talked this with Mammon since the beginning but now we believe it's time to tell you in case something were ever to happen to the both of us and you would decide when to tell Satan..."

The prospect of such responsibility makes Levi feel like a fish out of water as he gulps for air yet in that same breath go on a rampage of self-deprecation and drowning doubt. How he's not ready, he's a good-for-nothing shitty pathetic otaku, he can't protect his brothers, he's weak, he's nothing, if Lucifer and Mammon are gone then there would be no fucking hope for them. The two oldest look at each other, small bits of regret building up from the pressure and burden they had put on him, Mammon gently rubbing his back and Lucifer cupping his face. "Leviathan please breathe."

His body does it automatically before he can think about it, the air in his lungs felt like boiling water as the panic slowly dissipates in his chest. All that was left was his own soft mutterings, so sure that Lucifer was probably disappointed that he has to trust in Levi of all people to protect them, he leans against Mammon who nudges him affectionately before resting his head on his shoulder. "I...I haven't really done anything good since...I was General...how can you be so sure in me?" He asks but squirms unready for whatever the answer might be, though he's unable to mistake Lucifer's radiating pride that he feels.

"Who's the one who came up with the plan on where to steal the weapons in the Celestial Realm?"

"M-Me but I-"

"And who helped convince the others to lay low while we defended the base?"

"I did but Luci-"

"Who's the one who took an arrow for Mammon while he was trying to protect me?"

"Lucifer-!"

He gets cut off with a flick on his forehead, his lips set in a pout but meeting the Morningstar's expression that made butterflies bloom in his stomach from overwhelming pride had him turn away and looking down at the floor. "Levi, get out of your head for one second and look at how smart and tactical you are. When it matters...when there is no time to panic. You're the third strongest family for a fucking reason, you should start believing it." The unusual confidence makes him flush but it's really Lucifer's words that bring the tears, no longer from fear but slowly coming to the realization that Lucifer and Mammon too had faith in him...they always did.

"Do ya still wanna join the pact? If ya wanna think about it, ya still can Levi." He blinks at the fact that Mammon had really been silent this whole time and just hugging him, the second born now getting up to tighten the remaining bandages. "Did you think about it, Mammon?" Levi knew the answer in his gut, only the blind would question the unwavering devotion that Mammon and Lucifer had for each other, only further cemented as the Avatar of greed simply shakes his head. He feels a small smile form on his face, "Then I don't need to think about it...I want to do this."

By the next few hours, any of the remaining tension and somber feelings had slipped away, replaced by a calm atmosphere that usually would not last long in the House of Lamentation. The melody of the cursed record floated and hung in the air as Levi rested on the floor in his demon form, the pact officially made and learning about the secret doorway by Lucifer's bookcase, definitely locking that information into memory. He sees Mammon grinning above him, curiosity embedded in his features, "So where'd ya decide to put the pact mark?" Levi lifts his sweater, the symbol of the three still glow fresh on the side by his ribs, and Mammon hissing with empathy.

He wanted it to hurt weirdly enough, to serve as a forever reminder that this pain was temporary but the pain of losing his brothers would surely last till the end of time. Mammon shows the mark on his hand, Lucifer clicks his tongue in disapproval as someone might ask about the pact but the second brother waves his concern away. He enjoys looking at the pact, the constant reassurance that they would be okay when the word goes to absolute shit, and Lucifer couldn't find any argument against that. They both look at the eldest who crosses his arms with a sharp, "No-" before puppy eyes come into play and Lucifer's pride can not save him from that.

What they both don't expect is for Lucifer to turn around and spread his wings out as if to show off, but then they see it. The markings trailing up his spine and next to the scars of where his two wings used to be, Levi is the first to reach up and touch it, internally blaming the remnants of Lucifer's pride that is making him so bold. He sees his hand tremble but luckily he is able to hold his voice steady, "Just because we made this pact..doesn't mean you both get to just fuck up. Y-You both should always come home." Lucifer nods, Mammon kisses his cheek and Levi struggles to hide his tears.

When Levithan leaves the room while closing the door behind him, reality, as he knew it just a few hours ago, wasn't all that different and he can hear Asmo drunkenly cheering as Satan carries him through the door. "Hey, Levi! Don't hide in your room- you better come join us." He doesn't give his thoughts a chance, heading down the stairs with a small smile. The world hadn't changed, but Levi would be forever.

----------

AHHH THIS HAS BEEN SITTING THE DRAFTS FOREVER I'M SO GLAD I FINISHED IT. Please please let me know if I should make an explanation post of how the pacts would work (it will most likely be headcanons cause I don't know how they work in canon 😪😪)

either way, I really hope you enjoyed the fic as I did writing it! I'm still working on the next part for the Armageddon AU so bear with me 😭

#obey me #angst #lucifer angst #mammon and lucifer #obey me angst #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date?#obey me leviathan #levi angst #mammon and levi #mammon angst #Lucifer angst #armageddonau

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falcqns · 3 years

Text

my little flower

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x mom!reader

summary: bucky’s daughter turns one.

warnings: angst, and fluff. probably canon errors but i don’t have the comics on hand sorryyyyy

a/n: just me expressing emotion through mr boobky boobernoobs. also the little letter the reader has written is what i have written for my daughters birthday. LASTLY i know i have a story for Henry Cavill and his daughters name is lavender and i was gonna change it but then it wouldn’t make sense so i just kept it yk. anyways, hope you enjoy.

Bucky glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

he was alternating between looking at the clock, his phone, and his sleeping daughter.

she turned one tomorrow, and he had no clue what to write. there were so many things he wanted to say, but he knew he had limited space on instagram captions to do so.

he wasn’t into instagram too much, but some how Sam and Wanda had convinced him to post for his daughters birthday. he had a few other pictures of you and her, and one or two of him on there already.

posting those seemed so easy for him. he took the picture, thought of a caption pre war Bucky would use, and hit post.

but when it came to his daughters birthday? the 106 year old was clueless.

he had asked you for advice, and you had just told him to remember what it felt the first time he held her, which was not helpful, because the first thing he felt was fear.

then, an overwhelming and crushing sense of love. like everything made sense. everything was clearer, because of the tiny little baby in his arms. he was terrified. more scared than he was when he was hanging on to that train for dear life, hoping he could just reach Steve’s hand. more scared than when he knew his memories of Steve and Rebecca and everyone in his past was fading due to Zola and Hydra.

a million times more scared than when he watched himself dust away in that beautiful Wakandan forest.

he was scared, but at the same time, he felt so safe. it was the same kind of safe he felt with you, but more intense. he knew that the little girl he was holding would never judge him for his past. all she would do is love him, love her Tătic.

Tătic. he had heard a Romanian child say it when he was seeking refuge in Bucharest, and he knew that’s what he wanted to be called. not dad, daddy, dada, papa, or any other versions of father. he wanted Tătic.

he felt safe, at home even, in Bucharest. yes, his apartment was rather shitty, but it was his. he had something materialistic and tangible that was fully his, after not having anything, not even his own body, to himself for over 50 years.

Bucky refocused his eyes on his phone, and decided to glance at what you had posted. he sighed as he realized that it was absolutely beautiful, and that nothing he could do would top it.

it was a video of all the firsts that Bucky had insisted on recording. he remembered sitting in his bed, in Bucharest, a few weeks after getting there. he had been thinking about Rebecca, and suddenly, a memory of her first steps came to him. he saw her little chubby body wobble before she took her first steps into their mother’s waiting arms. Bucky knew he couldn’t have been too old, but immediately started sobbing when he realized he’d never get to relive that moment. he didn’t stop sobbing for a good few hours. out of happiness, sadness, regret, he didn’t know. he had scrambled to grab a journal and wrote down every detail of that moment, before stuffing it in his go bag.

reliving it wasn’t something he’d ever thought about before, in 1945. there weren’t affordable video cameras, and there was no way to store them forever. so when Lavender came along, he insisted that every little first be recorded so he could relive it over and over again.

he watched as she took her first breath, rolled for the first time, crawled for the first time, said her first word (it was ‘plum’) and walked for the first time.

his eyes drifted down to the paragraph, and focused on reading the words.

‘lavender.

your name represents purity, silence, devotion, calmness, serenity, and grace. i gave you this name because i know you will represent all of those things. i named you after Lavender Brown from Harry Potter. Lavender was a beautiful, strong, and amazing character. she showered Ron with love, and adoration, which is all i have felt this past year of being your mama. you remind me of Lavender in so many ways. from the smiles i get to see in the morning, to the cuddles i get at night, to the way you, just this week, saw another child crying in daycare and went and offered your toy up without a second thought. you then hobbled away, and found a new toy. you never came to me to show you what you did, you never took another child’s toy now that yours was gone, you just did it. that is something Lavender did. Lavender gave everything to Ron without a second thought. she may not have been appreciated, but i will appreciate you and all of the little things that you do to help others, even at just a year old. you bring light and love to whoever is near you. you love with your whole being, which i adore. you’re only one, but you put your hands in the air and sing (babble, really) along to every single praise song, you dance, you sit quietly during prayer, and most importantly you love God with everything in your tiny little body. from the moment the nurses laid your even tinier body on my chest, it was just you, me, and your father. i had dreamed of that moment for years, but nothing compared to it. one year ago today, you were placed on my chest, a screaming red little bundle, and you instantly calmed down. i remember looking down at you and being so happy that i finally had my little girl. i remember thinking “God really sent me an angel in the form of a baby,” which is EXACTLY what he did. you are my sweet baby girl, and always will be. i will love and. adore you for the rest of my life. my sweetie pie, my Laffy Taffy, my love. my little flower, Lavender. happy birthday.’

how could he follow that?

he took another glance at the crib that sat at the end of the bed, and watched as his daughter sighed, and pushed her diapered butt up in the air before continuing to snooze.

he looked down at his phone, and decided to just follow his heart. let the words flow. it didn’t matter if it made sense, but he wanted the world to know just how much he loved her.

he took a deep breath, and began to type.

‘lavender rebecca barnes.

there are so many words that i could use to describe how wonderful, sweet, kind, adorable, and gracious you are, but even all of those could never fully express how much i love you, and how much you mean to me.

when your mom told me about you, i was terrified. i have done so many bad things in my life, why was God rewarding me with a tiny little human? i spent so many nights praying to God that i would never hurt you. that you would never see me as the world does. that you would never judge me for the things that i did.

but i didn’t have to worry. the second i saw your little face, all of those stresses and anxieties melted away. as i held you, i realized that you were mine. fully mine. having something of my own is something that i was deprived of for many years, and one day you will learn about that.

when i held you for the first time, i was petrified. you were tiny. the smallest, but most real thing i had ever held. you didn’t cry, you just gazed up at me. almost as if you knew i was your Tătic. that you knew i was your father.

your mother tells me that when babies are born, they don’t understand the grasp of ‘mother and father’, they more recognize who is a safe caregiver and who isn’t.

you, without a hesitation, recognized me as a safe caregiver, and have stood by that every one of these last 365 you have graced me, your mother, and everyone around you with your presence.

it has been a pleasure to watch you grow, and as much as it makes me sad knowing that one day you’ll know the truth about me, i know you won’t judge me. i know you will love me for me. the man who created you, who helped give you life.

you are such a special little girl, and i can only hope to show you just how special you are for the rest of my life.

i love you, lavender rebecca barnes.’

his thumb shook as it hovered over the post button, but he pressed it anyways. the screen brought up a loading symbol for less than a second, and then the post was there.

he shut off his phone, and placed it on the charger next to him, before getting up and walking to the crib.

he lifted her out, and laid her on his chest, before walking back to the bed and sitting down carefully. he gazed down at his daughter, a fact that still blew his mind, as she slept so soundly, even with the coolness of the metal arm probably seeping through the fabric of her white kitty cat onesie.

he glanced over at the clock, and didn’t stop the tear that rolled down his face when it hit 12:00.

“happy birthday, my little flower.”

#bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #mcu bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan man you lookin good

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 28 - ao3 -

The answer, it turned out, was paint.

It wasn’t an answer that Lan Qiren would have anticipated in any way, shape, or form. He had been under the impression, as had Lao Nie, that Wen Ruohan had stopped painting long ago. After some teasing by Lao Nie, the man had even off-handedly confirmed it at a private dinner they’d shared at a discussion conference – there had been more than usual planned in this past year, accounting for the fact that all of the Great Sect sect leaders (except Wen Ruohan) were unusually young, and therefore active. And although no one acknowledged it as a reason, everyone knew that it was also meant to help calm the concerns of the smaller sects regarding the chaos in their Great Sect leaders’ personal lives, between Jiang Fengmian losing his servant to his beloved or possibly the other way around, Lao Nie’s extremely bizarre marriage situation, and Lan Qiren stepping up unexpectedly to the position of sect leader on account of his brother’s retreat from the world.

According to Wen Ruohan, it hadn’t been anything in particular that had made him stop painting, only a lack of time and then of interest; there had been a severe crisis some time ago, long before either of them were born, and he had been obligated to devote himself exclusively to those affairs for an extended period of time. When he had finally resurfaced, years later, he had returned and found an old painting sitting there half-finished, and staring at it, realized that he was no longer the same man who had begun it.

He had never painted again.

Lan Qiren was unsure if this was a real story or not – Wen Ruohan, he had learned, seemed to consider the truth about his past to be little more than a gentleman’s agreement between friends – as it seemed to be an especially pointed reminder aimed at Lan Qiren’s situation in particular.

Lao Nie had certainly taken it as such, throwing in his own concerns about Lan Qiren’s work schedule, and when even Cangse Sanren had joined the growing mob of all the rest of his friends, Lan Qiren had finally, if reluctantly, agreed to defer to their concern. He’d finally taken a step back and reorganized his duties as sect leader, standing his ground against the elders and insisting on having more time to devote to his own interests, including those outside of his work as a teacher – music, study, quiet contemplation, even maintaining his training with the sword, despite the fact that he would never match his brother as a sword cultivator.

It had, in fact, made him a better sect leader, less prone to working until he burned out, and he was grateful to his friends for their wisdom and steadfastness in the face of his stubborn grief.

At any rate, though, Wen Ruohan was no longer the painter he had been in his youth, and the hints of burning that marked all such paintings that Lan Qiren had seen suggested that the transition had been an unpleasant one for him. It was a surprise, therefore, to receive, as a gift from the Nightless City, a painting in that immediately recognizable hand which was so freshly made that Lan Qiren imagined he could still smell the grinding ink.

The painting depicted a dragon amidst a misty bamboo forest, its massive coils interwoven throughout the bamboo until it appeared almost part of the earth from which they sprung, or alternatively that speared through from above by a rain of spears; in its claw it held a beauteous dragon pearl, shining bright against the dark haze that surrounded the rest of the painting, and its eyes were fixed upon it as if it had forgotten all else.

The pearl, Lan Qiren presumed, was himself, given Wen Ruohan’s fondness for comparing him to one, which Lan Qiren still did not entirely understand – while he knew it was a sign of Wen Ruohan’s appreciation for him, and an indication that he treasured him, he thought that the particular choice in the type of precious stone was likely to be due to the fact Lan Qiren largely preferred white and grey and silver for his clothing.

(Privately, he had determined that one day, out of sheer spite, he would wear an outfit primarily composed of blue for no other reason than to give the other man a shock; he just hadn’t found a reason yet to justify the expense of having such clothing made when he would only use it the once.)

Similarly, the dragon was the symbol of imperial might, of overweening power and influence and even arrogance; naturally that would be Wen Ruohan himself. But as for the rest of it – the lonely but beautiful bamboo forest, often associated with moral integrity and loyalty, yet juxtaposed in this painting as piercing spears, penetrating the dragon’s hide as if attacking him – the dark mist that seemed to envelop the dragon, held at abeyance only through the light of its pearl –

Lan Qiren did not understand.

There were too many meanings possible, and he did not know how to differentiate between those that were there and those he only wanted to read into it. There was nothing for it, but that he would need to ask the artist himself what was meant.

When, as expected, an invitation came a few days later, requesting that Lan Qiren visit the Nightless City in his capacity as Wen Ruohan’s sworn brother, Lan Qiren accepted.

There were all the necessary pleasantries when he arrived, of course. No longer could he just slip in through the back door, a younger brother come to leech off some resources from an elder; he was the Lan sect leader, and that came with certain obligations even on a casual visit. There were a few formal procedures, and then dinner with Wen Ruohan and his wives, with whom his dynamics had completely reversed – Madame Wen had thawed towards Lan Qiren on account of his new position as sect leader, which guaranteed that he would never be able to move to the Nightless City and thereby obstruct her personal power, while the new concubine, former maid, seemed to think that his involvement in her ascension to the position she now held was a matter of embarrassment, resulting in her wanting to snub him whenever possible.

Wen Ruohan largely ignored their antics, his eyes fixed on Lan Qiren throughout their meal, and afterwards, he had finally dismissed them all and taken Lan Qiren back to the small study he preferred to use for their time together.

“The painting you sent was lovely,” Lan Qiren said, playing a little with the cup of tea that was warm and aromatic in his hands. “You have lost none of your skill.”

“I rebuilt it,” Wen Ruohan corrected, looking amused. “You ought to have seen the first few efforts; I think I wasted enough paper to feed a small family for a year.”

Lan Qiren smiled at the thought. He could scarcely imagine Wen Ruohan struggling the way he described, making an effort and finding his ability wanting; still less could he have once imagined Wen Ruohan having admitted to that fact in front of another.

It was a little like what Lao Nie had said, that between the two of them they were excavating the residual humanity left in Wen Ruohan, slowly and methodically moving aside stone and dirt in order to find the treasures lurking beneath.

“I like it even more, then,” he said, and decided to be a little bit bold. “I like knowing that you thought of me for as long as it took you to make it.”

Wen Ruohan’s eyes curved in delight. “You need not be concerned on that score,” he said, his voice still calm and unhurried as always. “You are not so easily expelled from my thoughts, now that you have entered them…ah, little Lan, little Lan, you make me impatient! I had made plans on how to broach the subject with you, and yet now that you are here, I find myself rushing forward, intent to get to the point like some savage Nie.”

A savage Nie of whom he was exceedingly fond, he did not say, and Lan Qiren managed not to roll his eyes at him.

Instead, Lan Qiren put down his cup and folded his hands in his lap. “Don’t hesitate on my behalf,” he said, then added, a little dryly, “I’ve had enough indirect statements to last a lifetime.”

“Welcome to politics,” Wen Ruohan responded, just as dry, but his smile faded and his expression grew more intense; he stood and came closer to Lan Qiren, looking down at him for a long moment before taking a seat beside him. “Qiren, why are you here?”

Lan Qiren blinked, a little confused by the question, but before he could put together an answer, Wen Ruohan continued. “You are sincere and true to yourself; you follow your sect’s rules because you believe in them whole-heartedly and wish to live up to their strictures. Yet do they not say Do not associate with evil?”

“I don’t think you’re evil,” Lan Qiren said. “I think we disagree on what actions constitute evil, on what divides good from evil, and that you are more comfortable walking closely along that line than I. I think that there will be many times in the future where we disagree once again on what is or is not the straight path, and what is the crooked, but – fundamentally, I don’t think you’re evil.”

He considered the question for another moment longer, then added: “And if you were, what is there to do about it? You’re still my sworn brother, bound by oath and blood, and that makes you my responsibility whether I like it or not. Even if you were evil, the only thing that would be left for me to do would be to try my best to lead you out of the dark and back to the light.”

Wen Ruohan was watching him again. His red eyes were narrowed a little, his gaze as intense as it had been when Lan Qiren had been little more than a child, although experience had made it a little less overwhelming.

“You know that I see you as a pearl in the palm of my hand,” Wen Ruohan finally said. His voice was low and intimate, and Lan Qiren shivered to hear it. “A treasure I never expected to find, a gem of such surpassing purity that I fear it will burn me to dare profane it with my touch. Time is eternal; the pearl flows, the jade turns, and yet I remain, walking my crooked path and you your straight broad bridge, shining with righteousness. I see you and yearn for you both day and night, and even in my dreams…”

He reached out and put his hand on Lan Qiren’s. “I would have you be mine, if you would have the same.”

No hollowed-out puppets soon to be discarded here, Lan Qiren thought nonsensically, and swallowed.

“I am yours,” he said carefully, pronouncing each syllable at a time. He had to get this right, he thought, and he would only ever have this one singular chance to do so, or else he’d lose something as bright and shining as the pearl Wen Ruohan was always comparing him to. “I am your sworn brother, as you are mine; I will always be yours.”

“I know,” Wen Ruohan said, and it seemed for once that Lan Qiren had expressed himself clearly rather than muddling it up: he hadn’t misunderstood him into thinking that what Lan Qiren had said was a rejection. “If I were not one of those evil men that your rules warn you against, I would find it in myself to be content with that. But I am, and I am not.”

Lan Qiren wet his lips with his tongue. “You know what I told you,” he reminded him. “About how I – I could compromise myself if I had to, if it made you happy, but I don’t want to have to. That is not who I am, what I am. I don’t want to have to bend and yield. I don’t want to break under the weight of love the way my brother did.”

Wen Ruohan was watching him, patient and waiting.

“I’m not comfortable with that type of intimacy, the type shared between lovers since the start of time,” Lan Qiren finally said. “I don’t want it intrinsically, and I don’t think I want it logically, either. More than that, I don’t think, having never wanted it before and not wanting it now, that I will ever want it. My brother once compared me to a block of ice or a mountain lake frozen over in winter, frigid, and there was something true to what he said. There is no heat that will make me melt as others do…and yet.”

“And yet?”

“And yet you are not the only one who wishes to possess.” He met Wen Ruohan’s eyes. “I, too, would have you be mine.”

His stupid Lan sect heart, burning a hole in his chest; it should have been enough to make him forget his own wishes and be willing to give in, to want to give everything to his beloved no matter the cost to himself, but it wasn’t – he wasn’t. And yet, at the same time, he judged his own affections to be no less than his brother’s for all that they were quieter and less flamboyant, understated rather than loudly proclaimed

Wen Ruohan leaned forward, bringing their faces closer together. “Then why don’t you claim me?”

“Because I cannot offer you what I should,” Lan Qiren said truthfully. “What you would expect –”

“And when,” Wen Ruohan cut him off, “have I ever cared for the expectations set out by the rest of the world? Would I have done half the things I did if I cared for the world’s conventions and determined my aims through their lens?”

Lan Qiren had to admit that he had a point.

“I know what you are,” Wen Ruohan said. “To taint you would be to ruin my own pleasure, to force you would be to deny myself – and I never deny myself. I am greedy, little Lan; I am not content with what the world would have me want, not when I can have what I really want.”

“And what is it that you want?”

“Lao Nie told me that he told you about his wife,” Wen Ruohan said. “How he stayed and she went, and they were still happy…I want that, with you.”

Lan Qiren frowned, not understanding.

“I want you,” Wen Ruohan told him, and his long-fingered hand traced over Lan Qiren’s cheekbone. “I want to have you, to own you, to keep you. I want to possess you down to the marrow of your bones; I want every inch of you in every way that I can have you. I want you to be mine – and I don’t need to fuck you to have it.”

Lan Qiren stared at him.

Wen Ruohan smile was like his smirk, triumphant and arrogant, certain of his impending victory. “If I want sex, I have my wives or Lao Nie for that, don’t I? To my wives I have only promised power, which I have given them. As for Lao Nie, I know now that he cannot promise me his heart: he is too facile, too free, too easy with others – he is compelled to share not only his body, which I wouldn’t mind, but also his heart, and I find that I am as unwilling to share in matters of the heart as you are to share your body.”

He shifted closer yet again, until their eyes were level with each other and their breath intermingled in the air between them.

“You will not be like him,” he said, voice dark and certain. “You’re barely willing to divide your attention to things you consider less important than your particular interests. Your heart is your clan’s curse and its treasure, taking you to the heavens and casting you down to the hells – if you give me your heart, full and entire, it will be as if you have removed it from your chest and put it in my hand. No one else will have any part of it, not like this, not in this way. It will only be me.”

“That is true,” Lan Qiren said. “I love no less deeply than my brother. My heart is a placid lake with a surface as clear as glass – you can see everything therein. Within it, there are only my interests, my nephew, my few friends, and you.”

Wen Ruohan’s smile widened.

“What exactly are you thinking?” Lan Qiren asked. His heart was beating in his chest so fast that it hurt. “If you want the assurance, you have it already: I am yours, and you are mine, and it would shatter me to let you go now. Is that what you want?”

“It is.” Wen Ruohan laughed, and it was full of pleasure. “Ah, little Lan! It is, it is.”

“What does it change?” Lan Qiren asked. “How is it different from what we have already?”

“It changes everything,” Wen Ruohan said simply, and Lan Qiren thought about and felt that he was right. “Knowing that you are mine makes it easier to release you into the world, to watch you shine and others see it; let them all look and know that it will never be theirs. All good things in the world are mine, and you are the best among them.”

“Pretty words,” Lan Qiren said, aiming for dry but probably just coming off as short of breath. “I’m a little more interested in the practical.”

“I would have you share my pillow while you are here,” Wen Ruohan said. “I do not need you to share your body with me, but I would have your company as a husband has his wife’s…and there are things that can be done without involving your body, depending on your tolerance.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Wen Ruohan grinned. “As it happens, that’s a matter I’ve given some considerable thought to…”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes, and felt the heat in his ears fade a little; he appreciated the small reprieve from the emotional intensity, the humor breaking the tenseness of the moment.

“You know I find you beautiful,” Wen Ruohan said, and this time his hand came to rest on Lan Qiren’s cheek, his thumb brushing over his lips, and as quickly as that the reprieve was gone. “Perhaps you would permit me to find my own pleasure beside you, gazing upon you, or even invite another to share the bed while you busy yourself with your work – you are never as beautiful as when you are focused, your soul and mind wholly absorbed in your passion for the subject. Perhaps I would invite you to read a spring book for me, spilling out dirty words in that cool tone of yours that you use regardless of the circumstance, so that I might torment myself with hearing you at any time and think of that…I have a thousand and one ideas, little Lan, and I would try them all to see which ones you like and which ones you don’t, to yield to your preference and glory in so yielding.”

None of that sounded like something Lan Qiren would dislike, he thought to himself; it really was only his own personal involvement in the act that he truly objected to. And if Wen Ruohan had Lan Qiren’s heart and Lao Nie’s body, and both their friendship besides, perhaps even he in his ceaseless ambition could find a way to be satisfied with what he had for a time.

“I would like that,” he said honestly.

“Then having gained a cun, I will take a chi,” Wen Ruohan said. “I would like to kiss you.”

Lan Qiren swallowed.

“…all right,” he said. “You may.”

And he did.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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edenmemes · 3 years

Text

the witcher 3: wild hunt starters

including quotes from the dlcs hearts of stone & blood and wine

❝ you were always an unruly child. i adored that about you. ❞ ❝ mmm. yes. of course. the excuse you resort to when you’d rather not talk about something. ❞ ❝ how many have you killed? how many more might you still? ❞ ❝ you know who i am. and why i’m here. ❞ ❝ you're a madman and always have been. a cruel, cold-blooded killer. ❞ ❝ a man should frame his wishes carefully. it forestalls disappointment. ❞ ❝ no argument. you knew what you were signing up for. ❞ ❝ maybe once, in a different time...i’d have helped. ❞ ❝ don’t train alone, it only embeds your errors. ❞ ❝ wanna get drunk off my ass. and it’s gotta be on cheap wine. ❞ ❝ you’re a heartless bastard. ❞ ❝ try to trick me anyway, anyhow, you won’t go anywhere, you know that. ‘cause i’ll take your head off right where it meets your neck. ❞ ❝ sorry. i don’t want to talk about it. not now, at least. ❞ ❝ we are more like a family. we support each other and help each other survive tough moments. ❞ ❝ so how’s it feel to be the village witch? ❞ ❝ realize, please, that you were made for great things. ❞ ❝ folks say a curse has fallen on that place, a dark power brought down by the bestiality of the murders it beheld. ❞ ❝ so, now you’ve threatened me and all...are you in or are you not? ❞ ❝ i know it must sound foolish, but in the dream - well, it was all too real... ❞ ❝ we may not survive this. in fact, our chances are slim. ❞ ❝ it’s always been about you. only you. ❞ ❝ i remember finding your sense of humor both groan-worthy...and somehow endearing. ❞ ❝ kings die, realms fall, but magic endures. ❞ ❝ i detest banquets. vacuous conversation, food portions fit for a mouse, drinks that taste like piss... ❞ ❝ despite what you’ve heard, i don’t lunge at every monster i see, sword in hand. ❞ ❝ each day’s more dangerous than the last. ❞ ❝ it’s folks like you that restore my faith in humankind. ❞ ❝ my power lies in possessing knowledge, not sharing it. ❞ ❝ the rotten smell brings back childhood memories. ❞ ❝ awfully noble of you, showing so much concern for the needy. ❞ ❝ no need to thank me. always glad to save your ass. you’re welcome. ❞ ❝ i may be inhumanely beautiful, but i don’t have super human senses. ❞ ❝ anyone can be made to talk, even a corpse. one must simply know how. ❞ ❝ we’ve done the hardest part. only got the pleasant bits now. ❞ ❝ there are few causes worth saving. even fewer men. ❞ ❝ don’t treat me like a child. ❞ ❝ there’s strange men lurking outside the house. watching me. ❞ ❝ you must be careful what you wish for lest your wish be granted. for there are consequences. ❞ ❝ shall i be free of the suffering? the sadness? ❞ ❝ i wish to gaze into those eyes, eyes the devil would be proud to have. ❞ ❝ you were born with a great gift. and only you can decide how to use it. ❞ ❝ any other words of wisdom? or can we go? ❞ ❝ what i need is an ally. and something tells me i shall find none better than you. ❞ ❝ i can see no row can occur here without your participation. ❞ ❝ i and what concerns me have not been a concern of yours for some time now. ❞ ❝ if you’d not arrived in time, things might have ended considerably worse. ❞ ❝ if they can bleed, they can die. ❞ ❝ a man must display some madness from time to time --- it helps him feel alive. ❞ ❝ i was deeply troubled. you’ve no idea. ❞ ❝ done that so many times, but...it felt like our first kiss to me. ❞ ❝ don’t need to play tough on me. ❞ ❝ i've lost too many mates already. i won’t risk it, i can't. ❞ ❝ there’s just not enough of us. it’ll be a hard fight. ❞ ❝ in lonely woods, screams carry long. ❞ ❝ things used to be simpler. monsters were bad, humans good. now, everything’s all confused. ❞ ❝ as for your missteps --- i don't rightly see why i shouldn't laugh if they're amusing.. ❞ ❝ i’ve no gold to offer you in reward...but i shall be ever so grateful. ❞ ❝ if you’re scared, turn back. i’m gonna go on. ❞ ❝ if anything happens, i’ll defend you. ❞ ❝ once you say "i love you," a kiss has to taste differently. ❞ ❝ maybe we should sit? you look a bit dazed... ❞ ❝ drink it off, sleep it off, whatever it takes...just get yourself together and think things through. ❞ ❝ i shall join later, if it’s no trouble. i don’t yet feel strong enough to venture out. ❞ ❝ awake at last. you writhed like a squirrel caught in a snare. ❞ ❝ again you plan without even asking what i think! ❞ ❝ come to see how i’m feelin'? thanks, not bad. ❞ ❝ i remember that day quite well...there was a light drizzle, yet the cold tore right through you. ❞ ❝ you gotta keep your eyes peeled wide open. someone’s taken an interest in your work. ❞ ❝ oof...for a minute, i actually thought we were doomed. ❞ ❝ you shouldn’t worry yourself --- it tarnishes your beauty. ❞ ❝ i’d even embrace you...were you not covered in blood. ❞ ❝ guess i could’ve been someone worse...just a shame i had no choice. ❞ ❝ facts interest me. not fairytales. ❞ ❝ hm, odd smell. blend of alcohol, blood and monster stench. ❞ ❝ i’m old and i am wealthy. i may say what i please. ❞ ❝ now, be so kind and leave me to my thoughts. ❞ ❝ in your shoes i’d pack it up and go hide somewhere far away. ❞ ❝ forgive me, but that's the blatherin' of someone who clearly can't snap out of it after a tragic loss. ❞ ❝ that all you gotta say? i saved your life. ❞ ❝ i swear on all that is holy: we shall be together forever. ❞ ❝ think of me as part of the decor. ❞ ❝ anyone who’s bold enough to fight is already a hero. ❞ ❝ if this is a trap of some sort... ❞ ❝ you can count on me, you know? always. ❞ ❝ you don’t know how much it means...to have someone you can rely on in this fucking city. ❞ ❝ i know you. you have no heart. ❞ ❝ no room for friendship in this business. ❞ ❝ evil is evil. lesser, greater, middling, makes no difference. the degree is arbitrary, the definitions blurred. ❞ ❝ hands off, or i'll cut them off. ❞ ❝ i’ll need to clear my head first. after those deranged dreams, i feel it’s full of cobwebs. ❞ ❝ on your way? or will you stay longer? it’s far safer with you around... ❞ ❝ really sad story, but something’s not right. got a feeling you’re not telling me everything. ❞ ❝ gotta admit, there’s something about you. you’re...different. ❞ ❝ with each arrow i shoot, i think of my dad. he’d be proud, i think. ❞ ❝ i merely know when to indulge my pride, and when to swallow it. ❞ ❝ you were born to greatness. ❞ ❝ these’re dark, grim times. no room for knights pure of heart or happily-ever-afters. ❞ ❝ a life without liquor’s like loving without licking. ❞ ❝ my certainty i walk the right path grows strong as iron, firm as steel. ❞ ❝ few make me feel awkward, but in your presence, i feel anxiety, discomfort. ❞ ❝ some men have got good reason to fear their own shadows. ❞ ❝ some men cannot admit defeat. some keep fighting from beyond the grave. ❞ ❝ stare into their eyes, feast on their terror. then go in for the kill. ❞ ❝ forget not that you are a person right and honorable, devoted to doing good. ❞ ❝ ash shall fertilize the soil. by spring, the valley shall bloom once more. ❞ ❝ there’s lots of wraiths here. i hear them whispering every night. ❞ ❝ no one has the courage to face this threat! yet we must kill them, or sooner or later we will all die. ❞ ❝ you are a step away from losing your head. speak the truth and you might yet keep it. ❞ ❝ you carry within you the weight of a terrible tragedy. you are a good person, but lost. which is why you come across as grim. ❞ ❝ if i understand you correctly, you would rather help a monster than kill it? ❞ ❝ discouraged after a mere eight attempts? ❞ ❝ easier to pat someone on the back and hope things will work out than it is to face the truth. ❞ ❝ know that they can’t teach an old dog new tricks? ❞ ❝ my, you’ve grown beautiful. ❞ ❝ my swords a promise --- if i reach for it, heads will roll. ❞ ❝ one condition: no one dies. that clear? ❞ ❝ patience happens to be my weakness. so dispense with the dramatic pauses and talk. ❞ ❝ you proved today you can take care of yourself. ❞ ❝ you under the delusion you’ll complete your tasks, live happily ever after? ❞ ❝ i will not sit and twiddle my thumbs. i'm sick of waiting, sick of hiding! ❞ ❝ glad you know who i am. haven’t introduced yourself, though. ❞ ❝ i’ve seen a great deal --- cruelty, cynicism, greed. ❞ ❝ you tempt fate, because at heart you are unhappy. ❞ ❝ we had our chance, but...let it go. ❞ ❝ come now, you didn’t expect it to be that easy, did you? ❞ ❝ promise me one thing --- you’ll stop risking your life for others. ❞ ❝ instead of dwelling on the future, i’d rather live in the moment. ❞ ❝ i adore love stories. especially the ones that end happily ever after. ❞ ❝ we are drops of rain that together make a ferocious storm. ❞ ❝ the path to freedom is paved in blood, not ink. ❞ ❝ we’ll get our happy ending. one day. ❞ ❝ i’ll never forget what you did for me...and what we had together. ❞ ❝ don’t meddle in other people’s lives. ❞ ❝ i don’t get attached to places. just people. ❞ ❝ it’s dangerous, there are risks involved. understand that, don’t you? ❞ ❝ and here i hoped someone would finally take pity on me. ❞ ❝ seen a lot of dead in my time, but that must’ve been hard. ❞ ❝ air is strange...like dropping into a deep cellar on a hot day... ❞ ❝ wouldn’t carry a sword if i didn’t know how to use it. ❞ ❝ take it you didn't summon me to reminisce about the good old days, so... ❞ ❝ i was attacked --- had to defend myself. ❞ ❝ guards have never stopped me, you know that. ❞ ❝ treating the ill and wounded...it’s my calling. ❞ ❝ you think it’s enchanted? ❞ ❝ there are times when a woman should simply not explain her decision. ❞ ❝ won’t find too many comforts, but try to feel at home. ❞ ❝ i was looking for you...sometimes i thought you were just a step away. other times, i felt like i was going around in circles. ❞ ❝ i’ll remember you. always with a smile. ❞ ❝ i’d rather you not make anymore trouble --- for yourself, or us both. ❞ ❝ got the stench of corpes on you. ❞ ❝ you stood to gain --- that is why you saved me. ❞ ❝ sages invariably have hidden agendas. altruism is simply not part of their constitution. ❞ ❝ the gods have abandoned us. the mighty of this earth care not for our fate. ❞ ❝ is that admiration i hear in your voice? ❞ ❝ i started off heading in the opposite direction, but then turned around. ❞ ❝ i’m fed up. i won’t have others deciding for me behind my back. ❞ ❝ where’d you get this idea? what’s gotten into you? ❞ ❝ i don't expect you to commit now. think it over, what you've heard, what you feel. ❞ ❝ head torn clear off...takes incredible strength. ❞ ❝ desperate fathers have been known to do a lot to find their daughters. ❞ ❝ you cannot kill me. you know this... ❞ ❝ "i give you my heart”? what kind of spell is that? ❞ ❝ i’d go anywhere with you. ❞ ❝ why? because i am a woman? in a frock, rather than plate? i can take care of myself, i assure you. ❞ ❝ everything we discussed here, hope you’ll keep it to yourself. counting on it, in fact. ❞ ❝ trusted you once. won’t make that mistake again. ❞ ❝ shut up. i’ve heard enough of your bullshit. draw your weapon, let’s get this over with. ❞ ❝ exaggerating for effect, right? ❞ ❝ well, well...when cornered, you can bite. ❞ ❝ you cannot win...even if you kill me. ❞ ❝ you know i’m good at accomplishing the impossible. ❞ ❝ it’s nothing, really. you’d have done the same for me. ❞ ❝ you are not ready. you do not control your powers. ❞ ❝ you’re a tool in their hands, even if you don’t see it. ❞ ❝ i’d do anything for you, i would. you know that well. ❞ ❝ this is a land where the fantastic is normal, and the impossible occurs daily... ❞ ❝ know when a legend becomes a prophecy? when it gain believers. ❞ ❝ i thought you’d become a stranger to me. that i’d look at you and not feel a thing. but it’s not like that at all. nothing’s changed. ❞ ❝ to be honest, i just wanted to go on a walk with you. ❞ ❝ what i really want is to be with you, to...to be together and... ❞ ❝ this is not the kind of offer one refuses. ❞ ❝ despair devours you like maggots devour a corpse. ❞ ❝ before long every soul will kneel before you. ❞ ❝ i run into dilemmas all the time. situations where it's hard to judge, hard to know what's right, make a decision. this is not one of them. you disgust me. and deserve to die. ❞ ❝ you know me. i’m rare to praise, but when i do, it’s sincere. ❞ ❝ i'm not a thug for hire. ❞ ❝ i like being on adventures, sleeping under the stars, waking up with dew on my face. ❞ ❝ the dream's within reach now. i’m not about to let it go. ❞ ❝ unlike you, killing gives me no pleasure. ❞ ❝ can't speak for the world you inhabit, but in mine, nothing is ever black and white. ❞ ❝ you cannot possibly imagine how much i detest this place. ❞ ❝ stones you’ve got. but i didn’t think you’d have the stomach for a massacre. ❞ ❝ the dead man --- looked like a monster attacked him recently. ❞ ❝ finish all your business before you die. bid loved ones farewell. write your will. apologize to those you’ve wronged. otherwise, you’ll never truly leave this world. ❞ ❝ i've had nothing but nightmares lately. pretty horrible. ❞ ❝ i was wandering through the forest, breathing deep the air, and then i heard a strange sound, unsettling. ❞ ❝ had a few nice dreams. for example, in one we sat around a fire, drinking good wine, and all around people danced and laughed. ❞ ❝ they’re all dead! mountains of corpses. yet here i stand alone. all alone. ❞ ❝ this isn’t a game. men have died. ❞ ❝ if you wanna listen, listen, if not --- i'd rather you spared me your wit and throw me out now. ❞ ❝ you fed me, cared for me, had my wounds looked after. we're even now. ❞ ❝ you’ll return, you shall. our fates are bound. ❞ ❝ i’ve nothing left. not a fucking thing. ❞ ❝ i don’t question your abilities. i simply don’t trust you. ❞ ❝ what foolish things men sometimes do. ❞ ❝ dare harm me, and against you will rise all the powers of nature. ❞ ❝ did you destroy the evil powers? have you brought peace to my domain? ❞ ❝ well, perhaps i shall tell you about it one day. one day, but not today.. ❞ ❝ times like these, you never know what tomorrow will bring. ❞ ❝ you worry too much. what will be, will be. ❞ ❝ have you gone completely mad? we must leave here at once! ❞ ❝ time eats away at memories, distorts them. sometimes we only remember the good... sometimes only the bad. ❞ ❝ you don’t need magic to strip men of their humanity. i’ve seen plenty of examples. ❞ ❝ if i’m to choose between one evil and another, i’d rather not choose at all. ❞ ❝ see what i’ve got on my back? wolves fear it. kings do, too. ❞ ❝ i missed those awkward compliments of yours. ❞ ❝ sometimes i think it’s all too lovely to be true…that something’s bound to happen, another war or some other horror. ❞ ❝ took you a while. did you run into trouble? ❞ ❝ i just travel a lot. and i don't always happen upon such good and civil company. ❞ ❝ what can you know about saving the world, silly? ❞ ❝ done my share of fighting. wouldn't carry a sword if i didn't know to use it. ❞ ❝ all right, perhaps i wasn’t completely honest. ❞ ❝ ever thought this day would come? me and you...peace and quiet...bees buzzing, birds chirping. ❞ ❝ i detect a shadow of impatience in your face. ❞ ❝ took me a long time to find you. wasn't an easy road to travel. ❞ ❝ wipe that frown off your face, or i might think you don’t like me anymore. ❞ ❝ always believed attack was the best defense. ❞ ❝ once it’s all over, if we survive ... i wish to leave, go far away. and i’d like you to come with me. ❞ ❝ naturally, you suspect me of the worst. i don’t deserve that. ❞ ❝ we can fight another time, in another place, where the walls have no ears. ❞ ❝ once i was free...i shall be free once more. ❞ ❝ believe me...a tavern, mulled wine, our boots drying by the fire --- i’d like nothing better. ❞ ❝ prove it. kiss me. ❞ ❝ the prophecies do not lie...you cannot survive this struggle. ❞ ❝ i know you better than you think. ❞ ❝ you know me. nothing i like more than breaking rules. ❞ ❝ what’s happened? it’s so quiet, all of a sudden. ❞ ❝ thank you, for coming with me. ❞ ❝ i cannot do everything for you. use your head. ❞ ❝ i'm angry and tired. had to kill a lot of people along the way. ❞ ❝ we’ve come a long way, and i’d be damned if we’ve come to fail. ❞ ❝ i sense your pain. i see your fear. ❞ ❝ how’s this for an answer: kiss my ass. ❞ ❝ how many have you already killed? how many more might you still? ❞ ❝ i'm quite alive and extraordinarily well. better than i've ever been in this rotten life of mine. ❞ ❝ i like it when you smile. come here. everything will be all right. ❞ ❝ ugh. don’t fall in love with me. ❞ ❝ i don’t like you. in fact, i feel like slapping you. ❞ ❝ i'm too old to play the blushing bride...unless you ask nicely. ❞ ❝ that bit of my life --- forgotten it already. ❞ ❝ the world doesn’t need a hero. it needs a professional. ❞ ❝ next time you wonder why i’m so bitter...well, there's your answer. ❞ ❝ nothing wrong with having a drink in good company. ❞ ❝ i want you behind those rocks. and keep your mouth shut. ❞ ❝ nice of you to worry...but i've made my decision, and i won't change it. ❞ ❝ this is my story, not yours. you must let me finish telling it. ❞ ❝ after all that toil, i believe we deserve a bit of a rest. ❞ ❝ i was afraid you were dead. ❞ ❝ we’ve all some stain on our conscience. ❞ ❝ leaving the castle walls means certain death. ❞ ❝ right good jest. had us a laugh. now fuck off. ❞ ❝ i’ve heard about you. you bring trouble, or thus far have, always. ❞ ❝ ah, you’ve struck a raw nerve. memories of a time long past to which i’d rather not return now. ❞ ❝ we meet again. and it seems you need my help. again. ❞ ❝ got a relative i can talk to? someone - how do i say this - a smidgen less irritating? ❞ ❝ miss the target, you owe me fifty push-ups. hit it, you owe me twenty. ❞ ❝ oh. serious talk coming. ❞ ❝ i feel like one more lie'd be the last bitter drop in a chalice full of sorrow. ❞ ❝ romantic? thought we came here as friends. ❞ ❝ you’re hiding something. and that’s one thing i can’t stand. ❞ ❝ tell me, how do you do it? always manage to pull yourself together, focus, no matter what’s happening? ❞ ❝ i go wherever i please, whenever i please. ❞ ❝ uh oh. i know that look. ❞ ❝ sounds tempting. so tempting i don’t think i can refuse. ❞ ❝ so, what do you say to a moonlight ride on horseback...and dinner? ❞ ❝ perhaps...perhaps you’d stay just a bit longer? ❞ ❝ how are you feeling? sleep well? ❞ ❝ such a gloomy subject to broach... simply shouldn’t have. ❞

❝ such a gloomy subject to broach...i simply shouldn’t have --- not during our romantic dinner. ❞ ❝ got it. a bit of blackmail --- just your style. ❞ ❝ it’s the crack of dawn. where do you wanna go? ❞ ❝ shut up before you wake someone. last thing we need is a crowd. ❞ ❝ watch what you say. the trees have ears. ❞ ❝ no bow at hand, no spear. my sword was all i had. ❞ ❝ never expected you’d take such an interest in my private life. ❞ ❝ i’m special. always was the rare beauty. ❞ ❝ damn. been ages since we last saw each other. ❞ ❝ some charming orchards nearby. in bloom, even, so you almost can't smell the corpses. ❞ ❝ you know me. nothing i like more than breaking rules. ❞ ❝ man spends his whole life learning. ❞ ❝ if only i was as skilled with my words as i am with my blade. ❞ ❝ i wished to know what was going on in that head of yours. i thought perhaps i could help. ❞ ❝ i can tell something’s bothering you. ❞ ❝ dangerous times. each thinks five times before sticking their neck out. and i can’t blame them. ❞ ❝ now i care not in the slightest how you think or feel. ❞ ❝ i no longer know if i still hate you. ❞ ❝ i see how you look at me, and i see you wither. ❞ ❝ one last bit of advice --- find a new tavern. everyone here knows you. ❞ ❝ you won. no point bothering with ‘what ifs’. ❞ ❝ it’s time i took fate into my own hands. lived life anew...and truly, this time. ❞ ❝ ahh, 'cause you thought you'd killed me that time. surprise, sur-fucking-prise. ❞ ❝ who...who’s that? gods, i’m hallucinating. ❞ ❝ it’s no exaggeration to say i’ve never met a warrior like you in my life. you’re lithe as an eel and strong as a bear. ❞ ❝ i’ve a heart again, yet all it feels is grief, sadness and defeat. my life is a ruin. ❞ ❝ sought only to protect myself. in doing so, i put you in harm’s way. forgive me. ❞ ❝ there’s a charming grove nearby where kisses taste sweeter than anywhere else in the world. ❞ ❝ you’ve handled tougher situations. you’ll figure this one out. ❞ ❝ who you are and why you’ve come matter little. for you’ll not leave this place alive. ❞ ❝ i’m not panicking. just trying to be realistic. ❞ ❝ hahahahaha...i can’t believe you fell for that! ❞ ❝ i was actually going to recite an anthem praising your glory, but if you’re not in the mood... ❞ ❝ lying didn’t always come so easily to you. ❞ ❝ everyone wants to rule. i can do that better than any monarch. ❞ ❝ tell me what you want already, and make it quick. ❞ ❝ what a mess we made of it all...if i’d only known then how it would end... ❞ ❝ seems a faded dream now, but there were a time where i was happy. ❞ ❝ why’d you leave me? you claimed you loved me. ❞ ❝ never liked boats. not one bit. ❞ ❝ you must be mad. i’ve no intention to make things easier for you. ❞ ❝ i don’t wish to look at your face any longer than i must. ❞ ❝ please, no. i can’t stand spells. ❞ ❝ we agreed not to keep any secrets from one another. we promised. ❞ ❝ that i like! a man who boldly dares, damn the risks! ❞ ❝ i thought you bowed before no man. ❞ ❝ smile a bit wider. ...you were meant to smile, not bare your teeth. ❞ ❝ is that blood? have you hurt yourself? ❞ ❝ no reason to trouble the guards. i’ll go willingly. ❞ ❝ look at me. promise you’ll stay out of it. ❞ ❝ the minute we’re in trouble, you make me responsible for getting us out. ❞ ❝ they say they don’t fear the wrath of the gods. and you, do you fear it? ❞ ❝ i’ll let that pass. i know grief eats at your heart. ❞ ❝ we all lie sometimes. but lying to yourself is running away, whereas there’s really nowhere to run. ❞ ❝ don’t need your sympathy, just your help. ❞ ❝ your loss -- it must hurt, bad. but there wasn't anything we could do. ❞ ❝ i wish to leave, go far away. and i’d like you to come with me. ❞ ❝ i trust you have an explanation for this. a very good one. ❞ ❝ lot of bitterness in you. ❞ ❝ i assure you, you’re excellent at covering your tracks --- though not terribly subtle. but i’m even better at uncovering them. ❞ ❝ glad to see you happy...but i don’t think what we did was right. ❞ ❝ i look at you, and...and feel like i am exactly where i am supposed to be. at long last. ❞ ❝ i’m no coward. i'll not run this time. ❞ ❝ yes, i know you’ve trained with swords. but you’re still shit with them. ❞ ❝ how many innocents have you cut down? ❞ ❝ problem is, you’re not ordinary. you were born to greatness. ❞ ❝ not too late to surrender. ❞ ❝ men turn honest when they feel a blade at their throat. ❞ ❝ i'm not gonna drink. why dull my senses when i’m in such pleasant company? ❞ ❝ it’s bound to come in handy, and each time it does, you’ll think of me. ❞ ❝ lie still or you will bleed to death. ❞ ❝ your life is yours, exclusively. you choose who you are. ❞ ❝ for a minute there, was almost sure you’d leave me to die. ❞ ❝ there is never a second opportunity to make a first impression. ❞ ❝ it’s all because of that secretiveness of yours. ❞ ❝ plead the gods spare us, for without their favor we shall most certainly perish. ❞ ❝ i must say -- seen a lot, but nothing like this, never. ❞ ❝ you don’t look like you can get home on your own. i’ll walk you. ❞ ❝ all’s in the past, never to be restored. ❞ ❝ you know full well i never hold a grudge. i forgive you. ❞ ❝ the good gods sent you to me. ❞ ❝ and the guilt, the responsibility of all this, lies with me. ❞ ❝ you’ve only been here five minutes, and you’ve already managed to offend me twice. ❞ ❝ you will certainly fetch me a higher bounty alive. ❞ ❝ what's wrong with my beard? always thought it added to my dignity. ❞ ❝ if i’m to die today, i wish to look smashing for the occasion. ❞ ❝ i was stupid. stupidity costs a lot. ❞ ❝ even your humblest requests seem like threats. ❞ ❝ your motives do not interest me. only results. ❞ ❝ and you laughed, oh, how sweetly, how brightly you laughed! ❞ ❝ you don’t know how it is. to see someone you love die. because of you, for you. ❞ ❝ to have a scapegoat --- that’s the key. ❞ ❝ no need to fear me. ❞ ❝ sorry, but -- your life story? just not interested. ❞ ❝ with you...it was love at first sight. ❞ ❝ gotta understand. you don’t betray people like me. ❞ ❝ i struggled long to find a place where i’d feel safe, needed. until i finally arrived here. ❞ ❝ just don’t faint on me. ❞ ❝ could never be there for you everyday. but i’m happy to see you always. and today, i’m all yours. ❞ ❝ what others think...your image...that’s all you care about. ❞ ❝ in these foul times one must be wary, even of their friends. ❞ ❝ come on, don’t get angry - it’s not good for you.. ❞ ❝ so, apart from the sword play, you know potions and all that? ❞ ❝ i actually envy your sense of wonder --- common in children, and morons. ❞ ❝ a lot of misfortune for a small village. ❞ ❝ who are you? do you seek to hurt me as well? ❞ ❝ the hand that feeds can also strike its wayward wards. ❞ ❝ shh. eat now. we’ll speak once you’ve rested. ❞ ❝ brother has turned against brother, the land is soaked in blood. evil reigns stronger than ever before. ❞ ❝ good looking and clever. where’ve you been hiding? ❞ ❝ doesn’t bother you, having monsters for neighbours? ❞ ❝ stay here --- no matter what happens. ❞ ❝ i never told you this, but i’ve always felt it: i love you. ❞ ❝ listen to me this once -- don't take matters into your own hands. ❞ ❝ love these moments. the air before a battle -- nothing smells as sweet. ❞ ❝ they tried to get in through the main gate. i’m afraid they could succeed next time. ❞ ❝ too many claim you’re evil. ❞ ❝ why are you so eager to help strangers? sit your ass down or there’ll be misfortune. ❞ ❝ you'd never have managed without me, would you? come, now, admit it. ❞ ❝ for those who remain, death should never take precedence over life. ❞ ❝ thanks for coming. thanks for risking your life for me. ❞ ❝ don’t force me to speak of it. no more, please. ❞ ❝ when doubt plagues your mind, follow your instincts. should they steer you wrong and land you in muck, you'll land at peace with yourself. and that's most important. ❞ ❝ just know that i know you're here. one misstep, one error...you'll make a mistake, it's inevitable...i'll be the first to learn it. ❞ ❝ i do not know you. i’ve done you no harm. ❞ ❝ try not to panic...just doesn’t suit you. ❞ ❝ we’ve come a long way, and i’ll be damned if we’ve come to fail. ❞ ❝ had i known what would happen here, i'd never have come. ❞ ❝ i can say i’ve seen it all now. ❞ ❝ these scars have long yearned for your tender caress. ❞ ❝ i don’t fall victim to curses. i cast them. ❞ ❝ come outside. we can hold hands and stare at the sky. ❞ ❝ we’ll work well together --- i can see that already. ❞ ❝ from the first moment i set eyes upon you that fateful evening, my heart has only beaten for you. ❞ ❝ i trust you as much as you trust me --- not at all. ❞ ❝ you’ve gone all red in the face just for talking about it. ❞ ❝ wake up. it’s just a dream. wake up! ❞ ❝ i still don’t believe everything that happened. ❞ ❝ i never miss twice. ❞ ❝ bit too old to believe in bedtime stories, aren’t you? ❞ ❝ you humans have...unusual tastes. ❞ ❝ didn’t think it worthwhile to tell me, warn me of your plans? ❞ ❝ i think you will not attack one unarmed. ❞ ❝ the deeper i get into this, the more i gotta wonder...why’re you even helping me? ❞ ❝ to live in peace, we first must kill. ❞ ❝ at times fate muddles our path, and life turns toilsome, hard to bear. ❞ ❝ i fight for whoever’s paying the best. or whoever’s easier to rob. ❞ ❝ do not let my beauty distract your aim. ❞ ❝ i’ve seen what is to come, i know destruction approaches. ❞ ❝ the war awoke an ancient power. an evil one that feeds on bloodshed. ❞ ❝ guess you’re no stranger to fury, either. ❞ ❝ think i’m gonna fall for that? no chance, you’re wrong. ❞ ❝ gotta admit --- you do pretty well with a sword. ❞ ❝ you dare tell me to calm down?! you?! ❞ ❝ let's say i go about my business, and when there's coin to be earned, i don't readily turn it down. ❞ ❝ i wish to know the truth...be it sweet, be it painful, i wish to know. ❞ ❝ men, the polite ones at least, would call me a monster. ❞ ❝ even i grow ill at the sight of you. ❞ ❝ i’m going on a walk. or is that not allowed either? because i could break my leg? ❞ ❝ plan’s crazier than it is sane...but there’s an irrestistible charm to it. ❞ ❝ unbelievable! you said something romantic! you! ❞ ❝ we may not survive this. in fact, our chances are slim. ❞ ❝ if anything should happen to you... ❞ ❝ there’s not been a dark cloud yet that didn’t have a silver lining. ❞ ❝ those are some fresh lookin’ scars you’ve got there. ❞ ❝ no. no more about the battle. just hold me. and say something nice. ❞ ❝ stay. this is the only home we’ve ever had. ❞ ❝ you’re so charming when you try to be funny. ❞ ❝ not proud of it...yet i considered all the options and found none better. ❞ ❝ i look far different from when you last saw me. ❞ ❝ i admire your optimism. wish i shared it. ❞ ❝ and...try not to draw any attention to yourself. ❞ ❝ nightmares haunt our nights and days. folk sleepwalk from their homes, never to return. ❞ ❝ forgive me. it couldn’t be avoided. i truly am sorry. ❞ ❝ well i’ve departed, escaped, been forced to flee so many times…yet i always returned. you ought to be used to it by now. ❞ ❝ the human mind is as wild and unexplored a place as any land far beyond the sea. ❞ ❝ you think you’ve won. you are wrong. i can’t die. ❞ ❝ you’re something more. something more. ❞ ❝ barely nicked me, i’ll be fine. ❞ ❝ it’s just that i felt...stifled, in your shadow. i’d have suffocated had i stayed. ❞ ❝ come, don’t just stand there. i want a hug. ❞ ❝ it’s lovely here! i could stay forever. ❞ ❝ do what you will, but leave me out of this. ❞ ❝ we should end this discussion -- before i say something i'll regret. ❞ ❝ you all right? you’re as pale as death. ❞ ❝ let’s get back to the hut. i’ll protect you along the way. ❞ ❝ not to keen on talking about it, are you? ❞ ❝ it’s better to die than to live in the knowledge that you’ve done something that needs forgiveness. ❞ ❝ i was afraid you were dead. ❞ ❝ at times one must use reason, rather than blades. ❞ ❝ need some peace. gotta prepare. ❞ ❝ i suspected it might not be the best idea, but i was desperate, had no choice. ❞ ❝ so tell me how it happened. step by step. ❞ ❝ it was a bit of a lark, a jest. i meant to bring it all back, i swear. ❞ ❝ if i wanted to kill you, you'd be long dead by now. ❞ ❝ that is precisely one of the reasons why i abhor your world. your senseless brutality. ❞ ❝ i won’t let them take you, you know that? ❞ ❝ magic...childish hocus-pocus. it’s just not interesting. what i find fascinating are true tales of true human lives. ❞ ❝ save your praise for others. i couldn’t give a shit. ❞ ❝ well, well, i am impressed. doubted you still had it in you, frankly. ❞ ❝ i like you. don’t make me hurt you. ❞ ❝ you know very little can hurt you being immortal, so you take wild risks, chase extreme sensations. there comes a point you’ve done it all, and all seems boring and monotonous. ❞ ❝ with you i finally feel...harmony. a calm. feel like things are the way they're supposed to be. ❞ ❝ i'm afraid the dishwater’s as good as it gets in this establishment. ❞ ❝ sorry to take so long, but i had to deal with the guards. ❞ ❝ i’d never miss a chance to spend a pleasant evening with you. ❞ ❝ you know too much. yet one more reason why you must die. ❞ ❝ or perhaps you seek to trick me. ❞ ❝ if you acknowledge any gods...start praying, now. ❞ ❝ it’s very simple. you either deceived me...or not. ❞ ❝ i am known neither for my sense of humor nor for my patience. ❞ ❝ naturally, it would be easier with your help, but...you irritate me. ❞ ❝ love questions like that. am i holding up? what, my dick? ❞ ❝ we never hunt in these woods. not even if it means the whole village starves. ❞ ❝ we’re only ever the ones to know the truth about ourselves. ❞ ❝ you’re insolent because you believe i cannot afford to hurt you. and you’re right. ❞ ❝ i detest graveyards, especially wandering them alone. ❞ ❝ you know too much. you impede me too often. and i find your arrogance an annoyance. ❞ ❝ i know it’s wartime, but try not to be a hero, all right? ❞ ❝ i don’t know that i’ll make for engaging company. in truth, i rarely talk to men. ❞ ❝ you know...had a dream about you recently. ❞ ❝ i thought i could at least count on you to treat me seriously. ❞ ❝ don’t ask questions you know the answers to. it makes you look stupid. ❞ ❝ you’re nosy. starting to piss me off, you know? ❞ ❝ what did i do to deserve this? have i given you cause to doubt my intentions? ❞ ❝ don’t fret about me. i always get by somehow, right? ❞ ❝ i wanted to go with you --- that was my idea. ❞ ❝ i shan’t stray a step from your side. ❞ ❝ if that’s what it takes to save the world, it’s better to let that world die. ❞ ❝ what’s that supposed to mean? that a threat? ❞ ❝ i’m offering a great and true adventure, an experience like no other, the fate of only the chosen few. ❞ ❝ that’s like choosing between pestilence and the plague. ❞ ❝ what’s it matter? i only ever thought of you. ❞ ❝ did you know you’ve gained twenty-seven new scars since we’ve last saw each other? ❞ ❝ i need to know the details if you want me to get my hands dirty. ❞ ❝ don’t know you. go away. ❞ ❝ ever vigilant, even in your sleep. quite vampire-like, in fact. ❞ ❝ gotten used to people treating me like a freak, an outcast. ❞ ❝ we share a cause, then. just like the old days. ❞ ❝ ever considered becoming a burglar? skill like that’d come in awful handy. ❞ ❝ there’s never been a frown that couldn’t be turned upside down. ❞ ❝ honesty's an attribute of the truly brave --- and thus the privilege of the very few. ❞ ❝ you do not have a monopoly in altruism, my friend. ❞ ❝ great love demands great sacrifices. ❞ ❝ i believe it wise at times to share one’s secrets, unburden oneself to those one can trust. ❞ ❝ it would be nice from time to time if you could sit back and enjoy life, instead of going around solving everyone’s problems. ❞ ❝ we shall dance until the break of dawn! ❞ ❝ a man could lose his head for a lass like you. ❞ ❝ don’t have to come if you don’t want. wait here. ❞ ❝ never seen this side of you. ❞ ❝ i’m to kiss the ground you walk on, is that it? but you just did your duty. ❞ ❝ the day you give me a smile...that moment, that’s what i’m waiting for. ❞ ❝ i need a soul intelligent and clever, an individual who fears no dare. someone like you. ❞ ❝ if i was you i’d catch some shut-eye, not go on flapping my tongue. ❞ ❝ the plan is simple...which does not mean it will be easy to execute. ❞ ❝ sometimes you really get on my nerves, you know. ❞ ❝ you shall not turn on me, use what i say against me? you shall not tell anyone? ❞ ❝ gave you a chance. should’ve taken it. ❞ ❝ always better to do a bit more and even gain nothing by it, than to do too little and face regret. ❞ ❝ it’s lovely out here. the birds singing, the bees buzzing...blissful, really. ❞ ❝ what a lovely dress. the color suits you exquisitely. ❞ ❝ pretty fantastic tale. hard as hell to believe. ❞ ❝ it’s time you discovered my romantic side. ❞ ❝ you gotta understand the whole world doesn’t revolve around you. ❞ ❝ can you not see i am out of my mind with worry? ❞ ❝ every rose has its thorn, and there are no happy endings. ❞ ❝ pretty quick to reject help. why is that? ❞ ❝ don’t need to like each other. just gotta do our jobs. ❞ ❝ frankly, if i can do something for you, i'll do it, willingly. ❞ ❝ you were hired you kill me, were you not? ❞ ❝ what’s it like, going toe to toe with a monster? knowing you’ve only two options --- to kill or be killed? ❞ ❝ this place --- there’s evil here. death hangs in the air. ❞ ❝ intellect counts as much as strength. ❞ ❝ i run back inside, hasp the doors, and then i hear it --- someone whispering my name. ❞ ❝ you know i like you. unlike the rest of this lot, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. ❞ ❝ if you love somebody, set them free. ❞ ❝ if you hate me so deeply, why don’t you tell me to my face? ❞ ❝ i’m afraid you’d not realize which way the wind was blowing if you pissed straight into it. ❞ ❝ that was courageous. i'd never expect it from you. ❞ ❝ i am not easily impressed, but i must admit you have succeeded, my dear. ❞ ❝ kill me if you must. i’ve nothing to live for anyway. ❞ ❝ aren’t you an extraordinary beauty. ❞ ❝ never suspected you believed such things. ❞ ❝ wait...you want to go with me? out of the question. ❞ ❝ used to it. not the first time i’ve been hunted. ❞ ❝ enough of this hesitation, this fretting, these feelings of guilt! ❞ ❝ strange working with you. strange, but great. ❞ ❝ give me a moment. i must don something more appropiate and concealing. ❞ ❝ killing comes as naturally to me as blowing my nose. ❞ ❝ ...... another tale of a life compromised and ultimately claimed by greed and ambition. ❞ ❝ in the future, though, remember this --- i can look after myself ❞ ❝ you'd really worry about me if i went on alone? ❞ ❝ you have many merits. you merely hide them from the world very diligently. ❞ ❝ is it true virtue always trumps villainy? ❞ ❝ watch my movements. i’m spry as a cat and sly as a fox. ❞ ❝ ah, if only this could last forever. ❞ ❝ few i can rely on like i can on you. kinda hoping you think the same of me. ❞ ❝ you are angry at the whole world. you feel inferior, feel pain, though you mask this with confidence, arrogance, even. ❞ ❝ there exist worries for which there quite simply is no other medicine. ❞ ❝ your bones look thin, your breathing’s wheezy. afraid one punch might kill you. ❞ ❝ to love is to build a house of cards, or play a game of chess, but one word or ill-thought move and you must start it all afresh. ❞ ❝ i’m doing what i ever wanted to do, being who i wanted to be. i believe that’s one definition of happiness. ❞ ❝ you’ve not an ounce of refinement in you, have you? ❞ ❝ pain rules the body, but fear is born in the heart. ❞ ❝ either i get burned, or i’ll burn all else down. no other options. ❞ ❝ should you decide your sword is the sole solution, i shall not stand in your way. ❞ ❝ c’mon, come closer. ❞ ❝ would you prefer i treated you like the lying manipulater you are? ❞ ❝ i regret nothing. one lives but once. ❞ ❝ i just hope this tale has a happy ending. for me, for you. for everyone. ❞ ❝ just gonna go our seperate ways? no parting words? ❞ ❝ you still stand to be quite useful to me. ❞ ❝ i suppose you wanted to frighten me...alas, you didn’t in the least. after all, i’m a monster too, am i not? ❞ ❝ i trust no one. learned that long ago. ❞ ❝ it cannot be! you actually have a sense of humor. ❞ ❝ didn’t ask for a lecture on probability. need a simple answer --- yes or no. ❞ ❝ another word, and i shall spill even more blood. yours. ❞ ❝ you feel resentment, i understand, but we shall work through all the unfortunate matters of the past. ❞ ❝ stop playing dumb. i know everything...your plan. ❞ ❝ honestly can’t see what all those dames see in you --- you’re a stick in the mud. ❞ ❝ not showy, lovely location...perfect for romantic getaways. ❞ ❝ i hope you’re not upset i came like this, without warning... ❞ ❝ i’m still a long way from mastering anything. but i am trying. ❞ ❝ now i know how you do it. just annoy your opponents to death. ❞ ❝ word on the street is there’s a hefty bounty on your head. ❞ ❝ for a few days now i’ve been having dizzy spells. ❞ ❝ i’ve always had a way with ostensibly dangerous types. ❞ ❝ wound doesn’t look good. patch that up quick if i were you, before it starts festering. ❞ ❝ always seemed to me you were a very complicated creature, by nature. not one to resort to such simple methods like drinking your worries away. ❞ ❝ may i be honest? yes, i’m nervous. i really would prefer to just run off. ❞ ❝ father always said a wise man learns from others’ mistakes, so here i am, learning from his. ❞ ❝ ever since that horrid night...everything has changed. ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? afraid? gut feeling queasy? ❞ ❝ used to bother me, all your secrets...now i know if you have something to tell me, you’ll tell me. ❞ ❝ i so don’t feel like going anywhere. sit here a while longer? ❞ ❝ there’s something i’d like to know...how can you be so damned calm? ❞ ❝ my knees quake like a carnival rattle. ❞ ❝ honestly didn’t think this’d work. doubted anything would happen. ❞

#roleplay starters #roleplay meme #long post for ts /

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