#and once i am dead my body will not be moved from this hill

[yourlocaljonghoe]

Your Gentle Hands (Please Don't Ever Let Go Of Me Again). || Kim Hongjoong. [ Part 2 ]

Part 1 here.

Summary: meeting the local outcast shouldn't have ended with you slowly falling for him. yet you did, all while knowing you could never have this man, because you were already someones else's wife. two lovers, a dress shop, and a violent man between it all. we all know how this ends, right? ... right?

Pairing: dressmaker!kim hongjoong x fem. reader

Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

Wordcount: 22.7k

Warnings: misogyny, mentions of (domestic) violence, injuries, wounds, scars, lots of tears and trauma, allusions to sex but cuts right before the actual act

A/N: all i have to say is... thank fucking god i finally finished it. i struggled so much, and though i still love it im also so sick of this fic haha. there are so many people i want to thank for listening to my rambling, brainstorming and constantly reassuring me: @ghstzzn, @skteezcursed, @xomakara and also to @pali-writes-atiny-bit who beta read the whole thing <33 please don't forget to reblog and like! divider credits as always to @firefly-graphics!

Available here on AO3.

“When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are to become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No … don’t blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn’t sound very exciting, does it? But it is!”

Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernières

The room around you was quiet, save for the distant ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway. As a child, you'd hated this clock. Now, as an adult, you despised it.

Your hands rested in your lap, the delicate lace of the dress you loved so much pooling around you like the last remnants of a life that, albeit short, once felt full of promises. The world outside was moving on, the townsfolk bustling about with their daily tasks, their lives seemingly untouched by the darkness that has taken hold of your heart.

It was funny, hilarious even.

Because despite pretending not to, they all knew, bowed their heads in shame whenever you walked by.

Yet not a single soul had ever cared.

Not until a man was dead, and another one was jailed for his murder.

You leaned your forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching as the winter sun set over the distant hills, casting a golden glow on the town below. The streets were full of people rushing to finish their errands before nightfall, their faces etched with concern and urgency. None of them spared a glance in the direction of your family's old house, none of them knew the depth of your despair.

Or maybe they did. Maybe they just didn't care. 

It wouldn't be the first time.

The sound of the door creaking open drew your attention, but you didn't turn to look. You knew who it was. Your mother had a way of entering a room that felt like an invasion, like an unwelcome breeze slipping through a crack in the window.

“You’re still wearing that costume,” she said, voice low and disapproving. “That man. Hongjoong. You shouldn't-”

“Shouldn't what, Mother? Mourn the only person who ever truly cared for me?”

You kept your forehead pressed against the glass, your breath fogging up a small circle. The lace of your dress felt heavy now, like a shroud. Once, you had worn it with pride. It had been a gift from Hongjoong, back when his friendship, care and love felt like a lifeline. Back when you were still able to see him, touch him, kiss him-

“Why do you still have it on?” she continued, stepping further into the room. Her footsteps were slow, deliberate. “It's time to let go of the past.”

You finally turned to face her, your eyes cold. The sight of her stirred a boiling rage within you, a fury that had been simmering for too long. She looked at you with the same passive face she always had, the face of a woman who turned away from the truths she didn't want to see.

“You let him do this to me,” you said, your voice trembling with restrained anger. “You saw the bruises. You heard the screams. And you did nothing.”

She flinched, just slightly, but quickly regained her composure, fidgeting with her hands. You two had that habit in common. “I did what I thought was best. It was a different time-”

“Different time?” you interrupted, standing up. The lace dress flowed around you, the wind making it flare up. “You watched your daughter suffer, and you did nothing. That's not the past. That's just who you are.”

Your mother’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but you felt no pity for her. Not anymore. The betrayal was too deep, the wounds too fresh.

“E-everything's changed now,” she said softly. “He's gone. You’re free.”

“Free?!” you echoed, laughing bitterly. “Free to live in this prison of horrible memories? Free to be haunted by the faces of all the people who turned away? Free to watch the man I love be behind bars for a crime I committed?”

Silence fell between you, heavy and oppressive. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway seemed so, so much louder now.

“You need to let go,” she whispered, a plea hidden in her tone.

“And you need to face what you did,” you replied, your voice cold and unwavering. “Or, well, didn't do.”

With that, you turned back to the window, shutting her out once more. The sun had nearly disappeared behind the hills, casting long shadows across the town. 

You wouldn't stay here much longer. You had a plan, and soon, it would be time to carry it out.

But before that, you had to see your entire family again. And tonight, while celebrating another successful harvest season was the perfect opportunity. Even though the bond you once shared was inevitably broken, they were your family, your people, whom you once loved and shared many memories with.

One last time, you wanted to look them right in the eye.

Because afterwards, you vowed to never speak to them again.

“Miyeon isn't coming today?” you asked as you and your eldest sister set the table. Unfortunately for you, you had to take off Hongjoong’s dress for real this time. To keep the peace, your mother insisted.

“She's with child, Y/N. She can't travel that far. Unlike some of us, she actually fulfills her wifely duties”, she remarked snarky, her voice cold and arrogant. 

You didn't take her usual bait. “What a shame. May she and her unborn be healthy,” you whispered. You were being honest; you truly wanted that. Your middle sister was a good human, and you knew if she and her husband Gikwang wouldn't be away so much traveling the world, she would probably be the only family member you could truly lean on.

Unlike Jisoo, the eldest of you. Your relationship had always been strained, even as children. While you and Miyeon were close, Jisoo had always thought of herself as the best of the best, thus never bothering to actually spend time with you.

And when she married her wealthy husband, Juwon, her arrogance reached a whole new level. When your family's fortune went downhill and you had to marry below your status, her evil, cruel nature fully revealed itself to you. 

While she was always cordial with your parents and sister, in private, you were her personal punching bag.

Your sister's voice snapped you back to the present. “Father's been asking about you,” Jisoo said, arranging the cutlery with a meticulousness that bordered on obsessiveness. “He's worried.”

“Worried?” you echoed, suppressing a bitter laugh. “Funny, he didn't seem worried at all when he handed me over to a monster.”

Jisoo’s lips pressed into a thin line. “He did what he thought was best for the family. You were meant to secure our future.”

“And look how well that turned out,” you said, the sarcasm dripping from your words. “One dead, another imprisoned, and me... here, all alone.”

For a brief moment, you could swear your sister's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something almost like sympathy crossing her features. “Y/N...”

But you weren’t in the mood for her half-hearted attempts at empathy. “Save it, Jisoo. You’ve made your feelings clear enough over the years.”

Silence fell over the room as the two of you continued to set the table. God, in moments like these, you really needed Miyeon. Or ‘Always the peacemaker Miyeon’, as you called her. Because now, this large dining room, once a place full of warmth and laughter, felt like a mausoleum, merely filled with the ghosts and memories of happier, easier times. The ornate chandelier above - one of the rare expensive items your family kept after your father lost his job and status -, the polished wooden floors, the family portraits lining the walls - they all seemed to mock the illusion of a perfect family that had long since shattered.

The room fell into an uneasy silence afterwards. Jisoo's meticulously manicured fingers continued moving with precision, setting each fork and knife in its place, perfectly in order.

“Y/N,” Jisoo began again, her voice softer this time. “I know you’ve been through a lot. But we’re still family. We have to… find a way to move forward.”

You looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in years. Behind the cold exterior, you saw traces of the sister you once played with in the gardens, the sister that, despite never being interested in the same things as Miyeon and you, tried her best to somewhat bond with you, all for the sake of the family. Before life had driven a wedge between you. Now, all those memories felt like they belonged to another lifetime, a dream you could barely recall.

“Moving forward,” you repeated, almost to yourself. “It sounds so simple when you say it.”

“It’s not simple,” Jisoo admitted, setting down the last knife and turning to face you fully. “But it’s necessary.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the sound of footsteps in the hallway made you pause. Your father entered the room, his once robust frame now slightly stooped with age and worry. His eyes, once so full of authority, now seemed to carry the weight of too many regrets.

He looked as miserable as you felt. 

“Y/N,” he said, “It’s good to see you. You've been hiding in your room every time I come back from the fields, I thought… I thought you were ignoring me.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak because yes, you totally were ignoring him. Your relationship with your father had always been complicated, and recent events had only made it worse.. He had been the one to arrange your marriage, to send you into the hands of the man who had caused you so much pain. Forgiveness was a luxury you couldn’t afford, not yet.

Not ever, maybe.

“Father,” you finally managed, your voice tight. “Jisoo and I were just finishing setting the table.”

He glanced at the table, then back at you, his eyes searching your face for something, anything - understanding, perhaps, or absolution. “Thank you, both of you. It means a lot to have the family together again, minus your lovely sister of course.”

Jisoo moved to stand beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “Are you worried? She's in good health, father, the delivery will surely go well.”

You tried so hard not to get upset at the scene unfolding in front of you. Seeing him so worried about Miyeon stung, because when has he ever shown you this kind of emotion?

He nodded, but his expression remained troubled. “Where’s your mother?”

“In the sitting room,” you replied. “She’s... resting.”

The truth was, you had left her standing in the middle of that room after yet another argument, lost in her own guilt and sorrow. But you didn’t have the energy to explain that to your father. 

“I’ll go get her,” he said, turning to leave. “Dinner will be ready soon. Jisoo, get your sons from the garden.”

As he walked away, you felt a pang of something close to pity. For all his faults, your father was still trying to hold the family together, still clinging to the hope that things could return to some semblance of normalcy. But you knew better.

Jisoo’s voice pulled you back to the present. “We should finish up. Mother won’t be happy if everything isn’t perfect.”

You nodded, moving mechanically as you placed the last of the plates on the table. The scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread wafted in from the kitchen, mingling with the tension in the air. This dinner, this facade of normalcy, felt like a cruel joke. But for now, you played along, if only to keep the peace a little while longer.

Dinner was… a strained affair, to say the least. Your family gathered around the table, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on faces that had grown distant and unfamiliar. Your mother, seated at the head, looked as if she were holding herself together by sheer force of will. Beside her, your father’s attempts at small talk fell flat, met with monosyllabic responses and uncomfortable silences.

Jisoo, always the dutiful daughter, tried to keep the conversation going. “Father, have you heard from the merchants about the new trade routes? I read that they’re opening up opportunities in the south. It could be good for the farm, we could get more profit and such.”

Your father nodded, seizing on the topic like a lifeline. “Yes, I’ve been in contact with a few of them. They say the prospects are promising. It could be a chance to recover some of what we’ve lost.”

You listened with half an ear, your thoughts all over the place.

You wondered what Hongjoong was doing at this very moment. Was he getting enough food? Was the little prison cell cold? Was he… Was he thinking about you, just like you were thinking about him? All you could think about was the memory of his touch, his voice, once your only source of comfort, now a constant torment. He was the only person who had ever truly understood you, and now he was paying the price for your actions.

“Y/N?” your mother’s voice brought you right back to reality, “Did you hear me?”

You blinked, realizing she had been speaking to you. “I’m sorry, Mother. What did you say?”

She sighed, a sound full of frustration and sadness. “I asked if you had any plans now that... now that things have changed.”

You knew what she meant. Now that your husband was dead, now that the scandal had rocked your family to its core. “I haven’t decided yet,” you said carefully. “There’s a lot to think about.”

Your mother nodded, her eyes flickering to your father, then back to you. “Just remember, we’re here for you. No matter what.”

You wanted to believe her, but the years of neglect and indifference had built walls that were impossible to tear down. “Thank you,” you said, though the words felt hollow.

As the meal wore on, the conversation thankfully turned to more mundane matters - Jisoo’s children, Miyeon’s pregnancy, the upcoming harvest celebration in town. It was as if everyone was trying to pretend that nothing had changed, that you were still a family bound by more than just blood and obligation.

But you knew better. And as you looked around the table at the faces of your family, you couldn’t help but wonder if they felt that, slowly but surely, you were no longer a part of them.

Later on, as everyone else was lingering in the living room already, you turned around to your mother, now all alone with you in the kitchen. “Mother?” you asked.

“What is it?”

“The bread you made… can I have some more of it? It was… very good.”

For a split second, she looked you right in the eye. 

“...Sure, my daughter.”

She knew something was up.

But maybe, maybe, not intervening with your plans was her way of finally apologizing to you.

The small police station was cold and dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. As you stepped inside, Officer Kim, one of only four officers in your town, looked up from his desk, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity as he spotted you.

“Mrs. Y/N,” he greeted, standing up. “What brings you here at this hour?”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I need to see him,” you said, your voice cold and determined. “I need to face the man who killed my husband before he is executed.”

Officer Kim’s eyes widened slightly, but after composing himself, he nodded. “Of course. Just... be careful. He’s not in the best of moods.”

You forced a tight smile. “Thank you, Officer Kim. I brought this as a token of my appreciation.” You handed him the neatly wrapped loaf of bread. “It’s from my mother. She insisted.”

He accepted the gift with a nod. “Thank you, ma’am. That’s very kind of you.”

As he led you down the short hallway to the cells, your heart pounded in your chest. The air grew colder the more you entered the building. At one point, it was so cold you felt multiple shivers run down your spine. God, Hongjoong must have frozen to death here. 

You shook your head, taking another deep breath. You had to act, and act well, for your plan to work.

“There he is,” Officer Kim said, nodding toward the second cell. Hongjoong sat on the narrow cot, his head bowed, his hands clasped together. At the sound of your approach, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours instantly.

You saw the turmoil of emotions behind his eyes. Guilt, sorrow, and so much relief to finally see you again.

“Y/N,” he began, but you cut him off with a glare.

“Don’t you dare say my name,” you hissed, stepping closer to the bars. “You have no right to speak to me.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened, but he quickly masked his emotions. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his eyes.

“I needed to see you,” you spat, your voice dripping with venom. “I needed to look into the eyes of the man who murdered my husband.”

Officer Kim shifted uncomfortably beside you, clearly uneasy with the tension. “I’ll give you a few minutes,” he said, retreating back to his desk. “But don’t take too long.”

You waited until his footsteps faded before turning back to Hongjoong, your expression softening. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I had to make it convincing.”

Hongjoong reached through the bars, his fingers brushing against yours. “What are you doing here?” he asked again, his voice trembling. He looked unwell; skinnier than ever before, his eyes sunken in and some torn, old clothes on his shivering frame.

“I have a plan to get you out,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to ensure Officer Kim wasn’t coming back just yet. “The bread I gave him... it’s poisoned. Not enough to kill, just enough to make him sick. When he’s down, I’ll get the keys and we’ll leave. Together.”

Hongjoong’s eyes filled with a mix of admiration and worry. “You’re risking everything for me.”

“I’d risk anything for you,” you confirmed, your voice breaking. “You’re the only person who’s ever truly cared for me. I can’t lose you.”

Before he could respond, you heard a muffled groan from the direction of the desk. It seemed as if officer Kim was already feeling the effects of the poison, his footsteps stumbling as he tried to return.

“Now,” you whispered urgently. “We have to go now.”

You hurried back to the entrance of the cells, finding Officer Kim slumped over his desk, groaning in pain. He looked up at you, confusion and betrayal clearly visible in his eyes.

“Mrs. Y/N... what...”

“I’m so, so sorry,” you said softly, reaching for the keys on his belt. “I had to.”

You returned to Hongjoong’s cell, unlocking the door with trembling hands. The door swung open with a creak, and he stepped out, his hand immediately finding yours.

“Let’s go,” you said, pulling him toward the back exit. “We don’t have much time.”

“Wait,” he said, and halted his steps. Before you could fully turn around and ask what's wrong, he was all over you. 

His arms wrapped around you in a fierce embrace, pulling you close as if he were afraid you might disappear. You could feel his heartbeat, fast and erratic, echoing your own.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured into your hair, his voice choked with emotion. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

You held onto him just as tightly, savoring the warmth and solidity of his body against yours. “We don’t have much time,” you whispered, even though you wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms forever. “We have to go.”

Hongjoong nodded, pulling back slightly but keeping a firm grip on your hand. Together, you made your way out, your hearts pounding with a mix of fear and exhilaration. The night was cold and still, the moon casting a pale light over the deserted streets..

“We’ll head to the forest,” you said, squeezing Hongjoong’s hand. “I hid a few resources for us by the tree where we first met. Along with… along with some evidence. Against my former husband.”

“You want… you want to prove my innocence?”

You looked at him, and nodded. “You are innocent after all. And… and I am too.”

Hongjoong’s grip tightened on your hand as the two of you made your way through the dark, narrow streets. “I have someone who can help us,” he whispered urgently. “Someone… powerful.”

You glanced at him. “Who?”

“I can't tell you yet. But trust me, she can definitely help us.”

She?

You nodded, but your mind raced. “...Alright, let’s get to the tree first. We need those resources.”

The two of you moved down the all too familiar path. The town was quiet, the only sound the occasional bark of a distant dog or the rustle of leaves in the wind. Beside you, Hongjoong wasn't as quick as he'd usually be; the weeks of solitary confinement, barely enough food and cold temperatures were clearly evident, yet he did not once fall behind. You reached the tree where you and Hongjoong had first met, a towering oak tree.

The place where it all started.

“There,” you whispered, pointing to a hollow at the base of the tree. Hongjoong knelt down, reaching into the hollow and pulling out a small bag. He opened it, revealing the few precious items you had hidden: food, water, a change of clothes, and most importantly, the evidence that could clear Hongjoong’s name.

“These letters,” you said, pulling out a bundle of crumpled papers. “They’re from my husband. Threatening me, detailing his abuse and plans to ruin our family if I didn’t comply. They’ll prove what kind of man he really was.”

Hongjoong nodded, his eyes hardening. “We’ll make sure everyone knows the truth. But first, we need to get out of here.”

“Don't you want to rest?” you asked, clearly worried about his current state.

He just took your hand and placed a chaste kiss on it. “Later. I have to make sure you're safe first.”

“And you, too,” you added.

“And me too,” he repeated.

So, the two of you set off again, moving through the shadows, your hearts pounding in unison. As you reached the main street, you were determined to make it as far as possible, as quickly as possible. But as you rounded a corner, you came to a sudden halt.

A carriage awaited you, its dark silhouette looming in the moonlight. And standing beside it, his expression grim, was your father.

“Father,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped forward, his eyes locked on yours. “I… had a feeling you’d try to run,” he said quietly. “And I couldn’t let you do it alone.”

You stared at him, confusion swirling in your mind. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’ve made many mistakes, Y/N. So, so many mistakes. But letting you suffer in silence was the worst of all. I’m not here to stop you. I’m here to help you. Even if it means I'll never see you again.”

Hongjoong stepped protectively in front of you, his eyes narrowed. “Why should we trust you? You never protected her before, why now?”

Your father met his gaze steadily. “Because I love my daughter.”

“You're a liar,” you whispered, hot, angry tears threatening to escape your eyes.

He fiercely shook his head. “I'm a bad person, Y/N. I do not want to earn my forgiveness with this. But I'm not a liar. Never that. Take this carriage and go, wherever you two want to.”

You looked at Hongjoong, then back at your father. “And what about you?”

He shook his head. “I’ll stay behind and livel with the consequences. It’s the least I can do.”

Tears filled your eyes as you stepped forward, embracing your father tightly. It was the first hug you shared in a long, long time, and also the last one. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

He held you close for a moment, then gently pushed you toward the carriage. “Go. Be safe. And don’t look back.”

You and Hongjoong climbed into the carriage, the soft leather seats a stark contrast to the cold, hard ground you had just left. As the carriage began to move, you looked out the window, watching your father’s figure grow smaller and smaller until it fully disappeared into the night.

The carriage rattled along the narrow, winding road, the wheels clattering over the uneven stones. The night was cold, the air crisp with the promise of frost. You wrapped a blanket around yourself and Hongjoong, sharing the warmth as best you could. The lantern hanging from the carriage’s front swayed with each bump, casting erratic shadows that danced across the landscape.

The path ahead was long and treacherous, leading through dense forests and over rocky hills. Every so often, the carriage would hit a particularly deep rut, jolting you both almost freaking the horse out numerous times.

Luckily for you, Hongjoong was some kind of animal whisperer and managed to calm the horse pretty quickly each time.

As the hours passed, the moon climbed higher in the sky, its pale light filtering through the bare branches of the trees. The forest around you was alive with nocturnal sounds - the hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves, the distant cry of a fox. You kept a wary eye on the shadows, aware that danger could lurk in the darkness.

Dawn was beginning to break when the carriage crested a hill, revealing a panoramic view of the valley below. The first light of day painted the landscape in soft hues of pink and gold, the rolling hills stretching out like a patchwork quilt. It was a moment of fleeting beauty, a reminder of the world beyond your troubles.

“It's so pretty here,” you whispered. Hongjoong hummed in return, his gaze slowly becoming more and more unfocused.

He was tired, and in desperate need for some rest.

“Let me drive for a while,” you said softly, touching Hongjoong's arm. “You need to rest.”

Hongjoong shook his head, though his exhaustion was evident. “I’ll rest later. We need to put as much distance between us and the town as possible.”

“Please,” you insisted, your voice gentle but firm. “You’re no good to me if you collapse from exhaustion. Let me take over until we find an inn.”

He hesitated, then finally nodded, knowing you were right. The carriage came to a halt, and you swapped places. As you took the reins, Hongjoong settled into the seat, wrapping the blanket tightly around himself. His eyes closed almost immediately, the tension in his body easing as he finally allowed himself to rest a little.

You guided the carriage along the winding road, the rhythm of the horse’s hooves a steady, comforting beat. The landscape around you began to change as the sun climbed higher, the dense forest giving way to open fields and distant mountains. 

Hours passed, and you kept a vigilant eye on the road ahead. Occasionally, you would glance back at Hongjoong, who slept fitfully, his brow furrowed even in rest. The evidence you had gathered against your husband lay safely tucked away, a lifeline that could clear Hongjoong’s name and secure your future together.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the fields, you spotted a small village nestled at the base of the mountains. It was far enough from your town that you felt safe enough to stop for a while. The village appeared peaceful and quiet, only a few people out on the street at this hour.

You gently shook Hongjoong awake as the carriage rolled to a stop at the edge of the village. He stirred, blinking groggily. “Where are we?”

“A village,” you replied, helping him down from the carriage. “We can rest here for the night.”

He nodded, too tired to argue. The two of you made your way to the inn, a modest building with a welcoming glow emanating from its windows. 

The inn's common room was a bustling hub of activity, filled with the sounds of laughter and the clinking of mugs. The innkeeper, a plump woman with kind eyes and a warm smile, greeted you as you approached the counter.

“Good evening, dear,” she said, her voice soft and welcoming. “What can I do for you?”

“We need a room for the night,” you replied, glancing back at Hongjoong, who was leaning heavily against the wall, fighting to stay awake.

The older woman nodded, her eyes flickering to Hongjoong before returning to you. "Of course, dear. We have one room available, but it only has one bed. I hope… that’s alright?”

Her eyes flickered towards your hand. There was no ring on it and so, if you took that single bed room, it would be quiet… frivolous.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks. You yearned to be close to him, to feel his warmth and comfort, but after everything that happened, the thoughts of sleeping close to someone terrified you. And, most important in this current situation; you weren’t married yet. 

Hongjoong, sensing your hesitation, stepped forward. “That will be fine,” he said softly, tired eyes settling upon your figure. “Thank you.”

It seemed you were the only one caring about appearances.

The innkeeper's smile widened, and she quickly handed you a key. “Room 3, just up the stairs. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask.”

You nodded, taking the key with trembling hands. “Thank you,” you managed.

You carefully led Hongjoong up the narrow staircase. The wooden steps creaked under your weight, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. It seemed that with your arrival, the sound of previous laughter had fully died down. Or maybe the ringing in your ears was too loud for you to notice any other noises. When you reached the door to your room, you hesitated for a moment before unlocking it and pushing it open.

The room was small but cozy, with a single bed pushed against one wall and a small window that offered a view of the village below. The bed was covered with a thick, quilted blanket, and a simple wooden chair sat in the corner.

Hongjoong sank onto the bed with a sigh, his eyes already half-closed. You stood awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong murmured, his voice gentle. “You can take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor.”

You shook your head, stepping closer. “No, you need to rest properly. We'll share the bed. It’s... it’s fine.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and gratitude. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “Yes. We'll manage. I trust you.”

And you did. What you did not trust though were your inner demons.

Hongjoong fully collapsed onto the bed, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. You sat beside him, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “Rest now,” you whispered. “We’ll figure out the rest in the morning. I'll go ahead and fetch us something to eat, okay?”

He nodded, his eyes already closing. You stayed by his side for a few minutes, then quietly left the room to look for food you both desperately needed.

After finding some bread, cheese, and a couple of apples in the inn's small kitchen, you returned to the room. The scent of the simple meal filled the space, mingling with the comforting warmth of the inn. Hongjoong stirred as you entered, his eyes slowly opening.

“Food,” you announced with a soft smile, sitting down on the edge of the bed and handing him a piece of bread. “It's not much, but it's something.”

He took the bread with a grateful smile, his fingers brushing against yours. “Thank you,” he murmured, taking a bite. “This is perfect.”

You both ate in silence for a while. Despite the simplicity of the meal, it felt like a feast after eating little to nothing the past few days. Hongjoong's presence, his gentle smile, and the way he looked at you with such trust and affection made the food taste even better.

As you carefully cut and shared the apples with him, your fingers occasionally brushed against his, each touch sending a small shiver down your spine. The tension of the past days seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and connection. You found yourself laughing softly at the way Hongjoong tried to juggle the uncut apples, almost dropping them.

“You're hopeless,” you teased, giggling as he finally managed to catch them.

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I'm just a man hopelessly in love,” he corrected, his tone playful yet sincere.

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn't help but laugh, a genuine, carefree sound that you hadn't heard from yourself in a long time. It felt good to laugh, to share this moment of lightness with him.

As the meal came to an end, you both settled back on the bed, the small space forcing you to be close. Hongjoong's warmth radiated against your side, his arm brushing against yours. Despite the comfort of his presence, your body immediately tensed.

The last time a man laid next to you, he'd done unspeakable things to you. 

But this… this was Hongjoong. Your Hongjoong.

You trusted him.

Yet at the same time, you were still terrified.

You tried to focus on his steady breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, but your heart raced, and your skin prickled with unease. You felt a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach, your muscles tightening involuntarily.

You couldn't breathe.

Hongjoong sensed your discomfort, his hand gently covering yours. “It's okay,” he whispered, his voice soothing. “I'm here.”

You nodded, but his reassurance did little to calm the storm inside you. Your mind was flooded with conflicting thoughts and emotions. The warmth of his body was both a comfort and a reminder of all you had endured. You wanted to relax, to let go and feel safe, but your body wouldn't allow it.

Your breathing quickened, your chest tightening. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, each beat drowning out every other sound. Your hands trembled, and you clutched the blanket tightly, trying to ground yourself.

“Breathe,” he murmured, his voice soft and steady. “Just breathe with me.”

“I can't,” you sobbed.

“Shhh. Just close your eyes.”

You did as he said, focusing on his voice, his warmth. Slowly, you matched your breathing to his. The tension in your muscles began to ease, though the fear still lingered at the edges of your mind.

Hongjoong's hand never left yours, his thumb tracing soothing patterns on your skin. “You're safe,” he whispered, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. You squeezed his hand, finding strength in his presence. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace. You felt the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest grounding you. “We'll get through this,” he murmured. “Together.”

“You know,” you slowly began, carefully turning around. Now, face to face with him, you carefully lifted your fingers and started tracing husband features; his acquainted eyebrows, over husband prominent cheekbones to his soft, plush lips, where you remained a little longer.

“I don't think I'd be alive without you, Kim Hongjoong. For that… for you, coming into my life and selflessly saving me, I am beyond thankful. But at the same time… at the same time, I can't help but think that if you'd never met me… you could still live your normal life. Sometimes… it gets all too much.”

You held his gaze, your fingers repeating your previous actions of lightly tracing the curve of his lips. “You’ve given me so much, Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “More than I ever thought I deserved.”

His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. “You deserve everything, Y/N. More than I could ever give.”

The sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache. “I don't know what I'd do without you,” you said, your voice breaking. “You've been my rock, my savior. I... I don't know if I can ever repay you.”

Hongjoong's hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers gently kneading the tension there. “You don't need to repay me. Just being with you is enough. Seeing you smile, hearing your laughter... that's all I need for the rest of my life.”

You closed your eyes, savoring the feel of his touch. His fingers were warm and strong, yet so gentle. It was a stark contrast to the harshness you had known before. 

“You shine so bright, Joongie. Like the sun. My sun.”

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “And you will shine like that too again. Soon,” he breathed, his lips brushing against your skin. The intimacy of the moment made your heart race, but it wasn't fear this time. It was something else, something deeper.

Something only Kim Hongjoong could make you feel.

You opened your eyes, finding his face so close to yours that you could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I'm scared. Not of you, but of losing you. Of the future. Of what might happen if they find us.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering. “We won't let that happen. We're stronger together. They won't find us. Once we're in the capital, I’ll handle everything, okay?”

His words gave you strength, and you found yourself leaning into him, your lips brushing against his in a tender, lingering kiss. It was slow and gentle, a silent promise of your love and devotion towards each other. His hand slipped into your hair, holding you close as your lips moved together, exploring and savoring each other.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads still touching. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice filled with pure, raw emotion.

Hongjoong's eyes softened, his thumb tracing your jawline. “And I love you,” he replied, his voice just as tender. “More than words can say.”

You stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten. In his embrace, you felt safe, cherished, and deeply loved. The fear and anxiety that had plagued you began to fade, replaced by a warmth that spread through your entire being.

“Let’s rest now,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm. “Tomorrow is a new day, and we’ll face it together.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “Together,” you echoed, your voice steady.

He gently guided you down onto the bed, pulling the blanket over both of you. His arms remained around you, holding you close as you settled into the warmth of his embrace. 

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt his lips press a gentle kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “Goodnight, my love,” he murmured, his voice a soft caress.

“Goodnight,” you whispered back, your heart full. 

That night, you finally had a good, peaceful sleep.

“How long until we arrive at the capital?”

Hongjoong was leaning against the carriage window, his eyes scanning the horizon. A storm would be coming soon, he said.

“Two more days, if we keep this pace,” he replied, turning to face you. “The storm may slow us down a bit.”

You nodded. The journey had been long and exhausting, the constant tension of being on the run making you an anxious mess. But with Hongjoong by your side, you felt a strength you had never known before.

The carriage jostled along the uneven road, the sounds of the wheels clattering against the stones a constant reminder of the distance still left to travel. You glanced at Hongjoong, his face etched with determination despite the exhaustion that lingered in his eyes.

“We’ll make it,” you said softly, more to yourself than to him. “We have to.”

He reached out, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We will,” he affirmed, his voice steady. “And once we’re there, we’ll find a way to solve all this mess. To start over.”

You leaned against him, drawing comfort from his presence. 

You traveled through several more small villages, their inhabitants just beginning to stir. Farmers led their livestock out to pasture, and shopkeepers opened their doors, the smell of fresh bread and morning fires wafting through the air. The sight of these simple, everyday routines filled you with a strange sense of peace, a reminder that life went on, and that, maybe in the future, your life may look like this too.

Simple yet happy and fulfilling.

And then, you arrived. 

You gasped as the large gates of the city appeared in front of you.

The capital was a sprawling maze of streets and alleys, bustling with activity. Everything here was just so much larger, louder and generally more impressive, a stark contrast to the quiet, simpler life you had known. The noise and commotion seemed to close in around you, but Hongjoong’s steady presence kept you grounded.

“It's a lot to take in, right?” he asked.

You nodded, mouth opened in awe as you took in your surroundings. “It's huge. I can't stop looking everywhere!”

He laughed, gently squeezing your hand. “We'll have plenty of time to explore everything once we've settled in properly. I'll show you all my favorite places, okay?”

You smiled at him. A gentle, real smile. “Okay!”

Hongjoong looked around, his eyes bright with excitement despite the exhaustion. “Luckily for us, two of my closest friends live here. They’re good people, and I’m sure they’ll offer us a place to stay.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. “That would be wonderful. I can’t wait to meet them. You haven't told me much about your past, so I’m really excited, Joongie.”

“In the future, I'll tell you everything you want to know. My past, present and future are yours, Y/N.”

Your heart fluttered, and a deep blush coated your face. A sheepish smile stole its way onto your lips.

Hongjoong led you through the bustling streets, expertly navigating the maze of alleys and markets. After a few twists and turns, you arrived at a modest but welcoming home. 

He hastily jumped up the carriage and then held his hand out for you to take it. You smiled at him. Your lover was a true gentleman, and it made you feel all giddy inside, even at such a small gesture.

Hongjoong knocked on the door, and moments later, it swung open to reveal a tall, athletic man with sharp features and an inquisitive look.

“Hongjoong?” the man said in surprise, his eyes widening. The first thing you noticed was his clothes. They looked… expensive. And yet, he lived in such a small home.

You wondered what his story was.

“What are you doing here?”

“San, it’s a long story,” Hongjoong replied, pulling San into a hug. “We need a place to stay. Is Wooyoung home?”

San nodded, stepping aside to let you both in. “He’s in the kitchen. Come in.”

As you stepped inside, you were immediately greeted by the comforting smell of home-cooked food. A few moments later, another man appeared, carrying a tray of freshly baked bread. He had a playful sparkle in his eyes and a welcoming smile on his face.

“Who do we have here?” Wooyoung asked, setting the tray down and wiping his hands on a towel.

“Wooyoung, this is my friend,” Hongjoong introduced you. “She's been traveling with me.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened in surprise and then softened. “Well, any friend of Hongjoong’s is welcome here. Please, make yourself at home.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at their genuine hospitality. San and Wooyoung led you to a cozy living room where a fire crackled in the hearth. You sank into a comfortable chair, letting out a sigh as your aching muscles relaxed.

“Sorry for the sudden arrival,” Hongjoong said, his tone sincere. “We didn’t have time to send word ahead.”

San waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We’re just glad you’re safe. What’s going on?”

Hongjoong looked at you first, before briefly explaining: “It's too long of a story to share in detail. But, we had to flee from where we came from and are now on a mission to… clear up some misunderstandings. I can promise you two that you'll be kept out of any trouble. I just… need a safe place, especially to keep my woman safe.”

San nodded, curiously glancing towards you as the words ‘my woman’ left Hongjoong’s mouth. You smiled awkwardly at the man. “We have a spare room you can use, Hongjoong.”

Tears of gratitude welled up in your eyes. It wasn't much, but just having a place to stay, surrounded by people you knew Hongjoong trusted, was enough to make you feel all sorts of emotions. 

“Thank you,” you said, your voice choked with emotion. “Thank you so much.”

Hongjoong squeezed your hand again, his own eyes full of gratitude. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispered softly. “Wooyoung and San are good, nice people. How about you just relax and befriend them while I'll do the work, hm?”

“I couldn't possibly-”

“Oh, but you can”, he interrupted you, playfully playing with your hair. “My Y/N should never worry her pretty head about anything again now that she's with me.”

You giggled sheepishly. “Oh Joongie, you're such a flirt!”

“Ahem.” A voice interrupted you and suddenly, the bubble around the two of you burst and you were reminded that you were not alone but, in fact, in the house of two men who were now very openly staring at you.

One who was cackling behind his hand like a menace - Wooyoung - and the other one who did not know where he should look. You, or the very interesting ceiling?

“So, ‘my woman', huh?” Wooyoung teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Since when did you become such a romantic, Hongjoong? And most importantly: where’s our invitation to the wedding?”

Hongjoong’s ears turned a deep shade of red, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Wooyoung, now’s not the time…”

“Oh, but it’s always the time for love, Joongie!” Wooyoung replied with a dramatic flourish. “Here we were, thinking you were just wandering around from city to city and selling your dresses, but no, you were secretly out there sweeping a lovely lady off her feet!”

San tried to interject, a desperate attempt to hold the man beside him back. “Wooyoung, maybe we should-”

“San, don’t be a killjoy,” Wooyoung interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “This is the most excitement we’ve had in weeks! Besides, our Hongjoong, who couldn't even look a woman into the eye the last time we saw him, has finally grown up. We must celebrate!”

“I'm older than both of you, Wooyoung!”

Hongjoong buried his face in his hands, clearly embarrassed. You couldn’t help but giggle at the situation, feeling a bit more at ease in the presence of the two strangers now.

“Y/N, you should know,” Wooyoung continued, leaning in conspiratorially, “Hongjoong here is quite the catch. He’s a gentleman, a true and talented dressmaker, and apparently, a poet. ‘My woman’, indeed.”

San finally managed to find his voice. “Alright, Wooyoung, give them a break. They’ve had a long journey, and they need rest, not your joking.”

Wooyoung pouted dramatically. “Fine, fine. But don’t think this conversation is over, Hongjoong. We need all the juicy details later.”

Hongjoong groaned, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “You never change, do you, Wooyoung?”

“Never,” Wooyoung replied proudly. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

San shook his head, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s get you both settled in. You can rest, and we’ll talk more later. Until then Wooyoung, behave yourself.”

Wooyoung saluted playfully. “Aye, aye, captain!”

Later that evening, after a hearty meal and much laughter with Wooyoung and San, you were led into a small, cozy room. The modest bed in the corner looked incredibly inviting after the long journey. You quickly freshened up, San kindly lending you some spare clothing for the night, before returning back to the room. Hongjoong was already there, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling lost in thought. You quietly slipped in beside him, the bed creaking softly under your weight.

He turned to you, his expression softening as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

“Tired,” you admitted, snuggling closer to him. 

Only then did you realize that, despite sharing the bed with him multiple times now, this was the first time both of you wore proper sleeping clothing. Therefore, both of you were a bit… more exposed than usual.

Suddenly, you were very, very aware of the naked skin his hand was occasionally touching.

And your heart skipped a beat. This time, not of the usual warmth Hongjoong ignited within you all the time.

No, this time, there was also a hint of fear rushing through your veins.

You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the softness of his touch, yet the past clung to you like a shroud, and you felt a flicker of hesitation within you.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, low and soothing, “you can trust me.” There was an earnestness in his tone, a promise that echoed in the silence of the room. He shifted closer, his body radiating heat and a sense of safety that beckoned you to let go of your fears and open your eyes to meet him.

Nothing but sincerity and love greeted you in his gaze.

As his hand traced a gentle path along your arm, you shivered at the sensation. It was a touch that was so different from what you had known, devoid of the harshness that had once marred your skin and spirit. His fingers danced lightly over your wrist, and you felt a rush of warmth that sent a thrill through your heart, igniting a yearning you had thought was lost forever.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. You nodded carefully. It was a struggle to separate the innocence of his affection from the painful memories that tainted your every being. You could feel your breath quicken as he leaned closer, the scent of him - fresh and comforting - surrounding you like a soft embrace.

Hongjoong’s fingers slipped beneath your chin, tilting your face towards his. The way he looked at you, with such reverence and care, made your heart ache. “You’re safe with me,” he murmured, and it felt like a balm to your soul. You had craved this kind of tenderness, and even though the man in front of you was willing to give it to you, to give you his all, a remaining feeling of panic remained deep inside of you.

“I'm sorry you have to deal with this again. One may think that after we slept side by side so many times already I would get used to it. I don't know why I'm so pathe-”

“Princess, don't you dare finish this sentence. You're incredible and don't have to apologize for a single thing.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips softly against yours, a gentle caress that sent shivers down your spine. It was a kiss that said so, so much, a kiss that was patient and completely unhurried. You melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body envelop you like a protective cocoon.

You did your best to believe in his words.

That night, nothing more happened. 

Hongjoong knew that it would take you a long while to truly let go of your fears.

And, while tracing more gentle kisses along your skin, all he said was: “I don't need you to give me your body to know that you are already mine and I am yours.”

The next day, as you slowly woke up and blinked the tears away, you noticed two things immediately: winter was coming, and the temperatures were dropping quickly and, most importantly; Hongjoong's side of the bed was empty.

There was no logical explanation for the panic that immediately set in, yet you felt your chest tightening and your heart pounding quickly. You rushed out of bed, almost stumbling over your own feet as you slipped into the soft pantoffels San provided you with, and sprinted down the stairs. 

“Woah, what's the rush-”

“Wooyoung”, you interrupted the man with sleepy, still half-closed eyes, “Where's Hongjoong?”

He scratched the back of his hand. “He left when you fell asleep last night. All he said was that he had some matters to take care of and would be back early in the morning. He… isn't back yet?”

The weight of Wooyoung's words hit you like a train. If Hongjoong had promised to be back by morning, then where was he? The sun was already peeking through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room, and there was still no sign of him. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to make sense of the situation.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as the panic threatened to overwhelm you. “No… he isn't back yet,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt foreign on your tongue. 

Wooyoung's expression shifted from confusion to concern. “Maybe he got held up somewhere? You know how he is… always taking on more than he should.”

You shook your head, refusing to accept that as the answer. “He wouldn't just leave without telling me. Not like this.” 

But what if he would? 

The unease in your chest grew stronger, the fear tightening its grip around your heart.

Wooyoung reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe he's on his way back right now.”

But you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the doubt he was trying so hard to hide. The pit in your stomach deepened, and you knew you couldn't just sit around waiting, hoping that everything would be okay. 

“I need to find him,” you said, determination lacing your voice. You quickly turned on your heel, heading for the door without another word.

"Wait!" Wooyoung called after you, but you were already halfway out the door, your mind set on one thing: finding Hongjoong.

And then you pumped head first into San.

“Careful, little one. What's the-”

“Have you seen Hongjoong?” you blurted out, your voice trembling as you nearly collided with San.

San’s usually warm expression was replaced with a frown. “No, I haven’t. What’s going on? Why are you in such a rush?”

You hesitated, your mind racing. Should you tell them? Would they even understand? Hongjoong hasn't told them anything concrete about your situation as of now, and you weren't sure if you should tell them without him present.

“He’s… He’s not back yet. Wooyoung said he left last night, but he should’ve been back by now.”

San’s eyes widened. “And he hasn't said where he's going?”

You shook your head, fighting to keep your voice steady. “No. But I... I can’t just sit around and wait. I need to find him.”

San looked conflicted, glancing over at Wooyoung, who had followed you outside. “But you don’t know your way around the capital. You could get lost or… worse.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but San gently placed a hand on your arm, stopping you. “I get that you’re worried, but let’s wait a bit longer, okay? He wouldn’t want you getting into trouble trying to find him.”

The thought of sitting around doing nothing while Hongjoong was out there - somewhere - felt unbearable. He was shouldering all your problems alone, and it made you both guilty and mad that he didn't even tell you a single thing. 

Reluctantly, you nodded, and San led you back inside the house. The atmosphere was heavy as the three of you settled into the living room, the clock on the wall ticking away the minutes in agonizing slowness.

“So… uh…”

Awkward silence set in, both men looking at each other concerned. Wooyoung, trying to lighten the mood, leaned back on the couch and stretched.

“Uh.. Did you know that San literally can't sleep without hugging something? And with something, I mean me - like, this man doesn't know how strong he is and literally suffocates me every night!”, he laughs.

You glanced at San, who looked somewhat mortified, a blush creeping up his neck. “Wooyoung…” he muttered, giving him a half-hearted glare. Unfortunately, his joke did nothing to soothe your nerves. If anything, it only made the awkwardness more palpable. “Uh, that's… interesting,” you mumbled, not really knowing what else to say. You liked them both, but conversations with them always felt like you were navigating a minefield, unsure of where to step. 

Especially now that Hongjoong wasn't here with you.

San rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “It's not like that, really. It's just… a comfort thing, I guess.”

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, stealing glances at Wooyoung and San, who were both trying, in their own ways, to lighten the atmosphere. They were being so kind, so patient, but it only made you feel worse. You weren’t used to this. It was foreign, almost suffocating, in a way you couldn't quite understand. 

Wooyoung cleared his throat, breaking the silence, seemingly ignoring that you still haven't said anything to his joking attempt to lighten the mood. “So, uh, have you had breakfast yet? I can make something if you’re hungry.”

You shook your head, though the thought of eating made your stomach twist in a knot. “No, I’m… I’m not really hungry.” 

“Coffee, then?” San offered, trying to keep the conversation going. “Or tea? I think there’s still some left in the kitchen.” 

You hesitated, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “Maybe… tea?” It felt like the right thing to say, even if you weren’t sure you could stomach anything right now. 

San nodded, giving you a small, encouraging smile. “Tea it is. I’ll be right back.” He got up, his footsteps almost too loud in the quiet room, leaving you alone with Wooyoung. The silence between you and the other man was thick, both of you unsure of what to say. You could feel his gaze on you, but you kept your eyes fixed on the floor, afraid that if you looked up, he’d see just how out of sorts you really were.

Wooyoung shifted in his seat, clearly trying to come up with something to break the tension. “You know, I don’t think we’ve really had the chance to talk much… Just us,” he said.

“Yeah,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up. You wanted to be able to talk to him, to say something normal, but the words just wouldn’t come. It was frustrating - feeling like you were locked inside your own head, even when you desperately wanted to reach out. He leaned back, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I get it, though. Meeting new people can be… overwhelming.”

You looked up at him. “It’s just… I’m not really used to this. To any of this,” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Wooyoung nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I figured. But hey, no pressure. We’re just… trying to make you feel welcome, you know? You're Hongjoong's girl, after all.”

“I know,” you replied quickly, feeling a pang of guilt. “I really appreciate it. I do. It’s just… hard, sometimes.”

He didn’t press you, just nodded again, his eyes soft. “It’s okay. We’re not in any rush. We’ve all got our own issues, you know?”

Before you could respond, San returned, holding a steaming mug of tea. He handed it to you with a small, reassuring smile. “Here you go. It’s chamomile - good for relaxing.” 

“Thanks,” you whispered, wrapping your hands around the warm mug, letting the heat seep into your skin. 

San settled back into his seat, the three of you once again falling into a somewhat awkward silence. You sipped your tea, the warmth soothing your throat, but it did little to calm the turmoil inside you. They were trying so hard, and that only made it worse. You could see the effort in every glance, every word. They didn’t know your past, your struggles, and you didn’t know how to tell them - didn’t even know if you should. And so you stayed quiet, trapped in your own thoughts, feeling like an outsider despite their best efforts.

“I guess… I’m just not good at this,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“At what?” San asked gently, leaning forward slightly.

“Talking. Being around people. Making… friends I don’t know how to…” You trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Wooyoung chuckled softly, not in a mocking way, but as if he understood more than you realized. “You’re doing just fine. We’re not exactly pros at this either, you know. Most of the time, we’re just winging it.”

San nodded in agreement. “He’s right. It’s okay to not know what to say. We’re just… glad you’re here.”

Their words made something inside you ache. You still weren’t used to kindness without strings attached, to people caring just because. It felt undeserved, even after Hongjoong showed you that you did in fact deserve it, and that made you even more unsure of how to act. 

“Thanks,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. You wanted to be better at this, for them, for Hongjoong, but you didn’t know how.

Wooyoung grinned, nudging your shoulder lightly. “No need to thank us. We’re all in this together, right?”

You nodded, managing a small smile in return. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And that was enough for now.

If someone would've told you that you'd ever be genuinely mad at Kim Hongjoong, you definitely would've laughed right in their face. Because Hongjoong was the kindest, sweetest man you'd ever known, so what would ever make you angry at him?

“Ah, look who's back,” was all you said as you heard the door close behind you.

You had never imagined feeling this way toward Hongjoong, the man who you grew to love so much. But now, as you stood in your shared living room, hearing the door close behind you, that anger burned hotter, fueled by the fear and helplessness that had consumed you all morning.

You didn't turn around to face him immediately, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one only making the knot in your chest tighter. 

The sound of his footsteps approaching filled the room, and you could feel his presence behind you, close enough to touch. For a moment, you considered letting it go, just brushing it all under the rug like you’d done with so many things before. But this was different. This problem wasn't just his alone; this was your life too, your problems, your fears, and he had just walked away, leaving you in the dark.

Hongjoong hesitated. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long,” he began, but that was all it took to make you whirl around, your emotions spilling over.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” The words came out harsher than you intended, but you couldn’t stop them. “You left without saying a word, Hongjoong. I don't even know where you went! You promised you’d be back by morning, and then you just… didn’t come back. It's almost midnight now! Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

His eyes widened, clearly taken aback by your outburst. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said, his voice softening, but you could see the guilt in his eyes. “I just had to take care of some things-”

“But why alone?” you interrupted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Why do you always do this? You think you have to handle everything by yourself, like I’m some fragile thing that needs to be protected. But this is my problem too, Joong! I have a right to know, to help, to be there with you! Because…” your voice broke, and you looked at the floor as you wiped a tear away, “because the guilt is eating me alive, Joong. Without me… without me, none of this would have ever happened. It all began with me, so I should… I should take responsibility too.”

Hongjoong’s expression softened as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes. “Hey, hey, no,” he murmured, stepping closer and reaching out to cup your face, but you took a step back and shook your head silently.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Don’t act like this is just something we can brush aside, like it’s no big deal. You think you’re protecting me by keeping things from me, but you’re not. You’re only making it worse. I can’t keep doing this, Joong. I can’t keep pretending that it’s okay for you to shut me out. For you to shoulder everything alone.”

Hongjoong’s hand dropped to his side, his face crumbling with regret. “I never wanted to shut you out. I just… I didn’t want you to worry, didn’t want you to feel like you had to carry this burden. You're still so… hurt. I thought I was doing the right thing by handling it on my own.”

“But it’s not just your burden to carry!” you cried, your voice breaking. “We’re supposed to be in this together, Joong. You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle. You don’t get to just leave me in the dark, wondering if you’re okay, wondering if you’ll even come back. I was worried sick the whole day!”

His eyes were filled with a pain that mirrored your own, and for a moment, he looked like he didn’t know what to say, like he didn’t know how to make this right. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.”

You shook your head, tears spilling over your cheeks as you looked at him, at the man you loved more than anything in the world, the man who had somehow become a stranger to you in this moment. 

“I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight,” you mumbled. “You may talk to me again when you're finally ready to include me in your plans. Until then… good night, Joong.”

“Y/N, wait-”

But the door shut close behind you before he could finish his sentence.

“H‐hey, I'm sorry, I really didn't want to eavesdrop, but I heard you two arguing...” San’s voice trailed off, his gaze meeting yours. The moment your tear-filled eyes locked with his, the emotions you’d been trying so hard to keep in check threatened to overflow.

For a second, you hesitated. You weren’t close to San - not really. He was still more of a stranger than a friend, someone who was kind and caring but still somewhat distant. But right now, you felt like you were drowning, and he was the only solid thing within your reach.

Without thinking, you moved towards him. As soon as you reached him, you hesitated again, but before you could pull back, San’s arms wrapped around you in a warm, protective embrace. You buried your face in his chest, and the dam inside you finally broke.

Tears poured down your cheeks as you cried against him, the sobs you’d been holding back all day finally breaking free. San stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but he quickly relaxed, his hold tightening slightly as he let you cry it out.

The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear - it was the first comfort you’d felt all day. But even as he stood there comforting you, you still felt torn. The only person you'd ever fully confined in was Hongjoong. This was new territory for you, and it was both comforting and terrifying at the same time.

San didn’t say anything, just stood there quietly, holding you as you trembled in his arms. His hand moved slowly to your back, rubbing gentle circles as he tried to soothe you. His touch was hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing.

As your sobs subsided, leaving you with shaky breaths and red, tear-streaked cheeks, you slowly pulled back, wiping your eyes. You were still in his arms, but you felt the awkwardness creeping back in, and your gaze wandered again, not knowing where to look.

“I… I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying. “I didn’t mean to…”

San shook his head, his gaze softening. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said quietly. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to break down sometimes.”

You managed a small, shaky smile, but the uncertainty was still there, lingering between you. “I just… I don’t know what to do, San. I feel so lost. Hongjoong… he means everything to me, but he’s shutting me out. I know he has only my best interest at heart, but… This is my story, too. And I don’t know how to handle that.”

San hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly what you’re going through,” he began, “but I do know that Hongjoong cares about you - more than you probably realize. He’s just… used to handling things on his own. ”

You nodded.

“You’re… you’re really kind, San,” you murmured, your voice still trembling. “But we barely know each other. I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”

San’s expression softened even more, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You’re not a burden. We all have our struggles, and sometimes it helps to have someone to lean on, even if it’s someone you’re not that close to… yet.” He added that last word with a gentle emphasis, as if offering a bridge to something more.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and for the first time, you felt a small crack in the walls you've built around yourself. 

And so, in the heat of the moment, you told him everything. San brought you to the living room, where he carefully sat you down and wrapped you in a blanket, and as Wooyoung joined you two, you told them everything.

About your marriage, your family, your town - and about the man who took it upon himself to save you from this cruel fate.

The tension between you and Hongjoong had been unbearable for days. Ever since that night, neither of you had spoken more than a few words to each other. 

You had thrown yourself into anything that could keep your mind busy - cleaning, reading, anything to avoid thinking about the rift that had formed between you and the man you loved. 

Then, one evening, as you sat alone in the living room, lost in thought, you heard the front door creak open. Hongjoong stepped in, his presence immediately filling the room with the weight of everything left unsaid. Your heart clenched at the sight of him - he looked exhausted, worn down by the stress of the past few days.

He stood there for a moment, just looking at you, as if trying to gauge your mood, before finally breaking the silence. “We need to talk.”

The words sent a chill down your spine, but you nodded, too tired to resist any longer. “Okay,” you said quietly, standing up from the couch and facing him.

Hongjoong swallowed, his throat bobbing as he struggled to find the right words. “I know you’re still angry at me,” he began, his voice low and strained. “And I understand why. I learned my lesson, Y/N. But now… now I wanna include you. If you… if you want that.”

You didn’t say anything, just watched him, your heart beating faster as he continued.

“There’s someone we need to see,” he said after a pause, his eyes searching for yours. “Someone who can help us, who can clear my name and… maybe, just maybe, give us a chance at a life without all this running and hiding.”

You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him correctly. “Who… who are you talking about?”

Hongjoong took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. “The Queen,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s the only one powerful enough to undo this mess. I’ve been trying to arrange a meeting with her for days, but she’s… she’s not easy to reach. But now… now we can finally meet her.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “The Queen? As in… the Queen?” 

The Queen was a figure of almost mythical power, someone so far removed from your world that the idea of asking for her help seemed as impossible as wishing on a star.

But Hongjoong’s expression was deadly serious, and you could see the determination burning in his eyes. He wasn’t just grasping at straws - he truly believed this was your last chance, your only hope to end the nightmare that had taken over your lives.

“The Queen,” he confirmed, his voice steady, though his hands were shaking slightly as he reached out to you. 

“You know… I… I’ve worked for her for years, Y/N. I made her gowns, her dresses, the wedding dress she wore when she married the King… that was mine. She told me once, when I presented it to her, that if I ever needed anything, anything at all, she would do her best to help me. And I never thought I’d have to take her up on that offer, but now… I have no other choice.”

“The Queen… oh my God,” you whispered. “This is… insane.”

The reality of what Hongjoong was saying began to sink in, and your mind spun with the implications. The Queen, the most powerful woman in the kingdom, someone who could alter the course of your lives with just a single word… It was overwhelming, to say the least. You’d grown up hearing stories about her, tales of her beauty, wisdom, and strength. But those were just stories. The idea of meeting her, let alone asking for her help, seemed impossible. Yet here Hongjoong was, standing in front of you, serious and resolute.

“I know it sounds insane,” Hongjoong said, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “But this is our best chance, Y/N. Maybe our only chance. And we have evidence. The letters, remember?

“-And the scars on my body,” you whispered. 

Hongjoong bawled his hands, his jaw clenching immediately. “You never… told me you had remaining scars.”

You nodded. “Ignoring them is easier. I try to… forget them entirely when I can.”

Without a word, he moved closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in a silent gesture of comfort. You leaned into him, the warmth of his body making you relax immediately.

After a moment, he cleared his throat, shifting the focus back to the task at hand. “We need to get ready,” he said, his voice steady. “If we’re going to meet the Queen, we can’t go in looking like this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“There’s no time to waste. I have to make something for us,” he said, determination flashing in his eyes. “We need to look elegant. I might not have my supplies here, but I can work with what we have.”

Your heart raced at the thought of him making outfits from scratch. “Are you sure you can do that?”

He nodded firmly, already moving toward the small room where you were temporarily staying in Wooyoung and San's house. “I’ll figure it out. Just give me a minute to gather some things.”

You watched as he began searching through the limited fabric and materials you had, his hands working swiftly. He rummaged through the closet, pulling out old sheets and any leftover clothing you had brought along. You felt a mixture of admiration and anxiety as you realized the weight of what he was attempting to do.

“What do you need me to do?” you asked, stepping closer to him.

“There's a shop nearby that sells fabrics,” he said, already rummaging through his pockets for money, “I need you to buy me some. Can you do that?”

Your heart raced at the urgency in his voice, but a wave of uncertainty washed over you. “Uh, sure, but... I’m not sure where it is,” you admitted, glancing out the window. The sun was starting to set, and you were acutely aware of the time slipping away.

“I’ll draw you a quick map,” he said, moving quickly to grab a scrap of paper and a pen. He sketched a simple layout, marking the route to the shop with clear, careful lines. “You can do this, Y/N. Just follow the map, and don’t let anyone see you.”

You nodded. “What do you need me to get?” 

“Just some quality fabric, something that looks nice but isn’t too extravagant. Maybe something dark for me, something light and flowing for you,” he instructed, glancing up at you. “Can you remember that?”

You took a deep breath, nodding again. “Yes, I can do that.”

“Great,” he said, folding the paper and handing it to you. “I’ll need you back as soon as possible. We don’t have much time.”

“I’ll be quick,” you promised. As you turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of him, already immersed in his work, the fabric and thread strewn across the table like a chaotic canvas. 

As you stepped outside, the cool evening air hit your face. You followed the map he had drawn. The shop wasn’t far, and soon you found yourself standing in front of a small fabric store, the sign creaking softly in the breeze.

Once inside, the overwhelming scent of textiles filled your senses. Bolts of fabric in every color and texture lined the walls, and the shopkeeper gave you a curious look as you stepped in. Remembering Hongjoong’s instructions, you immediately focused on finding something that fit his descriptions. 

After scanning the shelves, you spotted a soft, flowing fabric in a light cream color that seemed perfect. You could almost picture how beautiful it would look on you. With that in mind, you also searched for a darker fabric for Hongjoong. You settled on a deep navy blue, rich yet understated, that would complement the cream tone perfectly.

With your choices made, you approached the counter, your heart pounding as you handed over the money Hongjoong had given you. The shopkeeper smiled and carefully wrapped the fabric. 

“Thank you,” you said, clutching the bundle tightly as you headed back outside. 

As you stepped through the door of Wooyoung and San's house, you saw Hongjoong still working diligently. He looked up, his eyes lighting up as he saw the fabric in your arms. “You did it!” he exclaimed, taking the fabric from you. “This is perfect!”

You smiled, relieved to see his excitement. “I hope it’s what you wanted. I wasn’t sure…”

“It’s exactly what I needed,” he said, moving quickly to lay the fabric out on the table. “Now, we can start putting everything together.”

Hongjoong spread the fabrics across the table, eyes gleaming with purpose. “This is going to be incredible,” he said, barely able to contain his excitement. You watched him with admiration as he quickly sketched designs in his notebook, his mind racing with ideas.

The first night stretched on, the room dimly lit by a single lamp casting shadows on the walls. You could hear the rhythmic hum of the sewing machine as Hongjoong lost himself in the work. 

Time blurred as the night turned into dawn, and you found yourself falling in and out of sleep. The only sounds were the soft whir of the machine and the occasional rustle of fabric. You’d occasionally catch Hongjoong stealing glances at you, and though he was clearly exhausted, there was a fire in his eyes that wouldn't die down.

By morning, the first pieces of your outfits began to take shape. “Look at this,” Hongjoong said, holding up the bodice of your gown. His excitement was contagious, and you couldn't help but smile. “It’s coming together beautifully, don’t you think?”

“It’s stunning, Hongjoong,” you replied, your heart swelling with admiration. “I can't wait to see the final piece.”

As he set it down and returned to his work, you noticed how hard he had to concentrate just to keep his eyes open. He was clearly pushing himself to the limit. You wanted to urge him to take a break, to rest for a moment, but you hesitated.

Hongjoong moved with practiced precision, cutting and sewing and cutting and sewing; repeating the same routine over and over again.

Yet, as the hours ticked by, his pace slowed down more and more.

“Hongjoong,” you finally said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Maybe you should take a break. You’ve been at this for so long.”

He paused, looking at you with those tired yet determined eyes. “I can’t stop now. We’re so close. I just need to finish your gown, and then I’ll rest, I promise.”

You sighed. “Okay, but promise me you’ll take care of yourself too. I don’t want you collapsing from exhaustion when we meet the Queen.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, but the laughter quickly faded as he nodded. “I promise, Y/N. Just a bit longer.”

A bit longer turned out to be one more day full of work.

On the evening of the second day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Hongjoong finally stepped back, surveying the gown he had made for you. The fabric flowed beautifully, a soft cream color with delicate embroidery that accentuates your figure. It was breathtaking.

“Look,” he said, gesturing to the dress. “It’s finished.”

“It doesn't matter how many dresses of yours I'll see, I'll always be amazed… you're so talented, Joongie,” you said, slowly stepping between his legs and carefully combing through his hair.

Hongjoong slung his arms around your waist and laid his head on your stomach, closing his eyes for a few minutes.

You took a deep breath, letting the warmth of his reassurance settle within you. “So, how exactly will we get to the palace?” you asked, trying to shift the focus from your worries to practical matters.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes brightening as he began to explain. “The Queen’s servants are discreet and efficient. After I sent word to her, she agreed to send a carriage for us. It should arrive tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” The reality sent your heart racing again. “Do we have everything ready? What if something goes wrong?”

Hongjoong chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry. Everything is in place. The only thing we need to do is stay calm.”

The following morning arrived way too fast. You woke to the sound of birds chirping outside and a warm breeze entering your room through the window.

Hongjoong was already up, carefully folding the outfits he had poured his heart into over the past two days. You stood up and approached him, placing a gentle hand on his back. “Are you ready for this?” you asked softly.

He nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied, offering you a small smile. 

You gave him a reassuring nod yourself, though your own nerves were starting to fray. The idea of meeting the Queen, of putting your fate in her hands, felt surreal. But there was no turning back now. You quickly changed into the gown Hongjoong had created for you, the fabric cool against your skin, yet surprisingly comforting. It fit you perfectly, accentuating your form in all the right ways, the soft cream color making you feel both elegant and ethereal.

Though the dress Hongjoong created back in your hometown, the one so blue it reminded you if the sea itself, would always be your favorite, this one was nonetheless nothing but breathtaking. 

When you finally emerged, Hongjoong’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at you for a long moment, a proud smile stealing its way on his lips. “You look… beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Just like I imagined.”

You smiled, stepping closer to him. “You look amazing, too.”

Hongjoong's gaze softened as you stepped closer. All that mattered was him, standing before you, his eyes tracing every curve and line of your face.

You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as you brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. His breath hitched at the simple touch, and you could see the raw emotion in his eyes, the love, the desire, and the lingering regret of the days you'd spent apart. 

His hands found your waist, pulling you gently but firmly against him. The heat of his body against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest, 

Hongjoong’s eyes searched yours, silently asking for permission, for reassurance. You didn’t need to say a word - your eyes told him everything he needed to know. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

When his lips finally met yours, the world around you seemed to disappear. The kiss was slow, almost hesitant at first, as if he was savoring every second. His lips were soft, warm, and as they moved against yours, you felt a deep, aching need stirring within you, a need that had been building for days, weeks, months.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Hongjoong responded in kind, his grip on your waist tightening as his other hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to gain better access. The kiss grew more intense, more passionate, as if all the emotions you'd both been holding back were pouring out in this one, desperate act.

You could taste the urgency on his lips, feel the way his heart was racing just as fast as yours. His tongue brushed against yours, sending a wave of heat through your body that made you feel like you were melting into him. The kiss was everything - sweet and tender, yet fierce and consuming.

Hongjoong’s hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, until there was no space left between you. You could feel the strength in his arms, the way his muscles tensed under your touch, and it only made you want him more. 

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Hongjoong’s eyes were half-lidded, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss. He looked at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and desire, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real, that this very moment here was real.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I love you so much.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you cupped his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs gently across his cheeks. “I love you too, Hongjoong. I always have. I always will.”

He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. And then, without another word, he leaned in and kissed you again, slow and deep, as if he had all the time in the world to show you just how much he loved you, how much you meant to him.

“You ready?” he asked as he took a step back. You instantly missed his lips on yours, but you nodded nonetheless. 

He offered you his hand, and you took it without hesitation.  

As you stepped aside, clearly overdressed in this rural neighborhood, the carriage was already waiting, a sleek, black vehicle with the Queen’s crest emblazoned on the side. The horses were well-groomed, their coats gleaming in the sunlight. A stern-looking driver stood by, his expression unreadable as he held the door open for you. With one last deep breath, you and Hongjoong climbed inside, settling onto the plush seats.

The carriage began to move slowly, the sound of the wheels clattering against the cobblestones filled the silence. You glanced at Hongjoong, who was staring out the window, his jaw clenched. 

For a while, neither of you spoke. You simply watched the world pass by outside. 

Finally, Hongjoong broke the silence, his voice low and contemplative. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

The question caught you off guard, and you turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden change in topic. But as you met his gaze, you could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in days.

The sudden shift in conversation caught you off guard, but a small smile crept onto your face as the memory came flooding back. “Of course, I remember,” you replied, chuckling softly. “How could I forget that? Ah, Django… I miss him… And Benji… oh God, my little Benji… I hope they're all well.”

“They are, my love. I'm sure they are.”

And then, as the carriage rounded a final bend, the palace finally came into view. It was a magnificent structure, with its white marble walls glowing in the fading light. The Queen’s residence was every bit as awe-inspiring as the stories had said, its towering spires reaching towards the heavens.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight, and you felt Hongjoong’s grip on your hand tighten.

As the carriage drew closer, you could see a group of palace guards standing right outside the gates, their armor gleaming under the soft glow of the lanterns that lined the pathway to the grand entrance. The carriage came to a smooth stop, and the driver emerged, opening the door for you and Hongjoong.

You took a deep breath. Hongjoong stepped out first, offering his hand to help you down. As your feet touched the ground, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

The grand doors of the palace opened with a slow, deliberate creak, revealing a tall, elegant woman dressed in a deep burgundy gown. Her presence was commanding, yet her expression was kind as she approached.

“Welcome,” she said, her voice smooth and authoritative. “The Queen has been expecting you.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Hongjoong, who gave you a small nod, before you both followed the woman inside. The interior of the palace was just as breathtaking as the exterior, with high ceilings adorned with various paintings and chandeliers that sparkled like diamonds. The floor beneath your feet was made of polished marble, and the soft click of your shoes were echoing through the halls.

As you walked deeper into the palace, the grandeur only increased. Walls were lined with portraits of past kings and queens, their eyes seeming to follow you as you passed. 

Finally, you were led to a pair of ornately carved doors, which the woman pushed open with ease. Beyond them was a grand chamber, bathed in the warm light of a thousand candles. At the far end of the room, seated on a throne that seemed to be carved out of pure gold, was the Queen herself.

She was as regal as you had imagined, with an aura of quiet power that made the room feel smaller, the air more charged. Her hair was a rich, dark color, intricately braided and adorned with jewels that sparkled with every movement. Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, fixed on you and Hongjoong as you entered the room.

“Your Majesty,” Hongjoong said, bowing deeply before you had a chance to follow his lead.

The Queen’s gaze softened as she looked at Hongjoong, a small smile playing on her lips. “Rise, Hongjoong,” she said, her voice warm but firm. “It has been a long time.”

Hongjoong straightened up, but his grip on your hand tightened. You could feel the tension in his body as he struggled to maintain his composure. The Queen’s eyes flicked to you, her expression unreadable. “I see you have brought someone with you, Hongjoong. Please, both of you, come closer.”

You nodded, bowing deeply in respect. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesty,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the anxiety that almost made you fall ill.

The Queen studied you for a moment before her gaze returned to Hongjoong. “I understand you’ve come to ask for my help?” she said, her voice carrying the weight of authority.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hongjoong replied. “We’ve found ourselves in desperate need of your help. I’ve brought evidence to prove our case, but… there is also something that only Y/N can show you.”

The Queen raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “And what is this evidence?”

Hongjoong hesitated, glancing at you before speaking. “Your Majesty, before I ask Y/N to show you the evidence, I feel it’s important for you to understand her story - our story - in its entirety.”

The Queen nodded, her expression growing more serious as she settled back into her seat, indicating for him to continue.

Hongjoong took a long, deep breath. “Y/N came from a decent, middle-class family. They lived comfortably - not wealthy, but certainly not poor. Her future should have been secure, perhaps with a marriage that would maintain or even improve her standing in society. But things took a dark turn.”

He paused, glancing at you as if seeking your permission to continue. You gave him a small nod, and he went on, his voice heavy with emotion.

“Her father… he made a decision that changed everything. He married her off to a man well below her status - a drunkard, a violent brute. This man - he was no husband. He was a monster. He raped and beat her almost every day, treating her worse than a common servant. She was trapped in a nightmare, until she… until she had to kill him in self defense to save the both of us.”

“And to protect me,” you chimed in, your desperate gaze finding the woman before you before you continued: “J-joong- I mean, Hongjoong took the blame upon himself. He… he was about to be beheaded for a crime he didn't commit, so I… I took it upon myself to release him and flee with him.”

“We are here to plead our innocence, and to ask for a royal pardon of you, your Majesty,” Hongjoong spoke, standing proud and tall beside you, like the safe haven he always was for you.

“A royal pardon, you say?” she asked.

“Yes. Since no one in our town bothered to even investigate, we ask for you to review all evidence and overturn the decision.”

The Queen’s expression remained inscrutable, giving away nothing of her thoughts. Silence stretched in the grand chamber, broken only by the faint crackling of the candles and the distant echo of footsteps in the vast corridors beyond.

At last, the Queen rose from her throne, the jewels in her hair catching the light as she moved. She descended the steps from the throne with grace 

“I can see the truth in your eyes, but understand this - granting a royal pardon is not a decision I take lightly. There must be undeniable proof,” she said.

She turned to you, her sharp gaze assessing. “Y/N, I need you to show me the evidence Hongjoong mentioned. Whatever it is, it must be enough to convince me beyond doubt.”

You reached into your cloak, pulling out a stack of worn, yellowed letters tied together with a frayed ribbon. Your hands shook as you untied them, revealing the harsh, almost frenzied handwriting of your late husband. You could feel the Queen’s eyes on you, her gaze intense, as you stepped forward and placed the letters in her outstretched hand.

“These letters,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady, “are from my deceased husband. In them, he admits to everything - his abuse, his threats, and… even his intent to kill me one day. They are his own words, Your Majesty. Written in moments of drunken rage, or cruel clarity. He was proud of what he did, and he never hid that from anyone. But he was also reckless, and he left these behind, never thinking they might be used against him.”

The Queen’s expression remained unreadable once again as she began to read the letters. The room was silent save for the sound of rustling paper. With each page she turned, you felt your heart pound louder, your hands clasping Hongjoong’s tighter.

After what felt like an eternity, the Queen looked up from the letters. Her gaze was more somber now, tinged with something that might have been pity, or perhaps understanding.

“These letters are indeed compelling,” she said slowly, “but it alone is not enough. The word of a dead man, though through his own admission, cannot fully clear your names. I need more.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Your Majesty,” you began, choosing your words carefully, “the whole town knew what was happening. They turned a blind eye, because… because they didn’t want to get involved. I don’t know if I can rely on their testimony. But… my parents, though they looked away for so long, showed great remorse before I fled. They knew what was happening, and they did nothing to stop it. I… though I can never reconcile with them, I have no choice but to trust them this one last time.”

The Queen’s gaze softened slightly as she regarded you. “And you believe they will speak the truth, even now?”

You nodded, though you felt a knot of uncertainty in your stomach. “Yes, Your Majesty. They have to.”

The Queen considered this for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Very well. I will send for your parents and have them brought here to testify. But… there's another thing you want to show me, right?”

You swallowed hard. The letters had made an impact, but the Queen needed more, something undeniable. Your heart raced as you prepared to reveal the evidence that you had hidden for so long, even from yourself.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” you replied, your voice trembling. “There is… one more thing I can show you.”

The Queen's eyes narrowed slightly. You hesitated, glancing at Hongjoong, who was watching you, his eyes telling more than words ever could. His presence gave you the strength to go on.

“My body bears the scars of my husband's cruelty,” you said quietly, “Scars that… tell the story of what he did to me.”

For a small second, something in her eyes flickered - perhaps sympathy, perhaps disgust at the thought of such brutality. But it disappeared as fast as it appeared, and she composed herself quickly. “Very well,” she said, her voice low and measured. “Show me.”

But before you could move, the Queen raised a hand to stop you. “Hongjoong,” she addressed him firmly, “you must wait outside. As you are not married, it would be inappropriate for you to remain here.”

Hongjoong looked like he wanted to protest, but he caught himself, understanding his words would make no impact. He nodded and gave you a reassuring look. “I’ll be right outside,” he said softly. “You’re not alone.”

You nodded, trying to offer him a smile. “Thank you, Hongjoong.”

As he was escorted out of the room, the Queen waited until the door closed before turning back to you. The room felt emptier without Hongjoong by your side, but you tried to stay calm nonetheless. 

As he left the room, the Queen gestured to a few of her attendants, and a group of maids quickly approached. Your dress was elegant, more elaborate than you were used to, and you realized you would need help to reveal the scars that were hidden beneath its layers.

The maids moved with practiced efficiency, unfastening the intricate clasps and loosening the delicate fabric of your gown. You felt a wave of vulnerability wash over you as they carefully peeled back the layers, revealing the faint, jagged lines etched into your skin. 

The Queen stepped closer, her gaze intense as she examined the marks. She didn’t speak, but her silence was heavy.

After a long moment, she stepped back, her eyes closing for a moment. “These scars… they cannot be ignored.” She turned to one of her attendants, a stern-looking guard who had been standing by the door. “Send for a scrivener,” she commanded. “These letters and the scars on her body must be documented.”

The man bowed and hurried out of the chamber, leaving you alone with the Queen and the maids, who carefully refastened your dress. The Queen’s eyes softened slightly as she looked at you. “Hongjoong has been a long confidante of mine, so naturally, he has my trust” she said, “But there is still a process that must be followed. The evidence will be recorded, and your parents and anyone else willing to testify will be brought before me. Until then, I must uphold the law.”

Once the scrivener arrived and began documenting the evidence, the Queen addressed you again. “You will be given quarters where you can rest,” she said, her tone kind but firm. “And I will ensure that you have everything you need until the trial begins. Be strong, Y/N. The truth will come to light.”

You bowed deeply. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

And with that, the Queen turned and left the chamber, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Now all you could do was wait.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong's voice reached you the moment you stepped into the tower room. But before you could even respond, you found yourself distracted by your surroundings. For a place meant to imprison you, the room was unexpectedly luxurious - far more so than anything you'd ever experienced. The walls were draped with rich tapestries and the bed was covered in soft linens. A large, plush rug covered the stone floor, and the air smelled faintly of lavender.

You paused, blinking in surprise at the sight. This was supposed to be your prison? It surely made you feel out of place, like it belonged to a royal guest chamber rather than a cell.

"Are you alright?" Hongjoong’s voice broke through your thoughts, concern etched in his features as he took a step closer to you. But before you could answer, the door behind you creaked open again, and a small group of maids entered.

“Your bath is ready, my lady,” one of them said with a polite bow, her voice soft yet firm. “Please, come with us.”

My lady?

You looked at Hongjoong, startled and confused. He gave you an encouraging nod, though he looked just as confused as you.

“Go on,” he said gently. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Reluctantly, you allowed the maids to lead you away, down a small corridor that connected to an adjoining room. The room was even more elaborate, with a large copper tub set in the center, already filled with steaming water that scented the air with rose petals and herbs. Thick, fluffy towels were neatly stacked nearby, and a selection of fine soaps and oils were arranged on a small table besides.

They helped you quickly undress and step into the bath. The warm water immediately melted away the tension from your muscles. As they poured fragrant oils into the water, your eyes closed and you sank deeper into the water. The maids worked in silence, their hands gentle as they washed your hair and scrubbed your skin with fine soaps. Eventually, the bath was over, and you were lifted from the water, wrapped in a thick, warm towel. The maids dried you off and led you to a big mirror where they brushed your hair and dressed you in a white nightgown that felt impossibly soft against your skin.

Once they were done, they stepped back, quietly observing you. You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself. The nightgown was simple yet elegant, the white fabric almost transparent against your skin. It flowed down to your ankles, delicate lace trimming the neckline and sleeves. It made you look delicate and almost… sensual. 

Still deep in thought, you were guided back to the main room where Hongjoong was waiting. As you stepped into the room, you saw him pacing near the window, lost in thought. The moment he heard your footsteps, he turned around, and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw you.

For a long, long moment, he simply stared at you, his eyes wide as they traveled over your figure. His usual calm and collected demeanor seemed to crumble as a faint blush colored his cheeks. He quickly looked away, his jaw tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure.

“You-” Hongjoong began, his voice strained as he took a step closer, his gaze flicking back to you before quickly averting again. “You look… beautiful.” His words were quiet, and you could see the internal battle playing out within him as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

You could see the way his eyes darkened whenever he sneaked a glance at you, something that made your heart skip a beat. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but was holding himself back. The air between you was thick with unspoken tension.

Hongjoong cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure, but the way he avoided your gaze told you that he was struggling. “I… I didn't mean to stare,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual. "I just… You-”

You took a step closer. Hongjoong's eyes snapped to yours, and for a moment, you saw a flash of something raw and intoxicating in his expression - something that sent a shiver down your spine, something that made your mouth dry and your heart beat faster.

“Hongjoong,” you said softly, the sound of his name breaking the silence that had settled between you. “I'm fine. You can-”

“Sir, your bath is prepared as well,” one of the maids said with a polite bow. “Please allow us to assist you.”

Hongjoong stiffened slightly at the offer, clearly taken aback. “Uh, that's not necessary,” he stammered, his usual confidence faltering as a blush crept up his neck. “I can manage on my own.”

The maid, seemingly unfazed, simply nodded. “Of course, sir. But if you require anything, we will be right outside.” With that, she and the others gracefully exited the room, leaving the two of you alone once more.

Hongjoong let out a quiet sigh of relief, running a hand through his hair as he glanced back at you. “Well, I suppose I should... take that bath now,” he said.

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “I'll wait here,” you said softly, trying to ease the tension in the room.

He stood there for another moment, as if he wanted to say something more, but instead, he simply gave you a nod before retreating into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Desperately, you tried to distract yourself from the fact that the man of your dreams was completely bare just a few feet away. But just after a few minutes, you had to admit that it was pointless, and so, your feet took you to the bathroom once again.

You hesitated outside the door, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew this was a bad idea, that you were crossing a line, but curiosity got the better of you. Slowly, you pushed the door open just enough to slip inside.

Hongjoong was sitting in the tub, his back to the door, the water lapping gently around his figure. Steam filled the room, the scent of the same herbs and soaps you previously used in the air. His head was slightly bowed, his eyes closed, and he seemed lost in thought, completely unaware of your presence.

For a moment, you just stood there, silently watching him. His usually sharp features were entirely relaxed, his shoulders sacked as he soaked in the water. You couldn’t help but admire the way the droplets clung to his skin, the way the muscles in his back moved with each breath he took.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you silently crossed the room. The soft pads of your feet made no noise on the stone floor as you approached the tub. Without thinking, you reached for a cloth that was hanging nearby, dipping it into the warm water.

He still hadn’t noticed you as you knelt beside the tub. Your hand hovered for a moment before you gathered the courage to press the cloth gently against his back.

Hongjoong stiffened immediately, his eyes snapping open as he realized someone was there. He turned his head sharply, his eyes wide as he met your gaze.

“Y/N?” His voice was breathless, and he immediately tried to shield his naked body from you. “What are you doing?”

You bit your lip, trying to fight back the blush that was creeping up your cheeks. “I thought… I thought I’d help you relax,” you said softly, your voice trembling with nerves.

Hongjoong’s gaze flicked down to the cloth in your hand and then back to your face. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the way his breathing had quickened, the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

“Y/N… you don’t have to…” He trailed off, his voice faltering as you began to gently scrub his back, your movements slow and careful. You could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away under your touch.

He let out a shaky breath, his head dropping forward again as he allowed himself to relax. “You don't have to do this,” he murmured, though he didn't sound entirely convinced either.

You smiled a little, continuing your work, the cloth gliding over his skin in soothing circles. “Maybe not,” you whispered, “but I wanted to.”

Hongjoong’s breathing was uneven, each exhale shaky as you worked your way across his shoulders, the cloth tracing the lines of his muscles. You could see the way his body tensed, his fists clenching against the edge of the tub as if he was trying to control himself. 

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost pleading. “W-we should really stop… I-”

You gently pressed a finger against his lips, silencing him almost instantly. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, “I want to… I’m ready.”

His eyes found yours, wide with surprise and something else - something deeper. His gaze searched yours, as if he was trying to find any hint of uncertainty, any reason to stop this before it went too far.

But you didn’t waver. You had been through so much, had faced so many demons from your past, and now, standing here with him, you felt a sense of clarity you hadn’t in a long time. You wanted this, wanted him - wanted to break down the walls you had built so carefully around your heart.

Slowly, you leaned in closer, your breath mingling with his as you pressed a soft kiss to his temple. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact, a shiver running through his body. You could feel his resistance, the way he fought to hold himself back, but there was also something in the way he leaned into your touch, a silent plea for more.

Your lips traveled from his temple to his ear, brushing against the sensitive skin as you whispered, “I know you try to hold yourself back for my sake. But I’m not scared, Joongie. Not anymore.”

Hongjoong’s eyes were locked on yours, the intensity in his gaze making your breath hitch. Without breaking eye contact, he stood, water cascading off his naked, sculpted body, droplets glistening on his skin in the soft, dim light of the room. 

Before you could say anything, his arms wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly from where you stood. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled you close, his wet skin soaking through your clothes as he carried you out the room. 

He reached the bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, the fabric cool against your heated skin. You looked up at him, your heart racing as he knelt beside you, droplets of water still clinging to his skin, his hair damp and falling into his eyes. He was completely bare, his body on full display, and yet his focus was entirely on you.

Slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, passionate kiss. His hand slid up your side, fingers grazing your ribs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The kiss deepened, his tongue teasing yours, fighting your own in a battle of dominance you quickly lost.

Hongjoong’s hand moved under your gown, and with a gentle tug, he began to lift it, his fingertips brushing against your skin as he pulled it over your head. The cool air hit your newly exposed skin, making you shiver, but the heat of his gaze warmed you instantly. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, his eyes so full of love and lust it made you ache.

“You’re so, so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. He leaned in again, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving soft, lingering kisses as he made his way to your collarbone. Each kiss sent a jolt of electricity through you, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt him explore your body with his lips, his hands, his entire being.

He moved lower, his hands sliding over your skin, slowly. You shivered under his touch, your hands gripping the sheets as you tried to steady yourself, your heart pounding in your chest.

His hands moved delicately, tracing the lines of your body, exploring every curve, every dip, every inch of your skin. He was in no rush, savoring it all; every moment, every touch, every breath you took. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, it was as if he was worshiping you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him.

“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips, his voice shaky, filled with emotion. “I want this to be perfect for you… for us.”

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your eyes meeting his with a soft, reassuring smile. “It already is,” you murmured, your voice filled with the same emotion you saw reflected in his eyes. “You make everything perfect for me, Joongie.”

He smiled, a tender, almost shy smile that made your heart flutter. “I’ve wanted this for so long… wanted you for so long,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I know,” you whispered back, your fingers brushing through his damp hair. “I’ve wanted this too… I’ve wanted you.”

His breath caught in his throat, his eyes darkening with something deeper, more intense. “I’m scared… of hurting you,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “Of moving too fast.”

You shook your head gently, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. “You could never hurt me,” you assured him softly. “I trust you, Hongjoong. I’m ready… because I know these hands of yours could never hurt me like he did.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to steady himself. When he opened them again, they were filled with an intensity that took your breath away. “I want to love you… properly, Y/N.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love and adoration for the man above you. “Then love me, Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. “Love me the way you’ve always wanted to. Make me yours.”

He chuckled, before slowly lowering himself into you. “Silly woman. You've been mine the moment I met you.”

If anyone would've told you you'd ever see your parents on their knees, begging for mercy in front of you, you would've laughed right in their face.

But here you were. Witnessing it at this very moment.

Well, technically it wasn't in front of you - but the Queen, who was looking at them with intense, cold eyes.

You stood to the side, Hongjoong right beside you, close enough to witness every detail, yet far enough to keep the emotional distance you needed to not break down in tears.

The Queen's voice cut through the silence. “You have been called before the court to deliver your testimony. If you lie, it will have severe consequences,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We have gathered here today because a man was killed. Without any evidence or witness testimony, it was decided that Kim Hongjoong was the one responsible and would be hanged for it. Now, after careful investigation, I and everyone else here is fairly confident that this is not what happened. The man who died abused his wife L/N Y/N for close to a decade. And everyone supposedly knew. On the night of the alleged crime, it is to be assumed he came home to beat her once again. Kim Hongjoong was just there at the wrong time. Y/N had to kill her husband in self defense to protect the both of them,” the Queen continued. 

The whole room was deadly silent. Only the occasional sobs of your mother could be heard.

“Now I ask of you to truthfully answer my questions”, she said, looking at your parents directly, “is it true that you knew your daughter was getting abused?”

The silence that followed the Queen's question was suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Your father kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his hands trembling slightly as he knelt beside your mother. 

You remembered the last time you saw him. The moment where he apologized, where you saw the pain in his eyes. But would he also admit to his faults in public?

The Queen's eyes bore into them. She was not just asking for a simple answer; she was demanding the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And there was no escaping it.

Your father was the first to speak, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and strained. “We… we knew,” he confessed, the words stumbling out of him like a boulder finally giving way to gravity. “We knew what was happening, Your Majesty.”

A collective gasp rippled through the courtroom, but you remained still, your heart pounding in your chest as the truth you had been denied for so long was finally laid bare. Your mother’s sobs grew louder, her hands covering her face as if to shield herself from the reality of what was happening.

The Queen’s gaze did not waver. “And yet, you did nothing to help her?” she pressed, her tone hardening. “You allowed your daughter to suffer for years, without lifting a finger to protect her? Knowing that one day she could possibly be killed?”

Your mother finally lifted her head, her face streaked with tears. “We… we were afraid,” she stammered, her voice shaking with emotion. “We didn’t know what to do… We thought… we thought it would be worse if we intervened.”

A bitter taste filled your mouth as you listened to their excuses. They had left you to fend for yourself in a nightmare, and had turned their backs on you when you needed them the most. 

Even after you tried for months, years to come to terms with their betrayal, it still hurt deeply.

The Queen narrowed her eyes, but her expression gave nothing away. “You thought it would be worse?” she repeated, “Worse than watching your daughter endure unimaginable suffering? Worse than allowing her to be beaten, night after night, while you did nothing?”

Your mother’s tears flowed uncontrollably now, her sobs wracking her body as she nodded, unable to form any coherent response. Your father remained silent, his head hanging low, as if the weight of his guilt was too much to bear.

The Queen’s gaze flicked to you for a moment, her expression softening just slightly as she took in the sight of you standing there, silent and strong beside Hongjoong. 

This wasn't the first time you saw that expression on her face, and for a second you were left wondering if, maybe, she understood your pain. Really understood.

From woman to woman, from victim to victim.

“Your Majesty,” your father spoke again, his voice hoarse with emotion. “We… we failed her. We know that now. We were wrong, and we are deeply sorry.”

For a second, his eyes found yours. And though you knew you could never forgive them, you saw nothing but love and guilt in your father's eyes.

Maybe in another life, where you as a woman would have more rights, you all could have been a happy, normal family.

Maybe.

“But… There is one last thing I want to do for my daughter,” he whispered. “Your Majesty, if I may…?”

Her gaze flicked towards you. You clutched Hongjoong’s hands tighter, before giving her a final nod.

“Go on,” she said.

Your father hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage, before speaking again. “I brought them here, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “The rest of the people who stayed quiet. I brought all of them here today.”

The Queen raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking between your father and you. The courtroom seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her decision. Your eyes widened and you immediately felt a lump form in your throat. 

Finally, the Queen nodded, “Bring them in.”

She turned towards the grand double doors at the back of the room, and with a slight motion of her hand, the guards opened them. One by one, a dozen people began to file in, their faces pale and solemn. You recognized each one of them - neighbors, former friends, even the local shopkeepers who had all turned a blind eye to your bruises and hushed cries for help. They looked as though they were walking to their own execution, eyes downcast, hands desperately clutching their clothes.

As they entered, they arranged themselves in a line before you, and then, as if guided by an unspoken command, they all began to bow. The sight of it - the people who had once ignored your pain now bowing before you, in front of the Queen herself - struck you like a blow to the heart.

You tightened your grip on Hongjoong’s hand, your breath hitching as the overwhelming weight of the moment began to settle over you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and no matter how much you tried to hold them back, they eventually began to spill over, silently tracing lines down your cheeks. Hongjoong’s hand remained warm and steady in yours, his presence grounding you as you struggled to process the scene before you.

Slowly, an elderly woman who had been your neighbor for years, stepped forward. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Y/N… we have no excuse for what we did, or rather, what we didn’t do. We failed you, just as your parents did. We saw the signs, but we chose to look away, to pretend it wasn’t our business. And for that… we are truly sorry.”

As everyone in line took their turn to speak, offering their apologies, their regrets, and their shame, the emotions you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. You wept openly now, the sound of your sobs filling the otherwise silent courtroom. These were the apologies you had never expected to hear, the recognition of your suffering that had been denied to you for so many years.

Hongjoong wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, and you leaned into him, burying your face in his neck. The tears kept coming, and you let them. 

After each person spoke to you, they all remained bowed, waiting for your response. The Queen, too, seemed to be waiting, her gaze fixed on you.

You took a shaky breath, wiping your tears with the back of your hand as you tried to find the right words. But there were no words that could truly capture the enormity of what you were feeling. So instead, you simply nodded, acknowledging their apologies once and for all.

“Thank you,” you managed to whisper, your voice raw and hoarse. “Thank you for saying what I needed to hear… even if it’s too late.”

There was a collective sigh of relief from the crowd, but the weight of the moment still pressed down heavily on you. The Queen stepped forward, her presence immediately commanding everyone's attention. “You have all acknowledged your failings here today,” she said, “A man has died, and even if Y/N pulled the trigger, everyone here knows that at the end of the day, she remains an innocent woman. A woman who had to save herself because no one else did.”

As her final words settled over the courtroom, you felt a deep, heavy relief wash over you. The people who had failed you had spoken their apologies, and though it could never erase the pain you endured, the recognition of your suffering soothed your wounded soul.

Hongjoong kept a protective arm around you as you walked outside. The air outside the courtroom was crisp, the world feeling both too small and too vast after what had just happened. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, when you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

“Y/N!”

You turned just in time to see your sister Miyeon rushing towards you, tears already streaming down her face. Her belly was still slightly rounded from her recent pregnancy, and in her arms, she cradled her newborn, your tiny niece or nephew, who was bundled up warmly against her chest.

Miyeon threw her arms around you, careful not to hurt her child, pulling you into a tight embrace as she sobbed uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry,” she choked out between sobs, her voice filled with guilt and anguish. “I didn’t know... I didn’t know everything that was happening. If I had known, I would have been there for you. I should have been there for you!”

You held her tightly, your own tears spilling over once more as you buried your face in her shoulder. “Miyeon, it’s okay,” you whispered, even as your voice trembled. “I know you would’ve helped me if you could. You were far away, and you had no idea. You were also preparing to be a mother… I never wanted to burden you with my pain.”

“But you’re my sister,” she cried, pulling back to look at you with red, puffy eyes. “I should have been here. I should have done something, anything, to protect you. How could I have let this happen to you?”

You shook your head. “You couldn’t have known, Miyeon. None of this was your fault. I don’t blame you, not even for a second.”

Before you could respond, her husband, Gikwang, who had been standing a few steps behind her, joined the two of you. His expression was filled with compassion and guilt as he handed you a small, trembling bundle. “We… we brought something for you,” he said gently. “One of Hongjoong’s neighbors found him in his house and thought you’d want him back.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he placed the tiny, trembling creature in your arms.

“Benji!” you cried out.

The moment he was in your arms, the dam you had been holding back broke entirely. You clutched him to you, your sobs echoing through the quiet corridor as you cried even harder than you just moments before.

Hongjoong stood beside you, his hand on your back, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears as he watched you cradle Benji. Miyeon wrapped her arms around both you and Benji, and for a long, long while, you simply stood there, the three of you wrapped in a comforting embrace. As you finally pulled back, wiping your tears away, you looked at Miyeon and Hongjoong, then down at Benji, who was now purring softly in your arms, and also at Gikwang and their newborn child.

With a trembling but genuine smile, you whispered, "Thank you, Miyeon. Thank you for being here. And thank you for bringing him back to me."

Miyeon nodded, her own smile breaking through her tears. "I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. No matter what. You and I will keep in contact, right? You'll come visit me and I'll visit you, right? And… and you and Hongjoong will be happy together, right?”

As you wiped the last of your tears away, you gave Miyeon a firm nod. “Yes,” you replied, your voice steady for the first time in what felt like an eternity. “We will keep in contact. I’ll visit you, and you can come visit us. And yes… Hongjoong and I will be happy together. We’ll find a way to move forward.”

Miyeon smiled through her tears, her grip on her newborn tightening slightly as she nodded back. “Good,” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. “That’s all I want for you, Y/N. To be happy. You deserve that more than anything.”

Gikwang placed a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder. “You’re strong, Y/N,” he said softly. “And even if your parents and Jisoo aren't included, you have us that care about you, no matter how far apart we may be.”

You took a long, deep breath before looking down at Benji, who was still purring contentedly in your arms, then up at Hongjoong, who met your gaze with a look of unwavering support and love.

“Let’s go,” Hongjoong murmured, his hand gently squeezing yours. “It’s time to head home.”

You nodded. Turning back to your sister, you reached out and gave her one last, lingering hug. “I’ll see you soon,” you promised, “until then, take care. And also of your bab-”

“Jihoon. His name is Jihoon,” she whispered, carefully cradling the baby in her arms.

You smiled warmly at her and her child. “Take care of Jihoon too, okay?”

With that, you and Hongjoong turned and began to walk away, Benji still cradled safely in your arms. 

“Hey, Joongie?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“Do you think Django is doing well?

He laughed. “Oh, I know he is. That damn goat is probably terrorizing the whole town by now.”

My Dearest Husband,

I hope this letter finds you well and you are not too weary from your travels. Though I'm proud the Queen has once again asked for one of your dresses, the house feels a little quieter without you here, though Miyeon, Gikwang, and little Jihoon are doing their best to fill the void. You wouldn’t believe how much he’s grown since you last saw him – he’s already running around like he owns the place. God, I’ve had to take more breaks than usual chasing after him. I’m sure you can guess why.

Miyeon has been a great help, though, and Gikwang even managed to fix the squeaky gate that’s been bothering you for months. We spent yesterday walking along the shore, Jihoon squealing with delight every time the waves came in. It made me think of how much you would’ve enjoyed the sight with him together. The sea is as beautiful as ever, though not nearly as beautiful as it is when I get to share it with you.

Oh, our little shop is thriving more than I could’ve imagined. Your teachings on sewing have paid off wonderfully, and the people can’t seem to get enough of the dresses I make. I'm so honored, though I still try and convince them yours are so much better. They keep saying how elegant the stitching is and how there’s something special about each piece. I always smile and tell them it’s because they were made with love – a love you taught me with every thread and needle. Though I do admit, I’ve had to slow down a bit these days. The shop misses you, too, but it’s running smoothly, and I can’t wait for you to see how well it's been going. 

I know you were worried about leaving me alone, but honestly, my love, you overthink too much. I think you forget sometimes just how capable I am. I may be waddling more than walking at this point, but I can still manage just fine, especially with Miyeon here to keep an eye on me. But I can’t help but smile when I think about how you’re already fretting over our little one, even before she’s born. You and your little princess – I can just see it now, the way you’ll spoil her rotten with all those tiny dresses you’ve been making. If she’s anything like her father, she’ll be quite the charmer, and I can’t wait to see you two together, hand in hand, as you show her the world.

She’s been kicking more these past few days, and it hurts like crazy. I can't wait to finally meet her. I’m already dreaming of the day when we’ll finally get to meet her. I know you’re just as eager as I am – I can see it in the way you smile whenever you talk about her. Our little princess. I think she knows, too, because she always seems to calm down when I think about you.

So, my love, don’t worry too much about us. We’re safe, happy, and counting down the days until you’re back home. The sea is waiting, the shop is thriving, and most importantly, your little family is here, eagerly anticipating your return. I’ll keep everything running smoothly until you’re back – though I must admit, I’m looking forward to resting when our little one decides it’s time to make her grand entrance.

Take care of yourself, and don’t let business keep you away for too long. We miss you dearly.

With all my love,

Your Wife

[mendingbone]

i keep seeing people in their late teens/early twenties having a "[X] content intended for younger audiences does not feel satisfying to me anymore but i don't know where to start to branch out into adult fiction" moment and i thought i would give some recommendations for adult fiction for my fellow creepy crawly queer people. all or at least a LOT of it will be on the darker and more fucked up side bc i primarily engage with horror and thriller media personally but feel free to add on with more or recommendations from other genres :)

edit: i am continuing to add to this list so there might be new recs (highlighted in pink) in here every once in a while! also want to add that there's a variety of POC, queer, and disabled authors in here as well, i am also all of the above (asian, aro lesbian, poly, disabled) and tried to incorporate as many wickedly talented, compelling narratives as possible. that's all, happy reading!

A Certain Hunger, Chelsea G. Summers

A Darker Shade of Magic, V. E Schwab*

A Dowry of Blood, S.G Gibson

Animal, Lisa Taddeo*

A Ripple of Power and Promise, Jordan A. Day*

Bunny, Mona Awad*

Children of Blood and Bone, Tomi Adeyemi*

Cursed Bread, Sophie Mackintosh*

Dark Places, Gillian Flynn

Dead Girls Don't Say Sorry, Alex Ritany

Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead, Olga Tokarczuk*

Eileen, Ottessa Moshfegh*

Fruiting Bodies, Kathryn Harlan*

Goddess of Filth, V. Castro*

Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn

House of Leaves, Mark Danielewski

If I Had Your Face, Frances Cha*

Into the Drowning Deep, Mira Grant

Iron Widow, Xiran Jay Zhao

Jackal, Erin E. Adams*

Juniper and Thorn, Ava Reid*

Kindred, Octavia Butler*

Manhunt, Gretchen Felker-Martin*

Mexican Gothic, Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Ninefox Gambit, Yoon Ha Lee*

Rabbits, Terry Miles*

Scorched Grace, Margot Douaihy*

Sharp Objects, Gillian Flynn

She is a Haunting, Trang Thahn Tran

Slewfoot, Brom

Sorrowland, Rivers Soloman

Summer Sons, Lee Mandelo

Supper Club, Lara Williams*

The Centre, Ayesha Manazir Siddiqi*

The Change, Kirsten Miller

The Death of Jane Lawrence, Caitlin Starling*

The Dreamer Trilogy, Maggie Stiefvater

The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson

The Hollow Places, T. Kingfisher*

The Human Origins of Beatrice Porter, Soraya Palmer*

The Jasmine Throne, Tasha Suri

The Locked Tomb, Tamsyn Muir

The Luminous Dead, Caitlin Starling*

The Red Tree, Caitlin Kiernan*

The Unfamiliar Garden, Benjamin Percy*

Vicious, V. E Shwab

Wake, Siren, Nina MacLaughlin*

We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Shirley Jackson

What Moves the Dead, T. Kingfisher*

[probablyspooky]

Strength p. 2 (Feral Predator x Fem!Reader)

Previous

Trigger warning : Abuse, swearing, nsfw, white men

As days turn to weeks, and weeks to month, you've settled into your new life fairly well. You're never hungry, and he'd never raise a hand to you, and he makes sure that no harm comes your way. As the warm summer air grows colder, and the snow begins to fall, your new lover stays inside more with you.

"Does this always happen?", he asks, holding you to his lap

"What does? The snow?" you turn to him

"It doesn't happen where I'm from." he replies, clicking softly

"It happens at the end of the year, and the beginning of the new year, it gives plants a rest..." you reply softly, leaning into his chest

"I should hunt to get pelts...warmth is important in these times?"

"They are, but are you sure you wanna go out? Could I perhaps come with you?"

"You have no warm clothing, I don't want you to work too hard, conserve your heat. I will return shortly."

With that, he slid you off of his lap, and walked out of the den, cloaking into the winter air and disappearing.

Leaving you to your lonesome, you curled up in a thin fur and laid down, trying to hold as much heat in as you could, the heat radiating off the small fire Feral had left behind was not sufficient enough for you to keep as warm as you'd had hoped.

Closing your eyes you remind yourself of an easier time, in the dark stone bowels of a building, it was dark and leaky, but at least the coals in the fireplace kept you warm.

However the price of warmth is not worth the comfort of the fire, as you were often mistreated and harshly punished by those above you.

Yet here you are, safe, in cave with your love, not the love you expected but it didn't matter.

As your thoughts flooded your head, your throat became parched, peaking over to the bowl that usually contains water, you noticed it was sadly empty (just like your brain, no valley or bumps)

Taking initiative, you decided to slide on your boots and head out into the cold world to retrieve water. The cold was bearable, as the fur was tightly held against your body as you traveled down hill towards the stream.

Once you arrived you knelt down to slide the bucket into the chilling water. Your mind was elsewhere as the familiar smell of cigar smoke filled your lungs, as you turned in panic, your world went dark.

Waking up and feeling an aching pain on your head, your head lifts to see the horrifying realization that you were in a camp, his camp. Struggling against your restraints, you alerted him that you were awake.

With a rough hand, your former master lifted your head up, that disgusting beard of his littered with bits of meat, and that stinking cigar in his mouth.

"Well well, I thought you dead, but call me surprised when I saw your little head when we was hunting," he chuckled, blowing a cloud of sickening smoke into your face

Coughing, your eyes began to water, fear replaced the comfort in your heart at your new situation.

"P-please...let me go" you asked quietly, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks

"Well... you see I would, but you're still technically my property as you didn't die during our game last season. Since I am a humble man, I'm willing to let bygones be bygones if you tell me where you got a fur this nice." he asked, holding up the fur Feral had gotten for you.

"I-I can't, please, let me go"

A harsh slap stung against your cheek as you let out a loud cry of pain. A being, who was currently about a mile away, perked out at the sound

"I won't ask again, I could make a lot of money from these furs, they seem to be cleaned so finely, I doubt these are your work, so did you meet up with a native?" he sneers at you, taking the cigar out of his mouth, turning the searing red hot end towards your cheek

"Speak darling," he whispered as it moved closer to your sensitive flesh

You began to pull back, but where could you go, you had nothing, you were going to go through it all over again, feeling the heat radiate off the cigar, you braced yourself for the painful burn that was coming.

But it never did, off at the edge of camp, one of the men fired off into the distance, everyone's attention was turned, as everyone began to shout, and then the screams, the screams of agony, as they faced a being that could not be seen, your former master turned and dropped his cigar.

"What the hell..." he mumbled, drawing his pistol.

A man flew through the air, as he fell to the ground in agony and fear, he tried to crawl away, but it seemed all the air had been pressed out of his lungs, and with a sickening crack, whatever the force was broke his spine, and his eyes glazed over as his body gave out.

Your former master (who will now just be called master because I'm lazy), stepped forward, looking around at the group of men that now littered the ground in bloody heaps.

"Who goes there?" he shouted, pointing his pistol into the air, unsure of where the enemy would be.

You felt the rope holding you back loosen, as you felt a warm presence on your side, safety now covering you, you stepped back as the presence stepped forward, sparkling as his cloak slowly turned off, showing his form, his height and his menacing self, he stood behind your master, and clicked, tilting his head.

Master turned, and let out a scream of horror as Feral grabbed his face, and lifted him up into the air, masters screams filled the forest, you covered your eyes, and heard a sickening crunch. After a bit, two large hands pulled your hands down, and with a playful lick, Feral assured you of your safety.

Climbing onto his back, you nuzzled your face into his shoulder, finally being rid of your greatest enemy at last.

[lethalchiralium]

spin off of this post.

simon “ghost” riley/female reader, death stranding au

It’s not unusual for Ghost to find dead people out in the open. It happens every once in a while, most bodies are just taken to incinerators in fear of a void out. But this one must be fresh, it’s still against a rock under an alcove - the BTs have been groaning and invisibly moving towards it. If he didn’t grab the corpse first, Lord knows he’d end up a BT too.

He took strides towards it, the wails of the undead didn’t phase him as he walked by - their shrieks becoming a distant sound as they floated away from his vision. Sometimes, he felt like the only person on Earth who could scare away the monsters. His boots were quiet against the mud, he kept his steps as light as he could. If this body has turned necro, he’s fucked.

He glanced towards the BTs, watching the handprints of tar lead away from his position before he turned his head back to the corpse, only to find it standing and looking directly at him. He stopped in his tracks, his heart rate lurching as he observed the fear in your eyes.

“You’re not a Homo Demen, are you?”

Thunder cracked overhead, you flinched in your glittering silver porter suit. Ghost shook his head, the timefall hadn’t stopped - if this was the world back then, he would’ve looked up at the sky to feel the rain on his skin. Now, it would rot him from the outside in, just like the fucking lunatics that are a part of the terrorist group.

“I haven’t lost my mind enough to join those wankers.”

The fear in your eyes marginally disappeared as you squinted a little, glancing around, noting that the BTs had gone. “What are you doing out here?”

Ghost deadpanned underneath his chiralium laced mask. “Enjoying the weather.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

That’s when he noticed the way you were standing, one gloved hand on the boulder, one foot being held a little off the ground. Climbing accident? He glanced around, not seeing a ladder or rope in the vicinity.

“What happened to your foot?”

You glanced down before looking back up at him again, Ghost could see the defensiveness in your one-legged stance.

“Rolled my ankle.”

He grunted in response, rolling his eyes. Sure, rolled your ankle “escaping” BTs, totally not accidentally rolling down this hill into BT territory. He rolled his wrist towards himself, opening his cuff link menu. There’s a delivery up the hill to the Weather Station, he could leave you there. He doesn’t have much interest for a living, breathing, and yapping package. He has Johnny back at Port Knot City to do that.

“Could you take me to the Timefall Farm?”

He looked up from his hologram menu, eyes squinting at you. “Weather Station’s closer.”

You sighed, reaching up and tugging your hood farther down to shield more of your head and face. “It’s too close to the Demens.”

“Everywhere’s too close to the Demens.” He looked back down at his cargo list, noting that he had to go by the Weather Station to complete his delivery. Not to mention, he just came from the farm, he’s not key on doubling back when he’s been doing so well with his time. “It’s Weather Station or bust, kid.”

There was a soft murmur from you, he barely glanced at you again. There should be a path through the rocks and all the way back to the-

“Okay.”

Ghost flicked his wrist, his cuff link turning off before looking back at you. And without a word, he took out a folded up bag, tossing it towards you. You instantly recognized what it was.

“I’m not getting in a body bag.”

“Then I guess you’re stuck with the BTs.”

Your look of embarrassment could be seen from a mile away - you were a porter, dammit, you didn’t need to be carried. But your probably broken ankle said otherwise.

“God dammit.”

[cosmic-crybaby]

Break My Heart Again - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Part 5

Summary: After being childhood friends, you and Thomas made a promise one day to get married, but when he returned from France, he came back a completely different man.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending.

1934, soon after Tommy's' battle had ended. Three more Shelby's' dead, and one less evil he had to worry about right now. His second wife, Lizzy Stark, was nowhere to be seen and was never found. Neither was his son, Charles. After the alleged affair with Diana Mosley, she left Tommy behind. As he did with the rest of his family.

So, where was he now?

Ireland. Finding himself knocking at the door of the home he knew she resided in. The sun was barely breaking through the forever gloom of the grey clouds, he shoved his hands in his pockets as he turns around, looking at the green grassy hill, cattle grazing the lawns minding their own.

"Who are you?" The voice came from behind him. Tommy moved his body, eyes snapping down in front of him to see a young girl. Around the age of four or five, standing in the threshold of the doorway. Her head was slightly tilted, as she peered up at him with her big eyes. Tommy tried to find the words, as he was speechless. She looked almost identical to Charles.

"I...I am um..." He began to speak, but footsteps cut him off and made him look up again. The front door was pulled open.

And then she appeared. His last breath got caught in his throat when his eyes fell on her. She looked even more beautiful than the day he saw her. The day she left and the day he found her, all those months later. Seeing her up close again, made him feel like he was frozen. His mind was buzzing with a myriad of questions, apologies, excuses. She wore a house dress, her hair was pulled into a bun, pieces of hair framing her slim face.

"[Name]," Tommy said. His voice made her eyes quickly snap up from the young girl to him. She froze for a moment as she saw who was waiting for her. She never thought she would see THE Thomas Shelby...ever again. Everything else seemed to disappear when she locked eyes with him.

"Mummy...who is this?" The girl pulled on her mothers dress, breaking the silence.

[Name] managed to break her eyes away first to see her daughter, Maeve, looking between the two adults in confusion.

"Darling...this is an old friend...Tommy Shelby,"

Old Friend was an odd way to put it. Knowing they were nowhere near that title, it made Tommy chuckle a bit. But the label would do for now. The young girl nods once and smiled up at the tall man.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Shelby," Maeve spoke before turning to her mother.

"You as well, darling," Tommy managed a small smile. [Name] cleared her throat and kneeled down a bit to talk to Maeve.

"Maeve, can you be a big girl and go check on Cian for me? make sure he's still asleep," She suggested, knowing that she didn't want the children to be around while she talked with Tommy. The girl nods with determination, exiting the area and down the hall. [Name] takes a deep breath and moves away from the door.

"Come in,"

The inside of the Byrne estate was large, clean, and full of light. Nothing compared to what Tommy had at Arrow house, but it somehow had the same comfort. The two sat across from each other at the dining table. Tommy would tell it was well crafted and made from the hands of the Tall brunette man he saw before. Neither Tommy nor [name] knew what to say to each other. It felt like hours had passed as they were locked in each others gaze.

"You found me..." She stated.

"I did...I came looking for you, everywhere...Turing to every connection I had...I had to find you [name], " He answered her, not bothered how desperate he sounded.

Because deep down he knew he was.

"Why now?" She questioned. "After all these years,"

"I wanted to apologize, for everything I had done and put you through...I'm sorry for lying, for the things that I left out, for leaving you...everything. You deserved to know, more than anyone," Thomas answered, his words rang in your ears, holding as much sincerity as they can.

The woman across from him nods, her face didn't change as she stared at him. Her glaze bouncing from his eyes to his lips to the worn hands he placed on the table.

"I had wished you well and vouched to never lay my eyes on you again, yet here you are apologizing to me again...You sure made a name for yourself Tommy," She commented, a small smile forming on her face. She couldn't lie, she was proud of him. "It wasn't uncommon around here, my late husband would speak of it every now and then, I would have to pretend like I didn't know who you were,"

"Late husband?...my condolences,"

[Name] nods once and held her hand up for a moment to stop him from going on further.

"He passed just last year, consumption...Maeve was only four and Cian was barely a year," She informed him, a lump caught in her throat and a gloss in her eyes. A knowing look formed on Tommy's features, he would know all about loss.

Greta, Grace, John, Polly, and Ruby.

"Do you have anyone for yourself now?" She asked, changing her subject.

"I did...remember Lizzie Stark?"

[Name] nods, and refrained from rolling her eyes. After she had exposed Tommy for who he really was, she found out about his secret relationship with his assistant. Leaving her spiraling under the realization that again, he chose another woman that wasn't her.

"We got married and had a daughter, Ruby...she's gone now, also consumption, after everything had happened, Lizzie took Charles and left,"

Silence had fallen between them, but it wasn't daunting...it was comfortable. She didn't know what else to say...what else could she really say? She looked at the dining table, her nail slightly digging into its' surface while Thomas held his gaze on her for a moment, admiring her beauty and how, even now, she still looked as youthful as ever. He ultimately made the decision to break the silence between them.

"I don't want to waste any more of your time...Just know what I am still sorry," He said to her, shifting as he felt the heartbreak hit him and standing from the dining table. She said nothing as she heard his chair scrape against the floor, and his footsteps leading him to the foyer. An inch away from grabbing the door handle before he caught her voice calling for him.

"Tommy wait!"

He quickly turned around. Their hearts pounding as she stood in front of him. She looked like she wanted to spill something to him. Tell him everything that she had held away. Her eyes searched his until he asked a simple: 'what is it?' in a breathy tone. Her lips quivered as she tried to find the words. For once, she was speechless in front of him.

"Maeve...she's not..." [name] started. She took a deep breath and Thomas found himself holding her shaking hands in his. She swallows and nods once as he looks into her eyes. 'Breathe'.

"My husband, Andrew, he didn't know...For Christ sake I tried to keep it from him all these years and after he passed, I feel guilty even now...but, Maeve she's not his...she's yours Tommy," Tears pricked her eyes. Tommy stared with wide eyes. He couldn't question her, the time added up, he saw what her late husband looked like and he saw what her daughter looked like. He could recognize those ice-like eyes anywhere. Licking his dry lips, he sighs heavily.

"I know..." He mumbled. "I could see the Shelby resemblance in her when I saw her...I didn't want to believe it at first...but after looking at her again, I saw it,"

She wanted to call an objection to his words but decided to keep her mouth shut, knowing that the Shelby's liked to keep their pride.

Even if it was an exaggeration.

Silence fell between them once again. Tommy steps closer, grabbing one of [names] hands. His hands were ice hold and hers were warm like the flames that roared in the fireplace.

"I'd like to see you again, [Name]" He told her, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips.

"There is a lot of catching up that we need to do...," She looked down at their intertwined hands. Thomas reaches for the woman's other hand. His gaze softened as he drew in closer, her lids closed slowly as his cold, cracked lips connected with her soft and plump lips. Her heart ignited, that small flame that slowly gave out when her husband passed suddenly blew up. Except this time, it was a different type of love. This version of Thomas Shelby was...new.

The woman tried to keep calm as the gangster pulled away from the kiss, afraid he wouldn't be able to stop once he got started.

"Very well then," Giddy on the inside as she kept her smile small.

"I'll see you tomorrow," He told her calmly, one hand rubbing up and down her arm before he took his leave.

The days and weeks to come, Tommy got along well with Maeve. The more the two got along, the more [Name] saw the resemblance. Cian was more attached to his mother by the hip, usually shadowing her until he was familiar enough with Thomas's presence. With the two in bed together one night, [Name] lifts her head as she felt Thomas digging through his nightstand.

"What are you doing?" She asked curiously as she tried to look in the drawer as well. Thomas held the object in his hand, closing his hand into a fist as he laid back down and looked at his beautiful girl.

"I found this, a few months ago...before I came to see you," He started. "Everything else was destroyed, but I kept this because I knew I would find you again one day, and give it to you..."

"Come on, Tommy what is it?" She asked, sitting up on her knees, trying to reach for his hand. He pulled his hand away and gave her a look. 'Wait' It said.

"No matter what happened between us, I knew I would come back to you, even after all these years...all of this pain...it has always been you...I'm so sorry it took me all this time to realize it," He told her. He grabbed her hand with his free hand and slipped the gold ring on her finger. It still fight like a glove, maybe even more-so now. In awe, she watched as he slipped the ring on her finger. It was cold on her warm skin, causing goosebumps to form on her arms.

"Thomas...?" She gasped. Looking at him, then at the ring, then at him again as her eyes were wide, tears forming in her eyes.

"[Name]…will you do me the honor of marrying me?" He asked. It made her think back to their childhood and that promise they made for each other.

"Oh Thomas...yes," She nods happily. Not hesitating to jump into his arms and kiss him like there was no tomorrow.

"I've loved you from the start,"

---

[Tag List]

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @milljane @cyphah @diosa-ahre-blog @badlandsbrunette @adaydreamaway08 @namelessghoul0 @deltamoon666 @cherryslyce @calmingmelody96 @bruher @galactict3a @soulmates8 @angelofdarkness2468

[gingiesworld]

Rough (Kinktober)

Maria Hill x GN! Reader

Warning: Smut. Amab! Reader. Hair pulling. Office sex. Dom reader. Sub Maria.

Taglist: @bababaka @natashaswife4125

18+ MINORS DNI

The journey back to HQ was silent. The team knew that Agent Hill, the agent who was in charge of the mission was not in a good place, especially with it being her mission that turned into a farce.

"Y/L/N, my office. Now." She ordered them once they had reached HQ. Y/N could only follow her as they knew that Agent Hill wasn't a woman to be kept waiting. The moment Y/N had closed the door behind them, Maria started to state every wrong move that Y/N had made, bare in mind they are only a Lvl 5 Agent themselves. "Do you have any idea the rammifications of your actions! You almost jeopardised the whole operation!"

"I." Y/N tried to explain themselves before Maria cut them off.

"You almost got your teammates killed!!" Maria yelled at them. "And now I have a hefty report to write because of your insolence!"

"The agents would have died if I hadn't had stepped out of line!" Y/N finally yelled over her, she just watched them like a hawk as they spoke. "So I did what I deemed right to save my teammates. Ones who can now go home to their families! So do tell me Maria." Y/N stepped closer to her, watching as she backed with every step. "Would you have done same if it were you in my shoes?"

"I would have waited for my orders." She told them, hoping to sound confident.

"If I had done that, we would all be dead." They whispered as they had her pressed against the wall. Her breathing erratic at the closeness between their bodies. "And guess what, I would do it again."

"You shouldn't disobey orders." Maria told them weakly as their hands held her hips firmly as they leaned their face into hers.

"Like I said, I would do it again if it meant saving my team." They bit her earlobe, causing her legs to almost give out. "Now, I am taking what's mine." With that, they kissed her roughly, moaning as their tongue pushed passed her slightly parted lips. Her hands gripped onto their shirt as the kiss deepened and the pleasure started to intensify.

"Fuck." Maria whispered as Y/N sucked and bit her neck before they forced her to her knees. Smirking at the lust in their superior's eyes.

"You are going to put that pretty mouth to good use." Y/N pulled on her hair making her moan, a smirk gracing their lips as she unbuckled their belt and removed their trousers and boxers. "Good girl." Y/N husked as she kissed their tip before taking their length in her mouth, using one of her hands to massage their balls as they tightened their grip in her hair. Maria loved being used roughly, especially by Y/N who practically fucked her face hard. Panting and moaning before they pulled out of her mouth. "Bend over the desk." They ordered her, smirking as she did as they ordered, removing her own clothes as Y/N stood behind her. Moving two fingers through her soaked folds which made her let out a gutteral moan as they penetrated her. Pulling her hair as they railed her from behind.

The cold desk was something that added to her pleasure as she was being used, her hardened nipples scraping against the wood with each movement made. Her face was soon pushed into the desk which she just moaned. Loving the rough love she was recieving before Y/N decided to pull her by her hair until her back was flush against their front as they continued to pound into her dripping cunt.

"I am going to cum inside your puffy cunt and you are going to take it all." They snarled in her ear, all she could do was nod frantically as they went faster and harder. Once the two had came with a loud moan of the other's name, neither had realised that the door was left unlocked.

"I guess I can come back later then." The Black Widow said, shock written all over her face as she never expected to see her best friend become a cum slut.

[sexualtensiongrowing21]

Prompt: “Just a while longer.” // Stiles Stilinski x reader

Trigger Warnings // None?

I got home from the hospital this morning. Five days of being stuck there and I was finally home. Scott and Isaac haven't left me alone since they helped me lay down on my bed.

“You don't have to babysit me. I'm fine, really.” I flash a smile their way.

“Y/N, you were attacked by an alpha. We could have lost you.” I grimace. I had snuck into the abandoned bank with Allison to try and help the boys. Before Ennis fell with Derek he had thrown me into a wall. The next thing I knew I was in the hospital and Derek was dead.

“Yes, but I'm okay. I promise. I'm not going anywhere. Now please. Leave me alone. I need to shower and I don't think either of you want to be here while I change.” Scott makes a face of disgust while Isaac raises his eyes in thought. He clears his throat “Well, I mean if you’re offering…” He smiles while my brother grabs him by the shoulder and makes him follow him out of the room.

I get up slowly and walk to the bathroom. Turning on the water as hot as it will go I let it run while I undress. New scares litter my body. Across my collar bone, nail marks along my wrists, scratches down my thighs. A completely different person stares back at me from a year ago. Before I knew of werewolves and there were no crazy darachs trying to sacrifice anyone. Sighing, I step into the shower.

I wrap a towel around myself as I step out of the bathroom into my room. I come to a stop when I see Stiles on my bed. He stands quickly once he finally notices me.

“Uh- Scott let me in. Said you got home this morning.” I look at him. He looks awful, like he hasn't slept in days.

“I did.” As if just realizing I am only in a towel his face reddens and he turns around while covering his eyes. A small laugh escapes my lips as I grab my brother's Beacon Hills lacrosse t-shirt and some shorts. Once I am dressed I make my way to the bed grabbing Stiles hands and pulling him to sit with me on the bed.

He is examining my face closely as if trying to memorize all my features. He places his hand on the side of my face and leans his forehead to mine. “I thought I lost you.” He says barely above a whisper “Never.” I said, closing my eyes and meeting his lips with mine.

We are cuddling under the blankets watching Twilight when I finally have the nerve to ask him the question that's been on my mind since I woke up in the hospital five days ago.

“Why didn't you come and see me?” I pause, moving in his arms so that I am facing him. He closes his eyes with a pained expression.

“I was there.” he swallows. “But I couldn't bring myself to go into your room.” I furrow my brows in confusion. “What? Why?” He won't look at me so I bring my hands to his face so that I can see his eyes. I always get lost in his honey brown eyes.

“I was supposed to protect you. But when I looked around you were gone. You had left and I didnt notice.” a single tear escapes his eye. “If I wasn't so distracted I could have stopped you and you wouldn't be hurt.” He puts his hands on top of mine and pulls them from his face to intertwine his fingers with mine.

A pang of guilt hits my heart. “Oh Stiles, it's not your fault. I knew you would try and stop me.” I squeeze his hands. “I promise I will always tell you when I'm leaving, but just know I will always try and help. No matter what. I can't lose my brother.” he slowly nods his head. “I know.. I was just scared. You mean so much to me Y/N.” I smile and lean over and kiss him which he returns.

After the movie was over I had fallen asleep and started to wake up to the feeling of Stiles trying to get out of bed. “Stay.” I mumble sleepily. “It's late. Scott wouldn't be happy if I stayed the night.” Reaching around the bed with my eyes closed I find his chest and push him down to me. I place my head back on his chest. “Just a while longer, I sleep better when you're here.”

He finally gives in and his arm comes to wrap around my back. He kisses the top of my head. “Fine. Only for you.”

Just before I am about to fall asleep again I whisper. “ I love you, Stiles Stilinski.”

[starry-crossing-zone]

The Medic - Echo (TBB)

Summary: Before the Citadel, Echo fell in love with the 501st civilian medic. After he's rescued, Echo tries to not think about her and what she's doing. But the Force has other plans. Length: 2056 words Warnings: Unnamed Female Medic (Can Read as Reader or OC), Canon Angst, Body Dysmorphia (Echo)

Part 2

Echo remembered everything about her. The way that her hand fit into his own as they laid together in her bed after a long campaign. He remembered the exact weight of her as she slept against his chest. The distinct way that her eyes always crinkled with joy whenever she spotted him among his brothers. 

He remembered all of it. All of her. But at some point he had to wonder if it was masochistic to keep thinking about her. 

She thought he was dead. And that was so long ago now. And a woman like her? There was no way that she wouldn’t move on. She was beautiful. She was smart. She was talented. There was no way that she was still waiting for him to come home. And why should she? Echo stared down at his scomp as his memories continued to whirl around his head. 

“Echo?” Omega called softly, breaking Echo out of his thoughts. 

“Hmm?” Echo hummed, turning to face Omega. 

“Are you alright?”

“Of course, I am. Why do you ask?”

“You looked upset,” Omega observed, causing Hunter to glance worriedly in their direction. “What were you thinking about?”

“Omega,” Hunter started to warn her, but Echo shook his head. 

“It’s alright, Hunter.” Turning back to Omega, Echo cleared his throat as he tried to come up with an explanation. “I was thinking about an old . . . friend of mine.”

“How did you know them?” Omega asked curiously.

“She was a medic for my old squad.”

“She?” Omega repeated, taking a few steps closer to Echo as she studied his expression. “There were civilians with you?”

“She was one of the few,” Echo replied softly. “And one that I miss. A lot.”

“We should look for her!” Omega suggested with a beaming smile, but Echo shook his head. 

“Any involvement with us would only endanger her. And besides, I’m pretty sure that she still thinks that I’m dead.”

“You never told her that you were alive?” Omega asked, sounding taken aback. 

“I didn’t have a chance. She left the GAR after the Citadel mission, according to Rex. And then I left with this team after I was rescued. There wasn’t much time after that to track her down.”

“I’m sorry, Echo,” Omega replied quietly, causing Echo to nod. “I’m sure she misses you.”

“Yeah,” Echo returned, though his voice lacked conviction. 

Echo got up from his seat and walked deeper into the Marauder. Omega watched him disappear into a separate room before turning to Hunter for further explanation. But Hunter merely shook his head in return, nonverbally telling Omega to drop it. 

*~*~*~*

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to see,” Rex stated, gesturing for Echo to follow him further up the hill. 

“Where are we?” Echo asked, frowning as he walked behind Rex. 

“Just a small pit stop.”

Echo continued to frown, but didn’t comment further. Once they reached the crest of the hill, Echo spotted a farm with a few huts scattered along the dirt road and a large barn adjacent to the dense forest. Rex strode over to the barn, where some light spilled out from the cracks in the door. Rex typed in a code and opened the door, revealing a large group of clones. 

It reminded Echo of the barracks from the war. Brothers were spread out around the barn, some still dressed in their plastoid armor, but most were in some mix of civilian clothes. Rex greeted the brothers that they passed and Echo nodded to them, but did not say or do much else. 

“So, this is where the operation is headquartered?” Echo asked, causing Rex to shake his head.

“No, just a small offshoot. Mostly for the brothers who want to disappear into the galaxy. Those who are ready to put the war behind them,” Rex explained to Echo, who glanced around the barn again curiously.

“Then why are we here?” 

“There’s someone here that I want you to see,” Rex replied, causing Echo to raise an eyebrow. 

“Who?”

“You’ll see.” 

Rex walked around a set of metal shelves, stacked with farm tools and fertilizer, but also medical supplies and other boxes. In the dim lighting, Echo quickly spotted the medical table under a brighter spotlight. An injured trooper sat on the table as the woman in front of him wrapped his bicep with a bandage.

“That should do it,” the woman stated, pinning the bandage in place. “You’ll be good as new in about two rotations.”

Echo froze at the familiar sound of her voice. And the closer that he looked, the more familiar that she got. Her hair was shorter now and she was no longer wearing her GAR uniform, but when she turned around, her eyes were just as he remembered all of those cold nights on Skako Minor. 

“Cyare?” Echo whispered, almost as a reflex. 

“Echo?” she returned, sounding just as surprised as he did. 

Rex nudged Echo in the shoulder before helping the injured trooper over to where the rations were kept, leaving the former couple alone for the first time in years. Echo stood frozen and rigid, not unlike a droid would, as she slowly stepped towards him, coming out of her own shock before him. Her eyes searched his face as the familiar warm smile fell over her lips. Echo was still frozen in time, but not frozen enough to miss the subtle tears building in her eyes. 

“You’re here,” she whispered out breathlessly. 

You’re alive, is probably what she meant to say. 

“Most of me, anyways,” Echo returned quietly, moving his mechanical arm behind his back a bit. Looking at the floor for a moment, Echo slowly returned his gaze to her, a bit sheepishly. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Over two years,” she returned sadly. 

“I’m sorry,” Echo replied, but she shook her head in return. 

“What are you apologizing for? You didn’t ask for . . .” Her eyes fell to his mechanical arm and headband before meeting his eyes again, “. . . what happened.” A silence fell between them before she continued, “I’m just happy that you’re alive. And free. That’s all that matters.”

Echo nodded slowly, his face dropping as he felt the warmth and kindness radiating off of her that he wasn’t sure he deserved after everything that he put her through. 

“What did they tell you?” Echo asked, his voice deeper than usual. 

“Fives told me about what happened at the Citadel. Most of it, anyways,” she replied softly, fiddling with her fingers nervously. “And he gave me the letter that you wrote.” Echo nodded painfully, remembering every last word that he wrote right after they got their orders. “But then I left the GAR about a month after and that was the last time that I tried to think about it.”

“Why?” Echo asked quietly, causing her to pick her head up. “Why did you leave the GAR?”

“It was . . . too emotional,” you returned softly. “I was too emotional. It was just easier to leave and start over.”

“When I told you to not be afraid to move on,” Echo spoke softly, causing her to wince and look up at him through her eyelashes, “you didn’t have to change your whole career around. You were integral to the battalion.”

“It’s alright. I found my calling elsewhere. I worked at a clinic on Coruscant for a while. Fives would visit me a lot.” She trailed off for a moment at the mention of the fallen trooper before snapping back to the present. “But after . . . I had enough of Coruscant. Of the Republic, even. So, I fled here. It was just a fledgling refugee camp at the time but we built it up. And now, we’re nearly self-sufficient. It worked out in the end.”

“I’m glad that it did,” Echo replied honestly, looking around the barn again. “But how did you get involved in this operation then? After you left the GAR and everything.”

“Rex found me. He asked for help and I wasn’t about to tell him that I couldn’t.”

“You’re taking a huge risk,” Echo warned her, causing her to pause for a moment. “If the Empire finds out about this operation . . .” He trailed off, that old concerned look that he got right before every battle coming over his face, “. . . it’s dangerous.”

“Existing in this galaxy is dangerous right now,” she pointed out, a bit firmly. “And if there’s something that I can do to help, I’m going to do it. Especially for your brothers.” 

Echo nodded, not arguing with her on that point. After all, he knew that he would lose. Every time that he told her to be careful or let someone else pull off the riskier part of a mission, she always went ahead and did it anyway. She never pulled back from a difficult mission and Echo wasn’t shocked to see that she hadn’t changed. 

“Thank you,” Echo replied quietly. 

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” she responded softly. “For any of it.” 

They stared at each other for a long moment, a wordless exchange of emotions passing between them. Echo spotted the conflict in her gaze, the way that she twitched a bit and looked grief stricken in a way that he knew meant that she felt guilty. And he had an idea about what caused it. That didn’t stop his stomach from flipping uncomfortably. 

“And you don’t have to explain anything to me,” Echo returned, causing her to frown with a bit of confusion. “I knew it probably happened anyways.” 

“You did?” she breathed out, pressing a hand nervously to her chest. 

“I told you to move on,” Echo pointed out, causing her expression to quickly change. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about that.” 

“Echo, that’s not what I meant,” she replied, her expression growing more serious. 

“Then what did you mean?” Echo asked, now confused. 

She hesitated for a moment, struggling to find the words, when the sound of footsteps caused them to turn. Rex, Gregor, and Fireball walked over to them, all suited up and ready for the next mission. Echo straightened up subconsciously and she quickly turned away, knowing that the moment was now gone. 

“Ready to ship out?” Gregor cackled, punching Echo on the arm. 

Rex appeared apologetic as he glanced between them, but Echo waved off his concern. Gregor and Fireball walked off to ready the ship while Echo turned back to her. She offered him a small, encouraging smile and a nod. 

“Good luck.” 

“Thank you,” Echo returned, nodding curtly. 

The two of them shared one last longing look before Echo forced himself to turn around and catch up with Gregor and Fireball. Rex watched Echo walk off before turning back to her, to find that she was still staring after Echo. 

“Did you tell him?” Rex asked her quietly. 

“No, not yet.” Looking to the floor, she let out a shaky breath. “I’m worried about how he would react to the news after everything that he’s been through.” Turning back to Rex, she straightened up. “But I will tell him. Soon. He deserves to know.”

Rex nodded, shot her a small, encouraging smile, before walking off to join his brothers. She stood there for a moment, lost in her thoughts, before her comm went off. Knowing what that meant, she headed out of the barn and to her speeder. 

Driving down the dirt road for about three minutes, she came up to her hut. Parking the speeder outside her hut, she slid off and headed inside after typing in the code. Heading into the room that faced the sunrise, she moved to relieve her droid. 

“Thank you, NAN. You can go recharge,” she suggested, gesturing to the charging port. 

“Thank you, Mistress.” 

The droid walked off. Walking over to the large wooden crib along the wall, she leaned over and smiled at the sight. Her two identical boys were curled up against each other, both looking up at her with wide honey brown eyes that they got from their father. Running her hand through their hair, she clucked her tongue as they babbled.

“You two drained your nanny droid. Again,” she teased her sons, pressing her finger gently against their chubby cheeks. “You’re going to be little menaces when you’re grown, aren’t you?” 

[alicelufenia]

Bagging the Hag's Hair: the Trickster Hero's Way

Auntie Ethel's hair: one of the best permanent buffs in the game, but aside from it being a dicey get on Honor mode, it can be a hard sell to roleplayers who don't want their upstanding hero to make a deal with one of the most evil funniest antagonists in the game. Sure, you can save Mayrina and force her to give you the hair, but what about all the other captives in her lair? With the hag still alive, trying to save them is more likely to kill them in the process.

But with a bit of finesse (and maybe putting the Ethel fight off to AFTER level 4 at least, especially in honor mode) you can not only convince Ethel to give up the hair and Mayrina, but literally backstab her immediately after, leaving her foiled by her tendency to monologue. It's a heist worthy of even the most Good-aligned characters. I could easily see Wyll using this trick, pulling a fast one on the fae, proving himself both moral AND cunning. (Plus, it's a nice palette cleanser if you just got done wiping out the grove while managing to keep the two good-aligned companions with you).

This one's for you, Karlach!

First of all, I assume you're doing your best to pass either the Intimidation or Deception check to convince Ethel to surrender Mayrina. Otherwise why are you even bothering with this?

Anyway, you want to reach this dialogue and then STOP.

Then, switch to the party member you kept out of combat with the hag.

This is important, as if they're entered into combat, they'll be confined to this cutscene along with everyone else (notice the speech bubbles next to the rest of the party). This is the trickiest part, as without a party limit extender mod, it's a big ask to go into the hag fight with just 3 characters (why I recommend taking her on a little later, but you can totally do it before getting into act 2).

If they're not in combat, upon swapping to them, you'll get the Reward Select screen for the hair, but everyone else will still be in the cutscene. If you want a guaranteed way to keep them out of the fight should it get dicey (with lots of Ethel clones everywhere taking up potential hiding space with their vision cones) you can try keeping the one party member outside the arena, at the top of the trap hill past the waterfall, and then just use Feather Fall (any source of it) to jump past all the traps down to the fight arena.

This is important (and a good reason to get her hp as low as possible, not just beneath the threshold of 30 needed to trigger her bargaining). You have to reduce her hp to 0 in one shot. That means the damage has to be dealt all at once (no pause for reactions like sneak attack or divine smite, you want to use those sort of moves directly from the hotbar rather than triggered on reaction). If you don't kill her in one shot, that character will be pulled into the cutscene as well, and your chance will pass.

If you succeed though, she will disappear and the cutscene will immediately proceed (I missed the chance to get a screenshot of the damage dealt, but it was over 25 so more than enough). There won't be a body to loot.

But, because she's been flagged as dead, all the hag's living prisoners can be freed (also shoutout to act 1 Minthara. Sorry you got the wrong impression of me with the whole killing the grove thing, this is also who I am. I contain multitudes).

Other than the mask bearers, I think I feel the sorriest for this guy, tormented by the worst visions of the future for "he's-an-elf-so-could-have-been-centuries" time. Unfortunately I killed all the mask bearers in my run, but if you can knock them out, and the game isn't bullshit about it, they should be safe to remove the masks without them dying.

One lice-ridden hair clump and suspicious potion later (thanks Astarion! Your role in the playthrough is now done!) and I have 20 strength with no ASIs. Perfect :D

Tricking the Hag to give up her hair and still killing her anyway = success!

[gabriel-xander]

I Wish You Died Instead Ch. 4

[Scaramouce x Fem!Reader]

A/N: I started writing this before all of his lore came out/Before the last Sumeru Archon quest, so there will be a handful of inconsistency later on. My advice to you? Just go with it!

{Also on Quotev, Ao3, and Wattpad under Gabriel Xander}

Chapter 4: You are an Embarrassment

The trip was a bit awkward in your opinion. Not once have you had to endure Scaramouche's company alone. Never had he allowed an expedition with less than five subordinates (NOT including yourself) with him, let alone just you.

You two matched in terms of immediate attire: long, thick coats that reached to your calves, the seams lined with thick fur. Neither of you had your hoods up, in your boss' case, it was because he was wearing his big ass hat. Your fatui mask was getting uncomfortably cold against your face.

It was silent the entire trip, minus the few, quiet swears from the cold, and frustrated grumbling from you as you took this time to review new reports.

The budget from a recent mission you had was smaller than you expected, so you were trying to do the math quietly. You were trying to determine how much of a percentage raise you'd need to include for next time. Your usual deployment was a consistency of five different Skirmishers and two Mirror Maidens.

Including yourself, that's eight mouths to feed, eight wardrobes to prepare, eight bodies to equip weapons to, eight people to provide efficient funds to-

"Oh!"

You cheer suddenly as you scribble on the paper with lead. It's a material that had originated from Fontaine: a thin, wooden stink with black graphite in the center. It was a lot more convenient than inks and brushes.

You hope you're actually writing though, night had just arrived so it was hard to see what you're writing.

You continue to babble out loud without realizing: "I just need to add 13%, then an additional 20% for the send-off fee-"

"-Shut up."

"You shut up."

…

…

Wait.

FUCK!

The materials from your hands disappear into the aether as you frantically wave your hands in defense, stepping away from the pissed off Scaramouche.

"WH-I-I DIDN'T MEAN IT! I-I AM SO SORRY, MY LORD! I-IT'S A HORRIBLE HABIT I HAVE WITH MY COMRA-"

"-You're dead."

"I'M SORRRYYYYY."

You don't waste a fucking second before you're running the fuck away. Lucky for you, you've done more traveling in Snezhnaya than Scaramouche has. Running in the thick snow was a breeze for you as you had learned the hard way on how to tread these lands.

Scaramouche on the other hand…

"Get back here right now!"

The poor dude was stumbling in the cold with uneven footing that helped the winds push him around. You think you can fire not too far-

"OW!!"

Hot, white pain shoots up your spine, causing you to drop to your knees. You look back at the Balladeer with so much judgement in your eyes.

"DID YOU JUST FUCKING ZAP ME!?!?"

"Get the fuck over here!"

"Not until you calm down!!"

You scramble back to your feet only to get fucking tackled by the damn Harbinger. Unfortunately, neither you nor Scaramouche realized that you were right by a cliff; you both fell over and rolled down the snow.

Instinctively wanting to protect the Harbinger at all cost (despite the fact he wants to kill you), you hug him tightly to your body while forcing your shoulders back into the snow. The friction does little good to slow you down, but it keeps you two from rolling like dumb-asses.

And all too sudden, your body hits a particularly sharp rock. It does manage to stop you and Scaramouche, but you also feel it pierce through your thick coat.

You survived, but at what cost?

You won the battle, but lost the war.

Your entire backside is unbearably cold, and you think you can feel blood beginning to seep from where the rock is jabbing.

You relax your arms from Scaramouche, panic that he's not moving (but he is breathing slightly fast). You noticed his hat had fallen off, but it was okay since you could see it slowly slide down the hill, bumping against your feet.

Shit. Your mask is gone too.

But first things first…

You awkwardly tap his arm, "Are you oka-"

"-Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

You tilt your head back into the snow to see who the fuck it was. It was 3 men with heavy coats. There was a brunette with blue eyes with a bandanna covering the lower half of his face.

The other two had black hair and looked almost identical, most likely twins. The only difference was their eyes: one had light green eyes, the other had a heterochromia of light green, and medium brown.

You chuckle nervously, "Ah-ha, hi there. Um… we kind of… fell."

"We saw." The heterochromia eyed man grins, "Funny shit."

"Well… that's just embarrassing, huh?" Scaramouche chuckles weakly.

You wince when he pushes himself off you, a small smile gracing his features. You know that face and tone: it's "nice" Scaramouche. The facade he uses around those who are not to know you're Fatui.

As you sit up, you check Scaramouche for any injuries. It amuses you how he tenses up at the attention, he has to keep the act up and not pimp slap you in front of these people. You sigh in relief when nothing seems to be wrong, already brushing the snow off the Harbinger

"At least it's just these nice folks, and not some stupid hilichurls." You said softly, noting the Balladeer's fists are clenched on his lap.

"The hell are you two doing out here?" The brunette furrows his eyebrows, "The nearest town isn't for miles, and I doubt you're dumb enough to take a romantic stroll in this weather."

"Actually, we-ACHOO!!"

Oh so violently, you sneeze into the crook of your elbow. You groan quietly as you and Scaramouche stand up from the snow.

"Ugh, excuse me," You chuckle humorlessly.

Scaramouche takes a few steps away to take his hat that's getting buried in the snow.

"We should get going now," Scaramouche says, "You're going to get sick at this rate, and I-"

"-Well, why don't you two rest with us for tonight?" The twin with green eyes offer with a smile, "There's actually going to be a rough storm in-"

As if the Gods themselves were timing it, lightning strikes in the far distance. A light drizzle begins to settle.

"-Right now, actually." The man continues, "I'd feel really guilty if we just let you continue like this when you're getting sick."

You tense up and shake your head, "Oh, no! That's not-I-I mean, I don't want to impose! Plus, your friends might not-"

"-It's fine," The brunette shakes his head, "It's just until the storm clears up."

The twins nod simultaneously.

"It's not a problem at all."

"It's no problem."

"Hm… Okay," Scaramouche sighs, "Sorry for the intrusion."

"Sorry f-ACHOO!!"

Damn, you're embarrassing yourself.

"Oh!" The twin with green eyes pipes up with a grin as he gestures towards himself, "My name is Ivan, and this is my brother Isaac!"

You all look at the brunette with blue eyes who had the bandana still covering half his face.

"...I'm Noah."

You laugh lightly as you begin walking first, "It's nice to meet you all! You can call me [Y/n]!"

Scaramouche refrains the urge to frown, "Call me Kunikuzushi."

Kunikuzushi? How did he come up with that name so quickly? And you noticed the way he presented that name: he was talking to ALL of you. Letting you know that you're supposed to call him that, as well.

"Kunikuzushi?" Noah scoffs under his breath as he leads you to their camp, "That doesn't sound like a local name."

"I'm a vagrant from Inazuma," The Harbinger flawlessly lies, "It's certainly colder here, that's for sure."

"So," You scrunch up your nose as you feel another sneeze coming, your voice quickly rising in pitch as you talk faster with every passing word, "What are you aLL DOING OUTINTHISWEATH-ACHOO!!"

Smooth.

Ivan laughs at your misery, "We're just traveling. When we noticed the storm, we decided to stop for tonight."

You smile in gratitude, "Well, thank you for the hospitality."

----

"My Lord."

"What."

"I am… so sorry."

Ivan, Isaac, and Noah are inside their huge ass tent to get you and Scaramouche thicker blankets, something hot for you to eat, and medicine. You and the Balladeer were sitting by the fire that was quickly dying out.

Well, if it weren't for Scaramouche that is. He was tending to it with a watchful eye on a log close to the fire. Occasionally, he'd zap the wood with his mysterious Electro ability, that he's capable of using without a Vision, to keep it hot. But there was a metal rod stuck in there, he mainly used that to tend the fire.

"Whatever. You're bound to say "shut up" by reflex now since you work for me." Scaramouche shrugs.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, "Huh? No, I'm not sorry for that."

The Harbinger snaps, "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry for getting-ACHOO!... Sick." You groan, completely ignoring his previous offense, "And for um… getting us knocked down that hill."

Scaramouche doesn't bother correcting you that it was actually HIM who knocked you both over.

"Gods, and I lost my mask. It's so unprofessional."

Scaramouche almost wants to say it's not a bad thing, that your face is a sight for sore eyes. But fuck that noise.

"On the bright side," You continue after sneezing again, "Noah is a good name. He's a member of the Treasure Hoarders we're after. I don't know about Ivan and Isaac, though."

Scaramouche stays silent for a while, so you assume the conversation is done.

You sink into the log you're sitting on, sighing into the thick fur coat you were given. It smells… like something. Maybe it's one of those guys' scent? Can't say you hate it, though. It's… it's actually pretty good and comforting.

"[L/n]."

"Hm?"

You haven't realized you closed your eyes, but you ain't about to open them. You're just basking in the coat.

Ah, you might fall asleep, you feel so tired and weak. Maybe it's because you failed to inform anyone of the wound on your side. You don't think it's bleeding anymore, but it's not even cleaned or wrapped.

"[L/n]."

"Yes, My Lord?" You repeat yourself.

"Sit back up," You can hear the eye-roll Scaramouche gives you, "You can rest after those morons come back with your food and crap."

You reluctantly open your eyes and sway in your spot, "Yes, sir."

"And don't call me that now. If they overhear you, it'll be hard explaining yourself."

"Yes, si-erm, Kunikuzushi."

"..."

"..."

"I just told you not to fall asleep."

Oh shit, you didn't realize you closed your eyes again.

"But I'm tiredddddd," You whine childishly, "And this coat is so warm and it smells good."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

You open your eyes to see Noah walking up to you, eyes colored in amusement. Noah still had that bandana covering his mouth, but you just know he's fucking smirking. He has a small blue bottle, spoon, bandages, gauze, and a large white bottle sitting all on top of a folded blanket.

"Ugh, please ignore that. That's so embarrassing," You sink in the coat to hide half your face, "I just-you know, I'm sick. I don't know what I'm talking about."

Noah shakes his head, "It's fine. I won't tease anymore. Move over, won't you?"

You do as you're asked, looking at Scaramouche with a pointed look. Keep an eye on Noah.

Noah places the blanket down on the ground near the fire. He then looks at you and tugs lightly at your coat.

"Take this off, let's clean that wound on your rib." He instructs.

"You… How do you know-"

"-I saw you bleed through your coat," Noah explains, "It wouldn't do anyone good if you died or got infected. And I wouldn't be able to sleep at night without a clear conscience."

You sigh through your nose and begin taking off the coat. You fold it onto the log on your side. You begin to unbutton the coat you had on previous, only for Noah to stop your hands with his.

"Uh, maybe wait until I leave," Noah clears his throat nervously, "Your boyfriend looks like he'll kill me. He can clean you up since your wound is pretty… uh… yeah."

Boyfriend??

Very nervously and very hesitantly, you look over to Scaramouche. He was fucking glaring at Noah for no reason. He was leaned over and everything, being very obvious with his glare.

You're about to deny that Scaramouche was anyone close to you, but you never get the chance to.

"Exactly, just give me 10 minutes," Scaramouche stands up and slowly stalks over, "You're not touching her."

… Hah?

Noah nods and gets up, waving before he walks over to the tent where Isaac and Ivan were in.

You blink owlishly, "Was… that necessary, Kunikuzushi?"

"You said so yourself that Noah is someone we have to watch out for." Scaramouche frowns, "As if I'd let my best ass-kisser get poisoned carelessly."

You roll your eyes, "Fine, okay. I'd prefer addressing my own wounds, anyway."

Scaramouche throws his head back, "HA! As if! Move over, I'll do it. I already said I would anyway."

"I-... O-Okay…" You resume stripping your coat with reluctance, "But… was going along as my boyfriend necessary, too?"

He deadpans at you as he sits next to you.

You shake your head: "Never mind. It's-really not important."

"No," Scaramouche mutters, "it's not."

[its-in-the-woods]

The Woman Who Couldn’t Die Part 8

master list

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7,

Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x Original Character 

Alternative Universe where I make things up cause I can only research so much

Synopsis: On her feet once more, Jade is on the move. A burnt outpost and some new shoes keep our duo moving.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: This is based on Fallout except typical horror as well as: Blo0d, G0re, Death, Bodily injury, mentions of SH, death, drugs use, soft!cooper, angst, slow burn, hurt/comfort, Dead dove,

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

*thank you to all who read and share, we are continuing are journey west

Jade was moving, sort of moving, it was more of a shuffle than actually walking. Her joints were a mess, ankles, knees, and hips all screaming at her to stop. They had torn up one of her spare shirts to make makeshift shoes, it wasn’t ideal but at least they provided some stability for her. With the regenerating monster just behind them, it wasn’t safe to stop. The Ghoul, Coop, had grabbed the bags so that she could focus on moving forward. They had taken apart the sled so she could use the two pieces of wood as makeshift crutches. Her companion had offered to give her another stimpak, but she had denied it. It was better to save it for when the sun went down. The way she was aching, she was doubtful she’d actually get any sleep. 

Despite the pain and slow movement, they had made some ground, as they came up over a hill she could make out the outline of a building. Most likely an outpost, what was concerning was the smoke that seemed to be wafting off the top of it. 

“Is that smoke?” She asks as they slowly make it down the hill. Her feet aching as she tensed to stop from sliding.

“Hard to tell,” The Ghoul said, gripping her arm when she almost tipped over. “If it is, we'll deal wit'it when we get ther'.”

“Us cowpokes take as we come,” Jade mumbles wincing as her foot steps on a small stone. 

“Somethin' like that,” He sighs, letting go of her hand, keeping his out in case she stumbles again. “See them small rocks, let’s stop ther'.”

“I can keep going, may take all night,” Jade tries to smile, but it comes out as a grimace, as she continues to walk forward. 

She was suddenly off her feet, letting out an undignified squawk as the Ghoul effortlessly carried her over to the outcrop of stones in half the time it would have taken her. Her arms wrapping around his neck, his arms cradling her back and under her knees. Lucy felt her stomach twist with butterflies at how easily he could pick her up. He got to the stones and carefully put her down. 

“Umm, thank you.” Jade flushes as she moves slightly trying to get comfortable. Her body sore from the exertion, the bruises may have started to fade, but her body still knew that a monster had landed on her head.   

Coop digs through her bags and grabs the stimpak, he comes over and hands it to her. “Take'it, I've got more Med-x.”

Jade sighs and shoots the stuff into her arm this time, the slight shot of adrenaline making her mouth fall open. Sitting for a moment, she lets the meds flood her blood, the stimpak dulling the ache in her joints. A buzzing feeling at her temples, it was the first time in the day she wasn’t in full body pain. Jade's body aching and twinging if she moves wrong, but it was better than before.

“I am fine, save the chems for when I am actually dying,” Jade tries to laugh it off, but the Ghoul is already handing her the meds. She glares at him, but he won’t meet her gaze. The man had been off the whole day like he was waiting for her to tip over dead. 

“I am not givin' ya options, Tiny. Take ya meds so we can make't to the outpost.” He says firmly, his hat covering his features. 

Jade doesn’t bother arguing, she’s exhausted and if the meds help her sleep so be it. Now slightly buzzed she relaxes against the stone, the man rifling through the bags and handing her a can of something. She shakes a few times, before opening it up. 

“Already cold,” Jade sighs, wishing they could build a fire to stay warm. She was positive that the stimpak made her feel colder, even when they were walking in full sun she felt a chilly feeling in her bones. 

Cooper comes over stripping off his duster, he slides down beside her draping it over both of them. She is surprised when he pulls her against him, his body is warm against hers. He pops his can of food open and eats it without saying anything. She’d take whatever comfort he felt like giving her, the buzz of the meds didn’t give her a lot of choices. Jade opens up her can, corn of some kind. She eats a few bites, the familiar nausea of meds making her stomach twist, she closes it after trying to eat a few more bites. 

“Don’tya like corn?” He drawls, trying to hand Jade his can. She waves it away, she was not interested in throwing up tonight. 

“No, the meds always upset my stomach,” Jade shifts, her stomach feeling bloated, she rubs at it trying to calm it down. Shifting back and forth trying to get comfortable against the rock face. 

The Ghoul is up and moving, Jade’s brows furrowing at the loss of heat he leaves behind. He is over in the field crouched down looking through the grass. The gas in Jade’s stomach making her wince, at least the pain was fading, maybe she’d be able to sleep tonight. She leans against the rock pulling the coat up under her chin. She could smell him, gun oil, something smokey, a deep musk, she hums quietly enjoying being surrounded by his smell. Her eyes closing a little, the only thing keeping her awake was the occasional sharp pain of gas in her side. 

She could hear her companion walking back to the makeshift camp, opening up her eyes more, she watches him squat down and pick through the bundle. It smelt like evergreen, something familiar to it, her Mom had always grown a bunch of different herbs on the farm. 

“What you got there?” Jade asks shifting a bit so her face wasn’t tucked against the jacket. 

“Mint,” The man said, handing her a couple of stems. Jade eagerly grabs some immediately chewing on the leaves, the cool flavor filling her mouth; the memory of eating leaves as a kid floating into her mind.

She groans leaning back against the rock, “Thank you, should help with my stomach.”

“I'll keep it on hand,” The Ghoul said, placing a few stems by his bag, before he came over to sit beside her. A pang of irritation washing over Jade when he didn’t shuffle next to her. 

Jade lifted the coat motioning for him to come closer, “Get in'er or I am liable to turn to stone overnight.”

Cooper huffs, but shuffles himself over tucking her against his side. “ Dontcha get'use ta this,” 

“You like it,” Jade teased her hands resting on his chest as she leaned against him. He tensed, and for a moment Jade wondered if he’d get up again and leave, but he didn’t. Instead, he moves so his hand is around her shoulders dragging the jacket up and across them both. 

***

Cooper’s eyes opened as soon as he heard birds, he hadn’t let himself fully sleep, but enough that he felt somewhat refreshed. Looking down at the young woman in his arms, she had stayed pressed against him the entire night. He had felt her heart and breath change as she fell asleep. Noting that this was the first time he hadn't heard her dream. He didn’t want to move in case he woke her. When had he developed a heart for anyone other than himself? His mind running over the past few weeks, she had definitely made things interesting. 

The image of just her hands hanging out off that creature made his heart pound. He had thought she was dead. Jade should be dead. Yet here she was curled up beside him, batter and bruised worse than when he had first met her. Still, she persisted, fighting him the whole way. He thought about the Enclave, she had spent time there. Was that why she was still alive? Did they give her something that made her able to endure all this?

His hand ran over her hair, it had mud, sticks, and other things. Despite all that, the scars and bruises. She was still the prettiest little thing he had seen in the Wastes. The rational part of him knew this was a dangerous path to take, that the girl would end up dead one day; Enclave serums or not. The worst out of all of it though, was that she could end up looking like him. The thought made his stomach turn, he had made peace with who he was. The fact he would one day he'd run out of chems and have to put a gun to his head. It didn’t mean he wanted to drag someone down that path with him.

She isn’t going to give you much of a choice 

The Ghoul scowled at that thought, damn brain had been quiet for a while now. Sans the mind-altering hallucinations, that could have been the woods. So why was it talking now?

“So what're you proposing?” The Ghoul said, to whoever was talking to him through his own damn rotten brain. It had never sounded like anyone he could remember, more like a distorted mix of several people. 

Take her with you. Best thing to happen to you in the Wastes.

He scowls some more looking over as the sunlight bounces off the field. "Just so I can watch her die?”

You don’t know that Cooper Howard

Hearing his own name, rattling around his brain made him want to throw things. “Yeah, I ama pretty certa'n everyone around me is dead Or grown old, and I'm still walkin'.”

The silence was deafening, his hand pulled his companion closer to him. “Sure go quiet now, damn piece of shit conscious. Fine. I will take her. But when she dies I am blaming you.”

His stomach was in knots and his free hand found his inhaler and he took a shot. The numbing feeling pushes any of the lingering voice away. The silence was a reassuring comfort that he wasn’t losing his mind. 

The girl tucked against his side moved. He was grateful that she hadn’t caught him talking to himself again. The last thing she needed was to be worrying about him. She yawns and blinks those big eyes at him, the green and gold mixes with brown making his heartache. 

“Mornin’,” She mutters, pushing herself up against the stone, moving her head back and forth, popping her neck. He can hear her heart speed up a little as she flexes all her joints, holding both her hands up bending the leftover fingers on her left hand, and then her right. 

“Did ya sleep okay?” He asks, sliding his hand back from where it rested, watching Jade closely as she runs her fingers over the missing digits. 

Jade nods, stretching some more, his eyes watching the way her skin moves in the morning light. Moving the jacket off her to flex her bandaged-covered feet, more pops but they were moving. 

“Wouldyah mind helping this gibbled lady up?” She asks, the Ghoul is up on his feet hand out to help her up.

He pulls her up, her hands soft in his as she stands up. She didn’t wobble too much, her feet more steady underneath her. Jade moves about the small area, sure-footed. He let go of her hand, as she strolls back and forth a few times. Wiggling her toes, and rolling her shoulders, it was the most comfortable she had looked since the ordeal. 

“Well I be damned, Tiny,” Cooper says, happy to see her moving with little to no pain. “Look at you moving on your own.”

Jade did a small jig, throwing her hands up and twirling a little. “I feel right as rain.” She moves over to him, green-streaked eyes watching his. “I have you to thank, Cooper, for keeping my ass alive.”

She was close to him now, no more than a breath in between them. He watches, his body frozen, as her hands come up to run over his shirt. Fingertips running over the bandoleer, tracing each bullet. Leaning up on tiptoes, hand on his chest covering his heart, she kisses him. His hands found her hips, resting against them, as he kissed her back. They both break the chaste kiss, Jade resting her head against his chest. 

“We should get going.” The Ghoul said, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. She didn't say anything, nodding and moving over to her bags. Grabbing her backpack she goes to slip in on, the Ghoul snatching it from her and his bag. She glares at him but follows without argument. 

***

The place wasn’t much, whoever had lit the fire had done a piss-poor job. Half the building was black but for the most part, but it still stood. Jade was happy the grass around it hadn’t gone up. Wouldn’t have been the first time a fire had ripped through what was left of the country. They both stood there looking around at the scene. Jade was a little anxious to go into the building, she had been able to walk there without many issues. But her feet were starting to hurt, the bandages weren’t exactly comfortable. She kept this to herself, she didn’t need Coop worrying about her more than he already was. 

Her hand came up and rubs at her lips, thinking about Cooper that morning. He hadn’t moved, didn’t run, even kissed her back. The thought made her cheeks feel hot. She knew she was pushing her luck, but she’d nearly died under a giant regenerating monster. The way Cooper talked about the thing was terrifying, something that couldn't die. Instead, it just rebuilt itself out of nothing. Even if things didn’t go anywhere if it just meant she got to cuddle up to him at night. It was better than anywhere she’d been since being chased off her farm. The safest she had been in a long time. She flexed her left hand, watching Cooper head toward the building.  

“Let’s go see if we can find you some proper footwear,” Coop said, strolling up to the building. The door was long gone, nothing but empty hinges hanging onto the frame. 

Jade follows cautiously, doing her best not to limp, even though she was positive there were blisters on the balls of her feet. Coming to the doorway she saw inside; it was a bloody mess, there were parts of bodies everywhere. It was hard to identify just how many bodies there might be, the smell was awful. Flies and other bugs circling the mess. 

“Dang, that’s gross,” Jade mutters as she steps around the pieces. “What would do this, then light the place on fire?”

The Ghoul looks around, eyes always scanning the area. “Probably people and the critters took care of the bodies.”

Jade grimaces as she digs around, finding two matching boots, being small meant most things fit. These were a little big but all things considering at least they were somewhat clean and blood-free. The Ghoul was going through drawers, and anything left standing. There wasn’t much, some cans, a few chems, but overall the place was mostly a bust. 

“Hopin' we’d find a little more,” Jade sighs, finding a somewhat clean ledge to sit on. She leans down to start unwraping her feet, Cooper coming toward her in a few strides. 

“Let’s do that outside,” He said quietly, ushering her out. He grabs the only standing chair and places it on the path, gesturing for her to sit. “Sit, let me.”

“I am more than capable of doing this myself,” Jade argued, but the Ghoul smacks her hand out of the way. 

“Don’t be stubborn.” He growls, eyes shielded by his hat. She sighs and lets him unwrap her feet. They still had a yellow hue to them but were less puffy. He set her feet down gently on the dirt, moving back inside he came out with a mostly intact pair of socks. He rolled them up her feet. Grabbing the bandages, he wraps them in a way that holds her ankles in place, before putting her feet into the new boots.

“Try not to cut these ones up.” Jade teases, the Ghoul looking up at her from under his hat, shaking his head.

“So shoulda just left the boots on?” The Ghoul muses, “Just left them dislocated?” 

Jade chuckles, wiggling her feet back and forth, “Suppose they aren’t too bad feet. Not like I can attach others to them.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen some of the stuff the Enclave has done. I don’t recommend it.” Cooper says standing up now that her boots were tied. “We should keep movin', whatever, whoever could still be hangin' around.”

Jade was up, the firm soles of the shoes made up for the fact her feet slid a bit. The blisters are not nearly as noticeable with the socks. She follows after Cooper, he still has her bag, and refuses to give it up when she asks. So she made do following him down the road continuing West. 

“You doin' okay for chems,” She asks, looping her arm into his, he looks down at her, but doesn’t pull away.

“If yah worried bout me goin' feral. Don’t. Long way before that.” He huffs out, Jade could feel him tensing, so she unwrapped her arm from his. A cold feeling spread across her chest at his bitterness. 

“Just wanted to know you were okay. Looking out for each other and all.” She stated, hoping to soothe whatever she had done wrong. 

The Ghoul didn’t say anything, instead, he kept walking. She dropped it, not wanting to increase the awkward tension brewing between them. Her shoes slipping and thunking below her no matter how much she lifted her feet. Jade swallowing knowing that it probably bugs the Ghoul how much noise she made.  

“Why yah do that?” Cooper asked, still looking forward, Jade looking around like she could see the answer to his question in the soil. 

“What're'ya talking about? I kinda make a habit of doing stupid thin's” Jade replied, wincing when the sock moved over the blister wrong. 

The Ghoul let out a huff of breath, “Yeah I’ve noticed that.” Take a puff of chem, breathing it out before continuing, “The monster, why you decide jumpin' down its throat, though dat was a good idear?” 

Jade feeling his hand brush against hers as they walked, shrugging at the question, “I really don’t know. Figured we were going to die so might as well try somethin’.” 

Was jumping down the throat of a creature the size of a mountain smart? No, probably not. Honestly, there hadn’t been much thought to it, the same was when she ran out the door chasing after the Ghoul. It was just instinct, a human need to keep surviving, moving her forward even now. 

Cooper let out a chuckle, “Do you ever think before you act?”

Jade hummed,” Thinking never got me much, besides trouble. So I’ve decided to just go on instinct.”

“How’s that working for you?” He asked, his fingers brushing against Jade’s again. She tangles her fingers with his, as they continue down the way. Feeling happy that he didn’t have his gloves on, so she could feel the roughness of his skin. 

“Well, it almost got me shot by you, and then killed by raiders, there were the big ass roaches and that weird monster thing. But I am still walking so I guess we are good.” Jade smiles, “Besides, the company isn’t too bad.”  She squeezes his hand.

Ghoul squeezes her hand back, “Yeah, not too bad.”

Chapter nine

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*likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated.

*Updating one or twice a week depending, please note my schedule is getting hectic but I will continue to update! Please be patient with me

@pixelatedprofilepic @hiddlebatchedloki @toogaytofunctiondangit

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

Behind the Mask Part one

You are Anakin's friend, true love and the secret he will keep beyond all others. Anakin&F/reader

"Obi-Wan, go." You breathe heavily, staring between your friends. The heat of the planet, making sweat run down your face hiding the tears. The older Jedi looks to you, then back at Anakin still floating on this platform. "Palpatine is here. Please go." Your eyes turned to Anakin. Though you don't watch him you feel as Obi-Wan walks away. The new Sith Lord walks onto the hard lava rocks; even standing lower on the hill than you he towered over you.

"And your allegiances, Y/n, where do they lie?" His voice was hard. You look up into his yellow and red eyes, seeing how broken he was. You blinked several times rapidly, a fight against your mind and heart. 

"As ever, I am with you, Anakin." There was nothing now that could stop what has already happened. Nothing you could do to change the anger and fear that had taken control of your friend. 

"You will be my General, but you must renounce the Jedi." Anakin said, stepping closer to you. 

"I will do as you command, Lord Vader." Saying the name broke your heart. Still you knew the only way to keep Anakin safe from himself was to stay with him. You followed your new master back to the command centre on the lava planet. The self appointed Emperor stood waiting for you. He was already displeased, seeing you behind Vader only furthered his disdain.

"The Jedi should all be dead." He growled, a crooked, pale finger pointing at you. You felt Anakin shift beside you, his shoulder coming across you, shielding you.

"There are no Jedi in this room." He states for you. You take a knee before the Emperor, "I give myself to the Empire."

"I have made Y/n my General." Vader crossed his arms over his chest.

"Ahh, good, Lord Vader. You will need a good, trustworthy team beside you, but she is not one of them. Kill her."

"What?" Anakin looked down at you.

"Kill her, her pledge is false, I can hear it in her voice just as you can. Kill her, or I will do it for you." The Emperor took a step closer to you.

"No, I'll do it." Anakin pulled you by your shoulder, pulling you close to him. "I'm sorry. Just stay still, don’t move." He whispered, letting his lightsaber ignite through your body. You fist his robes in your hand as the heat sears through your body making you impossibly hotter. Tears dropped from your eyes as you fell limp in his arms. Anakin set you on the ground following his laughing master out of the room. Bile and blood bubbled in the back of your throat as you lay there. After everything that had happened, here you laid, stabbed by the man you loved. 

You don't know how long you stayed there lying on the ground waiting for death to come to you. Seat dripped down your forehead mixing with the tears from your eyes. At some point arms wrapped around you, taking the weight from your body and carried out of the room. The chest was warm and familiar, you had been against it before. Only two men had held you this way, Obi-wan had once carried you from a collapsed building during the clone wars. Anakin had held you close at night, when it was just the two of you alone. There had been time before his vision had taken over his mind. A time when you thought you might one day leave the Jedi order to be together with him. Whispered promises in darkened rooms. Until, the dreams began. Strange prophetic dreams of a child with Padme. Anakin had begun a relationship with the senator, all while keeping you on a hook of future promises. You watched as he became consumed with fear of his visions. Showing him stood side by side with his son. Defeating the Emperor. The sith and bringing balance to the force.

When you did finally open your eyes once more you were on a dark ship, the engines rumbled indicating you were already in space. Sitting up a sharp pain hits you in the side of your body.

"Steady, try not to move too much." A medic droid spoke to you.

"I'm alright." You say holding your side as you stand.

The door to the room opened and you looked into Anakin's face, full of regret.

"Y/n, you're awake. I'm so sorry, the Emperor he..."

"I understand. I shall stay hidden."

Anakin dropped into a chair, running his hand through his hair.

"Padme is...dead." a tear fell from his eye, "I did all of this to save her and now."

You crouch in front of him, trying to hide your pain. 

"We can still try. Find the power Palpatine promised you." He nods, "what about the baby?" You ask. He closes his eyes and you have your answer. Dead mother and child gone. His visions had been wrong. 

"The Emperor wants to keep my identity hidden. I was too well known." His voice broke between words. 

"He's going to put you behind a mask isn't he?" You say. You had already noted the change in his outfit. Anakin looked at the ground, then back to your eyes. After we left you he…” his breath hitched, “He made sure I would need it.” 

“The suit is keeping Lord Vader alive, acting as lungs in replacement for his.” The medic droid announced from behind you. 

“Replace yours?” You ask. 

“He crushed them, he knew I didn’t kill you, I am supposed to take you to the temple and show your death to any Jedi that are left.” You could hear it now, the way his breath didn’t come easily. 

"I have a suit being made for you. Y/n, I need you by my side. I can’t do this without you." his hand reached out to you. 

"Anakin, I met you thirteen years ago, I have been beside you from that moment." You put your hand on his, squeezing gently. "Where are we going to do?" You ask.

"The Emperor has given us a mission to seek out any Jedi left alive and eliminate them. Once I have killed a fake you we will make a start"

"But Ani we can't."

He stood, dropping your hand, stepping back from him. You watched his eyes harden once more, the soft man you knew fading away to the Sith Lord he had become. 

"The Jedi betrayed me, this has to happen." He turned leaving you alone in the cold room. At least you had stopped sweating. 

With nothing to do but wait for his return you stood in front of the mirror, pulling your shirt up to see the wound. The droids had done a good job of sealing it and rebuilding the skin. 

“Lord Vader was clever when he did this, the blade missed every organ and went clean through. You were very lucky. 

“Lucky.” you repeated the word, unsure if you believed it. A clone trooper entered the room, in his hands he held a stack of clothes, and a mask. All of it black. The trooper helped you into the suit, as the droid explained the tight leather straps around the middle had been added to give support to your injury. A heavy cloak went over the top of it all before the trooper pulled your back, tying it up so it would fit perfectly below the mask. Lifting the mask onto your head felt like a nail in a coffin. The shiny black ord connected onto a plate around your neck that held two small breathing valves and a voice controller. Before your eyes you could see several digital inputs. The world around you being explained through ones and zeros. A message appeared across the front telling you to come to the ship's hangar. You were informed that anything you say inside the mask will be heard only by Anakin. You walk beside the trooper, a finality in your steps. There was no going back when you saw him, adorned in a full mask, cap and sabre at his side. You fell into step behind him as Darth Vader excited the ship. 

Part two

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

🐺 Old Flames: Chapter Two

Old Flames: Juniper Camden died, but now she is back. After being revived by the supernaturals of Beacon Hills, Juniper is in for a heartbreaking whirlwind of ‘What the Hell Do I Do Now?’. Her boyfriend has twenty five years on her and a family of his own, she was declared dead years prior, and yet June still looks like the twenty year old she was before she disappeared. What is a girl to do? Avoid Christopher Argent at all costs.

Warnings: Peril.

To Note: Chris Argent x NAMED!FemReader.

Word Count: ~6.1k

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The Mendoza’s had told you that waking up from the spell would be like waking up from anesthesia. One moment you were locked in a deep sleepy state, and the next you were finally recalling things and able to function normally. Blinking your eyes as the sleepiness rapidly faded, you stared up at a white ceiling.

The Mendoza vault didn’t have white ceilings, had you been moved? You sat up and winced slightly at your stiff body. How long had you been laying in the vault waiting for the Mendoza’s to come to a treaty with the Argent’s? Looking down at your body, you noted that you were still wearing your black corduroys and blue blouse, the combo you usually wore when running errands for Gerard. At least that was something familiar.

Still getting used to moving your limbs once more, you slowly shifted yourself so you were sitting on the edge of the bed. While you were running a hand through your hair, you thought about everything the Mendoza’s had told you about the supernatural world, and about the family of my boyfriend.

Werewolves. Hunters.

It was all so strange, but at the same time, it made sense. The Argents ran a private security business and dealt with firearms. They could easily incorporate a hunting lifestyle into that, and by teaching you how to handle a gun, you were being taught the basics of hunting for when you would eventually marry into the family and learn about who they truly were.

All that time you had spent at the range with Chris, he had been honing your skills to shoot, and potentially, kill, a supernatural. But at the same time you could only remember pure enjoyment of sending time with Chris, being at the range hadn’t felt like training. You just got to spend time together, though sometimes things got a little too handsy when he was correcting your posture. In your defense, you were both still quite young.

You were finally feeling better that you were willing to risk getting to your feet, so carefully, you shifted your weight back to your feet. Standing up, you further looked around at what had to be a bedroom, and one you didn’t recognize. Had the Argents picked you up before you had woken up? Things also looked different and new. Maybe they had a weird style no one had seen before?

Rubbing your neck, you ventured for the door and opened it, not a hallway you recognized either. Just exactly where were you? Your ears picked up voices, so you did the natural thing and followed the sounds to a more open room. Upon emerging from the hallway, you blinked in confusion at the small group of teens that were lounging around talking to each other. Heads snapped your way and eyes went wide, and giving each person a careful look, you raised your eyebrows in confusion.

“Where am I?”

You were handed a glass full of amber liquid as you stared blankly at the far wall of the Hale loft. Your entire body was filled with small shakes as your brain very slowly comprehended the words you had just been told. It had been shocking when you had learned about the supernatural and the Argents… but this? This was devastating.

“You’re supposed to drink that…” Your eyes flickered up to the teen that had spoken and you briefly gave him a scowl before raising the glass your nose was wrinkling.

“I just woke up from being asleep for twenty-five years and you are giving me alcohol?” You questioned as your eyes darted over to the dark haired man who looked like he scowled a lot. You think he told you that his name was Derek. “I’m not even twenty-one yet…”

“It will help with your nerves, trust me, drink,” He told you, his green eyes boring into your own. You felt like muttering underneath your breath about the absurdity of it all but in all honesty, you really needed to calm down and collect yourself. You took a sip, ignoring the slight burning sensation it caused your throat.

“So the Mendoza’s are dead…” You quietly murmured out as you lowered the glass back to your lap. “I really thought that— it really doesn’t matter does it, I never really knew them…”

“My uncle Peter found you in the Mendoza Vault, how’d you end up there and under that spell?” Your fingers tapped the glass in your hands. Peter was his uncle? You didn’t know Peter very well, but the Hales had always been a prominent family in Beacon Hills.

“The Mendoza’s took me as a bargaining chip against the Argents, or a means of protection so to speak. They wanted to talk to the Argents without the risk of being straight up killed.” You explained with a soft sigh. “They only wanted to live peacefully and had no intentions of ever hurting me. That how I found out about who the Argents really are, and about the Supernatural. Clarissa, the Alpha’s mate, told me they didn’t know how long it would take to talk things out with Gerard so they were going to have their emissary put me under that spell so I wouldn’t be just sitting around twiddling my thumbs. It would be like blinking. I guess Gerard never had any intention of negotiating with them.”

“The Mendoza’s were wiped out by the Argents. It’s presumed that Gerard lied to Chris and the others about what had happened to you.” Derek replied as his brows furrowed. “The Argents live by a code, they don’t hurt supernaturals that don’t hurt others. Except for Gerard, he just wants all the supernatural dead.”

“So you’re saying that he used me as a reason to kill them all?” You questioned, that terrifying thought echoing in your mind. “I’m why the Mendoza’s are dead?”

“No, Gerard is the reason, he just used you as a means to an end.” Derek told you. “This is all on Gerard, not you, not Chris, not anyone else, Gerard.”

“Chris,” You breathed out, your eyes briefly closing. “I don’t even want to know what he had to go through because of that lie. Have— have you told him? Does he know about me?”

“You could say that,” One of the teens, Isaac, answered. “Peter called Chris after you were brought here, he knows you’re alive… or at least not dead.”

Your grip on the glass tightened until your knuckles were straining against your skin. Chris… he had to be what… in his forties now? You could not go back to the way you were and you didn’t even know if he wanted to be near you, or try to at least be friends again.

“Right now I think it would be best if you learned to live in this century.” Derek spoke up. “Identity mess aside, things have changed since 1990, it’ll take you time to acclimate.”

“I don’t have anywhere to stay, I don’t have an identity, money, a legal education, a place to live… what am I supposed to do?” You questioned Derek. “I’m— I’m no one.”

“That’s where we come in, we can get you everything you need to start your life again. But for the time being, you can stay with Lydia, she has room and her mom is never around.”

“Am I supposed to know who Lydia is?”

“She’s the local Banshee,”

The local Banshee… of course…

“This is the guest bedroom, which will be yours until the packs get everything settled. You don’t need to worry about my mom coming around and finding out about you, she’s never around, and even if she does… well, she won’t care.” You stared at the red head wondering just how out of touch her mother was to literally not care who her daughter brought home.

“Does your mother not care what you do?” You questioned her in confusion. Lydia shrugged before shaking her head.

“No, not really, it has its pros and cons, but I’ve gotten used to it.” You were a little put off at how nonchalant she was being with her absent parent, but decided it was best not to push her any further about the subject. Lydia looked you up and down before taking your wrist and pulling you to her own room. “Since you don’t have anything to wear, you can borrow some of my clothes, we’re pretty close in size I think.”

While you looked around her room and took in the twenty first century, Lydia started digging in her closet. You were half listening to her mumbles as you ran your fingers over the keyboard of a super sleek laptop that seemed to be a quarter of the thickness of the rare laptops you had occasionally seen. The world really had sped ahead in technology, you wondered how long it would take you to catch up…

“Do people still wear jeans?” You questioned while looking at the textbooks stacked on Lydia’s desk. “Because I am not exactly the fanciest of people, my parents raised me on goodwill and church donations.”

“We still wear jeans, but I have just the thing for you to wear to make you sure cute.” Lydia said as she pulled out a black dress with a pink flowers printed all over it. It had a sweetheart neckline with soft flutter sleeves and a loose skirt that would would fall mid thigh. “Now combine that with my beige booties and a sun hat? You’ll be perfect, except I need to do something about your hair and makeup.”

“I’m not a doll you know,” You reminded her, Lydia just gave you a half hearted shrug before throwing the dress onto her plush bed and diving back into her closet.

“You might as well be, I don’t get very many chances to play with Allison…” Lydia trailed off at the mention of Allison.

“It’s okay, you know, to talk about her,” You spoke up, turning away from Lydia’s desk to take a seat on the bed next to the tossed dressed. “I’m not so ignorant to not believe that he moved on and had a kid. But I would like to know about her, we’re bound to come across each other at some point.”

“True, but I think you are wrong about the whole moving on thing,” Lydia replied as she emerged from her closet. “I might not know what your guys relationship was like, but Allison’s dad is definitely not over you.” 

“It’s been twenty-five years.”

“And I know a man still in love when I see one. His reaction was more than enough evidence…” She quipped back before setting the beige bootie she had mentioned on her desk and planting a hand on her hip. “So tell me, how good are you in heels?”

“I’m decent,” You told her before eyeing the booties once more. “And those look like they have a thick heel so I should be fine. Can you tell me what Allison is like?”

“Smart, clever, has beautiful dark hair, needs to get a long term boyfriend…” Lydia trailed off while tossing her strawberry blonde hair to the other shoulder. “I think you two will get along.”

“Are you saying that because I was in a relationship with her father… or because it is the truth?” 

“You seem pretty chill, Allison is also chill, you’ll get along fine. Now change, there’s a Lacrosse game this afternoon and you are going.” Lydia Martin had spoken, and you figured that it was probably best to just go along with her.

Peeling your outdated clothing off your body while Lydia went and did something in her bathroom, you pulled the dress on over your head and pulled your hair from the neckline. It felt nice on your skin, flattered your body, and was surprisingly comfortable. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but notice how ashen you looked.

You guess spending twenty-five years sleeping in a vault did that to one’s complexion. Lydia poked her head out of her bathroom with a flat iron in hand.

“Good you’re dressed, that means I can work on your hair.” It was at this point you figured out Lydia was using you as an excuse to play dress up. “So the boys are playing Devonford Prep, total hotties, but we are still cheering for Beacon Hills.”

“Then why mention the other team and their aesthetically pleasing looks?” You asked in confusion as you adjusted the wide brim sunhat you were wearing. Until you got your identity sorted, everyone wanted you to remain incognito. Wearing a hat helped to obscure your face.

“Why not? They’re hot and fun to look at, especially when our boys know we’re watching.” Your eyebrow popped up in understanding.

“Do you normally make them jealous on purpose?” Lydia gave you a pink smile before pulling you from your seat in her car.

“Keeps them on their toes, come on, we have seats to find before the bleachers fill up.” With one hand on your sun hat and the other in Lydia’s grasp, your feet worked overtime in the beige booties you were wearing to keep up with her.

Considering that Lydia was a mere five foot three inches, you were surprised that you still had a hard time keeping up with her at your own height. She had a lengthy walk.

You felt out of place in the swarm of people heading for the lacrosse field, but no one gave you a second glance save for the younger boys and a few girls. They were probably curious as to who was with the Queen Bee of Beacon Hills.

“Did you mention that we were meeting up with someone?” You questioned as Lydia took a sharp left to head for a less packed area of the stands.

“It’s time you and Allison meet, besides, she just started dating Isaac.”

“And Isaac is?” Lydia stopped short before turning to face you, she grabbed your other hand with a frank look.

“Quick run down of the McCall pack, Scott is the Alpha, Isaac is a Beta… but technically not currently in the pack, Malia is a werecyote, Kira is a kitsune, I’m an banshee, Mason is a genetic Chimera human… I’ll tell you about that later, and Stiles, human, spastic, but our detective.” Lydia summarized quickly as you nodded. “And Allison of course, she’s a hunter, but doesn’t do much of that since her mother died.”

Touchy subject you were not willing to bring up without prompt by her.

“So you’re are all a hodge podge of random supernaturals plus one human who sounds like he needs to be on a high dose of Adderal.” You replied as your mind worked quick to memorize and categorize names with species. Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Stiles has a habit of forgetting to take his medication… but he is good at figuring things out.” Lydia admitted before looking at something over your shoulder. “Looks like Allison is here, believe me, you two will get along.”

You gave Lydia a look before the hairs on the back of your neck rose. You could feel a gaze on you, your upper half twisted around to look back at the parking lot where people were parking and dropping off. Eyes scanning the cars, you searched for the source of the burning gaze. It was so startling familiar you were nearly unnerved and uncomfortable by it.

But you couldn’t see anything that tipped you off.

“Juniper?” Blinking, you turned back around to Lydia. “You okay?”

“Sorry, just thought I felt…” You trailed off when you realized whose gaze it had felt like. You didn’t want to think about him right now. “Never mind me, I think I’m still jumpy from the whole twenty-five years asleep.”

“Well, don’t jump now, but Allison is coming over.” That made you freeze for a second, panic flashing through your veins before you quelled it enough to not start hyperventilating. It wasn’t like you were about to meet your boyfriend’s daughter, or well, you suppose he was your ex-boyfriend now.

That was going to take some getting used to, you hadn’t been single in years.

“Hi, Lydia,” A sweet voice said, a dark haired teen emerging from the crowd to stop next to where Lydia had you standing. You glanced at Allison and took in her appearance. She was definitely Chris’s daughter, but you could pick out the features she had gotten from her mother.

“Allison, this is Juniper, it’s our job to acclimate her to the twenty-first century.” You shot Lydia a slightly scathing look.

“You say that like I’ve been living underneath a rock for a few centuries.” You huffed at her.

“No, you’ve just been asleep for twenty-five years, say hello,” Rolling your eyes, you gave Allison a small smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, Allison.”

“I know it must be weird or even uncomfortable, but it’s nice to finally meet you after hearing what little stories I could squeeze out of dad.” Allison responded. “He didn’t talk about you much, definitely didn’t like talking about you either.”

You winced. Yeah, as the story went, most people had thought you had been mauled almost unrecognizable.

“Understandable, I’ve heard the stories about my apparent death, it was not pretty.” You muttered before looking up at the bleachers. “Can someone please educate me on lacrosse so I actually know what is going on?”

While Lydia gave you the basic run down on how Lacrosse was played, she and Allison led you up the short bleachers to find a seat. You found your seats and you looked to examine the Beacon Hills Lacrosse team. You recognized a few of team members from when you had woken up and connected names with faces.

“So if Lacrosse wasn’t popular in your time, what was?” You blinked before glancing at Allison and giving her a smile.

“Basketball. I get that… but Lacrosse? Not in the slightest.” You explained as your eyes skimmed over players until you were looking at the opposing team. Did all boys this age look more mature and hotter than they did in your time? Don’t forget the jacked part too. Many a boy you saw looked far too muscled for their age. “Just how many supernatural’s are there in this town these days?”

“More than anyone thinks,” Allison responded as the coach for Beacon Hills started yelling at someone called ‘Greenburg’. “I can get you up to speed on all of the types that are currently residing here. Beacon Hills seems to be a hot spot.”

“I’m surprised I didn’t find out sooner,” You softly murmured as you leaned your forearms on your knees and rested your chin in your palm. “Especially with Gerard hanging around so much and asking me to do stuff for him.”

“What exactly did he have you doing?” You rolled your head so you were looking at Allison once more.

“Errands mostly, met with a few of his clients to drop papers off or collect signatures. I was running a parcel to one of his contacts the day the Mendoza’s took me.”

“Sounds like he was grooming you to join the family.” Lydia commented. You couldn’t disagree with that statement.

Over two weeks since you had acclimated into your new life, you were holding the iPod Allison had given you after learning about your love for music, tears running down your cheeks.

 You had been a little suspicious of the contents of the iPod, as all of the music contained most of your favorite songs. You hadn’t talked about your music preferences with anyone since waking up. Allison had given you a quick tour of how to use the small device, and after finding a playlist already made, you had chosen to play those songs first.

The first song that played had your eyes burning, the second you were sniffling, and the third you were openly crying, biting hard on your lower lip so that Lydia didn’t hear you sobbing inside your borrowed room. It hurt so much to listen to this song, so so much, but you couldn’t stop hitting the back button to play it again.

Highway run

Into the midnight sun

Wheels go 'round and 'round

You're on my mind

Restless hearts

Sleep alone tonight

Sendin' all my love

Along the wire

Over and over and over, you played it. You played it until you had to press a pillow into your face to muffle the god awful sobs coming from your mouth. It was the only thing you had left to connect yourself to what you had those twenty-five years prior. Going to classes, coming home to relax and enjoy cooking a meal, sharing a meal with the one person who mattered most in your life.

You eyes closed and your fingers tightened around the iPod you had clutched to your chest. No one ever said loving someone would be easy, but there wasn’t exactly a handbook or counselor you could go to for this. Scott’s mom had tried to get you to talk about it, hell, even Allison and Lydia periodically told you that you needed to talk to someone about what you were feeling, rather than let it fester. Talking was hard, staying silent was easy.

Circus life

Under the big top world

We all need the clowns

To make us smile

Through space and time

Always another show

Wondering where I am

Lost without you

You weren’t sure if you were going to smile like you used to, every day that ticked by it was harder and harder to move your mouth into a natural smile. You weren’t sure if you would be able to keep up that façade of being ‘okay’. Most days you were grasping at straws trying to find an ounce of happiness in your life. The Hale pack had pulled through with their promise of getting your life back. Your degree, your identity, money, you had everything you could want, except the one thing you needed.

Falling back on your bed, you dragged the pillow down your face and stared at the ceiling, your hot tears now running down the side of your face. Overwhelming was the statement of this new century, and you weren’t quite sure if you could manage to stay strong enough to keep going. Deep in your heart, you knew that you didn’t have enough love in you to ever fall in love with someone else.

Faithfully

I'm still yours

I'm forever yours

Forever yours

Faithfully

You sniffed once more before releasing your iPod and rubbing your watery eyes. You needed to stop crying over what you had. It was pathetic. Your head rolled and you looked out the window, seeing that it was a surprisingly clear night out, the moon shining overhead brightly. You needed to clear your head, and you think a midnight walk would do just that. How many people would be up right now to see you upset? Some of the pack on patrol most likely, so it was probably safe to walk around the preserve.

Pulling the headphones from your ears, you tossed the pillow aside and rolled off the bed. Stripping yourself out of your nightgown, you changed into jeans and sweater, grabbing your silver necklace and hooking it around your neck. You scribbled a quick note to leave on your desk in case Lydia came looking for you for some odd reason, and with your iPod in hand, left the room.

You quickly moved through the Martin household, grabbing your sneakers and hopping along as you pulled the already tied shoes on. Stuffing your iPod into your jean pocket, your fingers grabbed the dark blue long coat insisted you get and you stepped outside. It was chilly, your skin prickled as you buttoned the coat and got your iPod and headphones situated once more. But the chill in the air made you feel more alive, and you could be thankful for that. You went to the main list of songs and hit ‘shuffle’, before stuffing your hands into the pockets of the coat and walking down the sidewalk.

The slightly misty night was calming as you walked, heading for the nature preserve. Your head tilted back and looked up at the bright moon illuminating your face. The stars overhead twinkled just like had twenty five years ago. Letting out a nostalgic sigh and then a sniff, you turned down the little dirt path that was a short cut to the nature preserve.

Your iPod clicked to the next song and ‘Edge of Seventeen’ started playing, bringing a small smile to your down turned lips. It brought back memories of your seventeenth birthday party. A bunch of your high school friends had arranged a surprise birthday party that involved some not so legal drinks and a night of Stevie Nicks.

That night had been crazy fun, you all had let loose since Amelia had convinced you to make it a boys free night. Let’s just say you had one hell of a hangover that Monday morning and school had been a bitch to suffer through. But you wouldn’t take back one second.

You found yourself humming along to the lyrics while stepping over branches that had fallen onto the narrow trail. It wasn’t until you were halfway down your usual walking trail that you noticed that something felt… off. Your finger paused the music blaring in your ears, and stuffing the headphone into your jacket pocket and zipping it closed, you looked around.

Your eyes couldn’t pick up anything in the dark shadows of the forest, but Chris had always told you to trust your instincts, and your instincts told you that you weren’t alone. Breathing out, your exhale turned into a cloud of white in the cold air as you twisted your body and further looked around. Still nothing. You frowned and started walking again, but this time at a slower and more methodical pace, trying to remain aware of your surroundings. Five minutes later you still hadn’t come across anyone, but that hair raising feeling still hadn’t left. Just as you were about to split left to head down another trail, your ears finally picked up on the sounds of someone else crunching their way through the misty late night.

A few seconds later Allison came into view, a crossbow in hand. Your eyebrow rose as you stared at the weapon.

“I thought you liked short bows?” You asked her, shifting your gaze to meet hers. Allison let out a snort before shrugging and looking at you inquisitively.

“Felt like the crossbow tonight… what are you doing out? It’s literally the middle of the night…” You returned the shrug and looked up at the dark sky.

“Couldn’t sleep so I decided to go for a walk, my head’s too muddled with thoughts. Walking always helped me clear my mind so I figured I’d get out while I had peace and quiet.”

“Yeah, I get that… but it’s also kind of dangerous, the pack we’re dealing with isn’t playing fair.” Allison explained, hefting her crossbow up. “Scott is worried that they’ll go after a human this time.”

Your eyebrows pinched together as you tilted your head to the side in thought.

“That sounds… serious…what exactly is going on? No one has told me anything.” You questioned as the two of you started meandering down the trail. Allison sighed and adjusted her grip on her crossbow.

“The rival pack wants the Hale packs land, and are rivaling Scott’s land as well,” She said as you simultaneously stepped over a fallen tree branch. “They’ve already made it apparent that they don’t have a problem attacking pack members to get their point across.”

You hummed in response and rubbed your chin before stuffing your hands into your coat pockets. Your fingers brushed against the iPod.

“I hope you teens aren’t burning yourselves out with all this patrolling.” You spoke, chewing on your lip. “High school can be brutal when you’re bogged down with homework, and add all of these supernatural issues… I’m surprised that you all seem to be not insane by now.”

“Yeah, I’ve gotten used to it,” Allison chuckled, then she frowned slightly. “So… I know by now you don’t want to really talk about it… but how exactly did you live in Beacon Hills your whole life and not find out about the Supernatural? I mean, you were dating my dad, he’s a hunter… surely you would have come across something?”

“Well, that… I couldn’t tell you. I mean now that I think about it, I wonder how I could have been so blind?” You let out a snort of disgust. “I guess I was just one of those girls so in love I failed to see what was right in front of me.”

Allison didn’t comment, so you continued talking.

“When you date someone that long and you think you know them, you are blind to what is hidden in the shadows.” You chuckled and shook your head. “I can’t believe we used joke about parenting goals… it— it only seems like yesterday.”

“You guys joked about parenting goals?” Allison questioned with a small laugh, you couldn’t help the small smile that bit at the corners of your mouth.

“I have an issue with public displays of affection, Chris never let me forget that. Your father likes— liked, to tease me mercilessly in the privacy of our apartment.”

“Yeah, he liked to tease my mom on occasion, but not nearly as much as it sounds like he teased you.” You made a sound in echoed agreement.

“I think at this point I’m just gla—“ Your words were broken off by a not so distant growl which had the both of you spinning around and Allison bringing up her crossbow.

“Shit,” Allison breathed out. “I think that’s—“ Another growl, only this time is was much closer. You grabbed the sleeve of Allison’s jacket and tugged on it, hard.

“Time to go, neither of us are equipped to handle anything by ourselves.” You told her, pulling her in the opposite direction. Luckily Allison wasn’t too resistant to your idea to flee, and the both of you were soon booking it down the path. “So what do you think that is?”

Allison, huffing and puffing next to you, glanced over her shoulder.

“Kanima, we’re dealt with one before. They’re controlled by someone and sent after people, so far we can guess that the rival pack is trying to force our hand with the land. I think it knows my scent from a few nights ago.”

“Kanima, great… I have no idea what that is… what do I need to know about them?”

“It looks like a giant lizard and don’t get hit by their venom in their claws or tail, it will leave you paralyzed for hours.” A giant lizard? How the hell does a giant lizard go around Beacon Hills without getting caught? This wasn’t the time to think about that so your brain went in a different direction.

“You said it has your scent? That means it is hunting you?” You questioned. Allison nodded.

“We should break up, it doesn’t know your scent yet. We should keep it that way.” Allison said as a tree branch slapped you in the face. You spit out a few leaves and yanked Allison to a stop.

“No way in hell,” You stated before looking at her coat, it was long and looked well used… which meant that it was probably soaked in her scent. You started stripping your coat off. “Take your coat off.”

Allison looked at you in confusion.

“What? Why?” Shoving your coat underneath your arm, you started pulling at the zipper of her coat while she protested.

“It knows your scent, so let’s confuse it,” You explained, forcing her jacket off her free hand. “It can only follow one trail, so if I take your coat and you take mine, maybe it will get confused enough to throw off its hunt.”

“You know a lot about hunting…” Allison commented beneath her breath as she shed her jacket with a very unhappy expression on her face.

“Byproduct of spending years at the range and going hunting,” You explained shortly as you handed your jacket over and swung Allison’s coat around your shoulders. You zipped it up and looked at the way you had come. “I’ll distract it while you go and find one of the boys who’ll be better equipped at handling a Kanima.”

“Juniper…”

“I know this place like the back of my hand, I’ll be fine,” You told her before giving her a little shove in the opposite direction. “Now go!”

Allison was still hesitating.

“More distracting! Less indecision!” You hissed at her, moving back the way you had come. Allison let a noise of frustration and ran off, your coat hopefully smothering her scent slightly. Your adrenaline was now pumping through your veins and causing a jitter to run through your limbs. Eyes searching for any sign of movement, you found nothing and had to rely on the sounds the Kanima was making.

The first glimpse you got was yellow eyes and mottled scaled skin. Your stomach rolled and you turned tail instantly, crashing your way through the woods perpendicular to where Allison had ran. The Kanima behind you let out a roar, and you heard it give chase… but that only made your adrenaline pump faster and a new thought popped into your head.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all… because you didn’t know what to do when it caught up to you.

Weaving through the trees at a less than desired speed, you tried your best not to slip on the damp forest floor or trip over any unassuming roots. You had just made it to a stretch of forest that was slightly more even underfoot when a blur shot in front of you and you were confronted with a very scaly… lizard man?

You slid as your forward momentum carried your feet forwards while trying to veer off to the right to avoid crashing right into the thing hunting Allison. You nearly face planted, but managed to save yourself from completely sprawling out onto your stomach with your hands flat on the ground. Pushing yourself back up from a semi crouched position, you stumbled forwards. But you didn’t get very far.

Something snaked around your ankle and yanked you back, partially sending you flying into the air until you hit the cold ground and tumbled. You felt your chin smash into a rock as you rolled, and when you stopped moving, you were sure a stick was digging into your stomach. Groaning out, you just barely shifted when you were pulled by your ankle once more.

You let out a gasp and scrambled to grab onto something, but your searching fingers came up with nothing, and soon a scaled hand was forcing you onto your back. Your wide eyes stared up into a face full of scales and teeth, and despite being petrified, you still managed to continue your search for a weapon with your fingers.

Something seemed to click in the Kanima’s mind that you weren’t the one it was hunting, and it let out a bone rattling roar in your face. Pressing back into the cold mossy forest floor, you whimpered slightly, afraid it was going to lash out at you. But then your fingers found a rock, a single, precious rock you could use. When it stopped its roar, your arm came swinging up as hard as you could manage, and you hit it in the side of the face.

It reared back with a screech, giving you a chance to try and crawl away. Hands digging into the cold ground, you scrambled to get out from under the lizard man. Stumbling to your feet, you probably made it three steps from the screeching creature before something lashed across your left thigh, drawing a line of fire across your skin.

A cry of pain left your lips and a second later your entire body went numb, then you were crashing back to the forest floor in a heap of none responsive limbs. Lying on the ground, you breathed hard against the frosty moss pressing against your cheek and tried not to panic. Allison had said not to get hit by the Kanima because its venom caused paralysis. You were shit out of luck, because you were fairly sure your thigh had just been scratched open by its claws.

This was not good. 

Date Published: 6/17/22

Last Edit: 9/14/23

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[sotvtaughtmehowtofeel]

The author regrets everything

TW: major character death, child death, suicide, graphic depictions of violence/body horror

This is the only dead dove: do not eat thing I will ever write

I blame @joelxmiller @skoulsons @tlouobsessed but really it's just my fault. I am so sorry.

Joel enters the operating room in Salt Lake City to find that he's too late.

Joel shouldered the door to the operating room open. Ellie was lying on the table, bathed in harsh fluorescent lights. The pulse ox on her finger was beating too quietly for him to hear.

It had to be.

“Unhook her.” He didn’t remove his eyes from her, didn’t even notice how many people were in the room. There was blood.

Oh God, why was there blood?

In the periphery of his vision- he couldn’t look away from Ellie- he saw bloodied gloves move away from her head. He couldn’t see where they’d been, she looked fine- she had to be fine.

“Unhook her.” The voice sounded so far away. He was only vaguely aware it was his.

There was shifting in the periphery of his vision. They were stepping away from her. She wasn’t moving. He rushed forward, setting the gun on the table.

Her skull-

His breath was forced out of him like he’d been hit by a truck. His blood was so cold, colder than her hand when he touched it. She was cold.

“No, babygirl, wake up, babygirl you need to wake up, I’m here, baby, I’ve got you, I’m here, wake up, baby-” the words tumbled out of his mouth as he gripped her hand, touched her face, cupped her cheek, pulled her chin so she’d be looking at him—

Her eyes were open. Glossed over. Sarah had given him the same look after Tommy pulled him away from her. “No, no, baby-” He had no idea when he’d started crying. He couldn’t feel the tears on his cheeks. His lungs had stopped working, a deep burn in his chest building- his heart had stopped.

He’d failed her again. He’d known. He had known. He’d only get her-

“It’s done,” the doctor said quietly, trying to pull Joel away from his babygirl.

His shouted “no!” was echoed by the gunshot. He had fired hadn’t he? Yes. How had he gotten the gun…? He silenced the whimpers in the corner with two more quick shots. Ellie would be silent forever; the world shouldn’t have sound anymore.

“Baby, please, please, baby, I need you to wake up, you gotta tell me some puns, babygirl, I need to hear some puns and you’re the only one- baby, please, wake up, tell me about space, babygirl, where you gonna go once we find you a spaceship?, where we gonna build that sheep ranch, baby-”

He finally saw the piece of her skull they’d removed, lying discarded on a bench next to the operating table. He picked it up delicately, trying to overlay it trying to replace it he had to cover he had to cover her brain oh God her brain

they’d hollowed her out. He had to get her out he had to-

-Ellie jostled gently in his arms as he walked. He was outside, standing on a hill, taller than any around. She had to get to moon. She had to-

-he stared down into the hole in the ground. Dirt and blood caked his arms up to his biceps. It was too shallow it was too small he had to keep digging- he couldn’t look over at her, lying on the ground next to him, but he knew the hole was big enough.

She was too small. He cradled her against him, holding her too tightly. She should be complaining, telling him he was gonna break her ribs-

-the gra- the mound was too small. He had to add more dirt just to make it a mound, just to prove that she was there. His babygirl-

He fell to his knees at her feet, his hand grasping around to find the gun. His eyes were open; he didn’t see anything.

It wasn’t like last time. It wasn’t really that he was ready. It wasn’t just that he wasn’t afraid.

He just wasn’t.

He wasn’t anything. Sarah was gone, Ellie was gone, and so was Joel. He was already dead.

The bullet didn’t matter.

[fandomficsnstuff]

Wolves And Hounds - 18

(Warnings: Mentions of dead bodies, blood, fighting, angst, vague hints at SA and maybe a little fluff at the end<3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Karliah woke up the second the horse stopped, lifting her head from Sandor’s back to look around, slipping her hands from around him and his belt as she yawned and Sandor secretly loathed that she’d moved her hands, he had gotten so used to the slight pressure that now he felt cold where her arms had once been wrapped around him. “Are we at the Vale?” she asked through her yawn, looking around once more, grimacing at the sight of all the dead people, a certain unease taking root in her “and why are we surrounded by dead bodies?” she asked with a small wince, Sandor scoffing lightly, nodding ahead and she listened, hearing distant horses and she looked up at Sandor from behind him. He turned stiffly and looked over his shoulder at her, studying her before grumbling, clicking his tongue a little, riding his horse a little closer to the sound before getting off with Arya and Karliah. He tied up the horse as Arya and Karliah sneaked over to some bushes to get a better look. Sandor soon joined them, Arya’s stomach growling a little and Karliah frowned at her before looking at Sandor. “She’s hungry. I’m hungry. You’re hungry.”

“There’s five horses. Five horses means five men. I don’t feel like fighting five men on an empty stomach, dove.”

“And what am I? A figment of your imagination? I can swing a sword, you know that-”

“Aye, sixteen years ago” he hissed and her eyes widened, face turning red “I got the drop on you in King’s Landing, didn’t I?!” she whispered harshly, glaring at him before turning to Arya. “It’s two against five, we-”

“I know him” Arya whispered as two men came out the back of the inn “the small one… his name is Polliver” Arya added and Karliah took in the cold look on her face, a frown forming on her brows and she looked back at the man in question “he captured us and took us to Harrenhall… he’s one of the men who killed Yoren” Arya admitted in a whisper and Karliah sighed heavily, looking ahead to study the men, their armour, their demeanour and weapons. “He killed Lommy…”

“What the fuck’s a ‘Lommy’?” Sandor asked Arya and Karliah kept her gaze on the two men, frowning a little with confusion at who ‘Lommy’ was but she kept her eyes on them nonetheless. “He was my friend. Polliver took my sword and stuck it right through his neck… he’s still got it!”

“Got what?”

“My sword; Needle.”

“‘Needle’... of course you named your bloody sword.”

“Lots of people name their swords.”

“Lots of cunts” Sandor’s reply made Karliah look up at him in slight shock “Sandor!” she hissed and he looked at her, glaring lightly at her “don’t tell me you named your fucking sword too when you fought in the rebellion” he growled and she scoffed and shook her head “no, I didn’t… not exactly-”

“What the fuck- What are you doing?!” Sandor hissed as he realised that Arya was halfway down the small hill to the inn, both Karliah and Sandor hurrying after her. “Arry!”

“Jon gave me that sword” Arya stated suddenly and Karliah stopped in her tracks as Arya turned to face her. “Jon gave it to me” she stated again and Karliah sighed softly “Arya, there’s five men in there. Well armoured and armed men-”

“I’m getting my sword back” she stated with determination, continuing to march towards the inn and Karliah groaned a little, both her and Sandor catching up with Arya, Sandor catching her first. “He killed my friend-!”

“I don’t care if he ate your friend, we’re not going in there!” Sandor growled just as the door opened and Karliah froze up, eyes a little wide as she reached Arya and Sandor, standing behind Arya, a hand protectively on her shoulder, keeping her against her. As the man who had tried to walk outside spotted Sandor, he slowly backed away and Sandor stared him down before slowly taking steps to walk inside, Karliah reluctantly following after him, guiding Arya in as well, her hand on her shoulder firm and steady as she did everything she could to keep Arya close, where she could protect her. As they got inside, Sandor having to bend down a little to get through the doorway, Karliah’s grip on Arya tightened when she heard women sobbing and struggling to get away from the men, her heart racing and she looked up at Sandor while Arya reached behind her and closed the door, her eyes locked on Polliver, who didn’t even turn to look at who had arrived and managed to quiet the rowdy men with their mere presence. But then again, Karliah could only imagine that few men could do that, so it narrowed down the possibilities quite a lot as to who could be responsible for the new silence.

She followed Sandor to a bench in the far back of the inn, sitting Arya down on the bench with the table between the rest of the inn, about to pull up a chair to sit next to her when Sandor pulled up a chair next to himself on the bench next to Arya, Karliah glancing down at Arya who gave a subtle nod and she nodded subtly in return, walking around the table to sit down at the end of it on the chair that Sandor had pulled over for her from another table. “Thank you” she whispered politely, keeping her gaze and head down, her heart still racing out of her chest, she was sure she’d have to chase after it if it kept up the pace a little while longer.

“I know you!” Karliah froze at those words, her eyes moving to Arya who also looked at her, her hand reaching behind her for Sandor’s sword and Karliah’s hand subtly reached Sandor’s knee, her eyes pleading as she was ready to point out that Arya was about to draw his sword. Or at least attempt to draw it. “You’re the Hound!” Karliah breathed out a shaky breath of relief, her eyes moving to Arya, giving her a warning glare and Arya slowly removed her hand from the sword hilt, Karliah giving her a subtle nod. “Pour our new friend some ale! And his… what’s your name, pretty?” he asked with a disturbing grin as he sat down on the bench across from Sandor and Arya, next to Karliah. “Ulma…” Karliah lied quietly, keeping her head down and Polliver grinned, reaching over, letting the back of his fingers run softly down her arm and Karliah felt like barfing. “Where in the seven hells did you get a pretty thing like her?” he asked as he kept smirking at Karliah, Sandor clenching his jaw and fists tightly in a warning and it seemed the Polliver got the message, lifting his hands in mock defeat “not a sharer, that’s alright” he determined, casting Karliah a final smirk before looking back at Sandor.

“So! What brings you so far North?”

“I could ask the same of you. What are you doing up here?”

“Just keeping the King’s peace.”

“No need. The war’s over” Sandor pointed out as the innkeeper arrived with mugs and ale, pouring some for Karliah and Sandor both, Karliah looking up at him with an apologetic look before he scurried off. “So I’ve heard. Stannis defeated at the Blackwater. Robb Stark killed at the Twins. And where am I for all of it? Stuck with your brother! Meanin’ no offence.”

“None taken.”

“He’s good, the Mountain is. The best at what he does, but… torture, torture, torture, torture. You spend enough time puttin’ the hammer to people, you start to feel like a carpenter making chairs. Drains the fun right out’f it. And what’s life without a little fun?” he asked, chuckling briefly, glancing at Karliah again with that same disgusting smirk before looking at Arya in the same way, smirking “but I don’t need to tell you that, do I? You’ve got whole two with you!” he said with amusement, moving his gaze back at Karliah as she tried to calm herself and her boiling blood. “She’s alright. I’ve had better. Though I like this one a little better” Sandor grumbled and gestured to Karliah, Polliver laughing creepily in amusement “I can imagine, she looks good… you know what? You should come with us. His kind, they’ve always got something hidden away somewhere,” he stated and gestured behind him to the innkeeper, Karliah’s blood boiling with rage as she looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with the woman, probably the innkeeper’s daughter, as she was forced into the laps of those men, struggling as they tried to grope at her, laughing and joking and it was as though everything else was blank to her except those men, their laughs, their disgusting remarks and the way they handled that poor girl.

“Fuck the King” Karliah looked back at Sandor at his words, her heart racing a little faster but this time it wasn’t out of anger. It was excitement. A rush of adrenaline. A smirk tugging at her lips as she looked at Polliver, picking up the mug of ale that she hadn’t touched, drinking all of it while keeping eye contact with the disgusting creature of a man as the inn was as quiet as an abandoned Weirwood tree.

“When I’d heard that Joffrey’s dog had tucked tail and run from the battle of the Blackwater with his bitch wife, I didn’t believe it. But here you are-”

“Here I am. Bring us one of those chickens” Sandor ordered and Karliah felt that rush again. It was inappropriate. So inappropriate, but the way he spoke calmly, dominantly… it made fire course through her veins and set every single inch of her ablaze, as though she’d been bathed in dragonfire and she couldn’t help it, her hand, which was still subtly on his knee under the table, moved up a little, to his thigh. Her blood felt thicker in her veins as she felt his thigh under all of that armour flex a little at her familiar yet brazen touch.

“You got money to pay for that chicken?”

“You paid for it?”

“No. But we’re the King’s men. So, you got money?” he asked, Sandor downing the rest of his ale “not a penny” he stated openly “I’ll still take that chicken.”

“Tell you what. We’ll trade ya. One of our little chickens for one of yours” Polliver stated as he casually gestured between Karliah and Arya, Karliah’s entire body tensing up and her hand slowly and subtly moved up from Sandor’s thigh to the outer side of it, slowly sliding up and under his cloak, reaching for one of his knives when his hand suddenly caught hers, his gaze still locked with Polliver’s, who didn’t seem to have noticed what Karliah had been trying to do. “Give us a go at your friend. You’ll even get to pick which one. Lowell there likes them a bit broken in” he stated as he turned and gestured to a man who waved with a chicken, Karliah’s body almost shaking with rage as Polliver turned back to look at Sandor, awaiting his response.

“You’re a talker… listening to talkers makes me thirsty,” Sandor reached over with his free hand, taking Polliver’s mug of ale and drinking all of it, all while keeping eye contact with him, downing the ale and putting the mug back down “and hungry. Think I’ll take two chickens” Sandor finished, Karliah trying to hide her smirk, Polliver looking over his shoulder at his men before looking back at Sandor. “You don’t seem to understand the situation.”

“I understand that if any more words come pouring out your cunt mouth, I’m going to have to eat every fucking chicken in this room.”

“You lived your life for the King. You’re gonna die for some chickens?”

“Someone is…” there was a longer while of silence, Sandor slowly letting go of Karliah’s hand and just as Polliver stood up she reached over, grabbing the knife out of it’s sheath, standing up just as Sandor flipped the table, knocking Polliver down to the ground with it and pinning him there, Karliah hurriedly running around the table as Sandor backhanded one of the attacking men, sending him almost head first into Karliah who gripped him tightly by the back collar of his leather armour, cutting his throat to the bone, as she’d heard her sister-in-law’s throat was cut.

Sandor cut down another man and pushed him aside, Karliah charging forward, dodging a sword being swung at her, tackling the man and stabbing him in the heart twice before getting up, stabbing the back of another man as Sandor cut him across his front, almost from balls to brains. Karliah hurried over to the innkeeper and his daughter, both of whom at first flinched but Karliah pushed them to hurry up the stairs, to which they quickly obeyed. Just as they had gotten up, a man swung his sword at her, Karliah moving out of the way just in time, stumbling a little, back hitting a wall and she ducked again as the sword was aimed at her head, stabbing the man’s thigh while hurrying out from under the sword, backing up while Sandor fought off the other man, the two of them remaining and Karliah focused on the man she’d stabbed already, watching him charge at her, ready for the fight when suddenly a large hand punched him so hard that blood and teeth flew out of his mouth and he landed on the ground with a heavy thud. Suddenly two men tackled Sandor, pushing him to the ground, kicking him and Karliah jumped up on one of them, legs wrapped around their neck from behind and she took the knife in her hand, lifting it up, intending to plunge it into the man’s skull from above when he purposefully backed up into a wall, harshly slamming Karliah against it in an attempt to get her off but she stayed on top of him, holding on for dear life as he continued this, slamming her against objects until finally she let go by accident, landing in the dirt but as he lifted his sword to cut into her, she had rolled over on her back, foot aimed direction at his crotch, and she didn’t hold back either, using all of her strength in that kick and as he stumbled forward a little in shock and utter agony she leaned up and stabbed him in the gut, stabbing him two more times before using the knife to flip the two of them over as she straddled him. She leaned down and cut his throat before getting up, just in time to see Arya expertly cut the back of Polliver’s legs as he headed for Sandor, who pinned a man against a post with a sword straight through his gut.

She watched hesitantly as Arya took a small step closer to Polliver as he laid in the dirt and dust.

“Something wrong with your leg, boy?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Can you walk? I’ve got to carry you?”

“Arry?” Karliah asked softly, the girl looking up at her aunt, a small pleading look in her eyes and Karliah hesitated, beginning to shake her head when Arya looked back at Polliver. “C-Carry me?” he asked but Arya didn’t answer, merely lifting her blade, as though inspecting it for the first time and that’s when Karliah realised it. This was how he killed her friend… and he’d done it with her sword…

“Fine little blade. Maybe I’ll pick my teeth with it” she stated as she lowered it, pointing directly at his neck and only when she saw recognition in his eyes did she slowly push it through his neck, watching him choke on his own blood as she pulled out the thin blade, cleaning off her blade with her sleeve, turning to look at her aunt who frowned at her with a light sigh. Karliah hesitated before stretching out her hand to Arya, waiting, a pleading look in her eyes and finally Arya sheathed Needle in her belt and stepped over Polliver’s corpse, taking her aunt’s hand and Karliah looked at Sandor before walking outside with Arya. When he found them, Arya was on top of a white horse, Karliah wiping her bloody hands on her trousers and when Sandor walked over, she handed him back his knife, clean and rid of blood, ready to be used and she smiled softly up at him. “Arya, look away” Karliah spoke without looking at her niece, who frowned and did as told with confusion. Once Karliah was sure that Arya wasn’t looking, she leaned up, wrapping an arm around Sandor’s neck, her lips meeting with his while her other hand slid his knife into it’s sheath. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her tightly against him as he kissed her back, Arya looking back at them to find out why she had to look away to begin with, only to cringe and look away “ew!” she gagged, Karliah parting from Sandor with amusement. “Told you” she teased before turning to Sandor again, studying his empty hands and she moved to walk back inside. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m still hungry and there’s perfectly good cooked chicken in there. Now get your horse. The brown one is mine” she shouted before walking inside, Sandor studying her as she walked off until he couldn’t see her anymore, looking up at Arya who smirked at him. “You heard her, get your horse” Arya ordered teasingly and he rolled his eyes, grumbling in annoyance as he walked over, got his horse and made the way back to where Arya was still sat atop her new horse that she wanted to fucking badly, though his mood was somewhat lifted, just a little bit, when Karliah came back outside with a chicken for each of them and a bag of gold, giving it to him “they said thank you, for the help” she said with a soft smile, handing the two chickens to her niece as she saddled up on the brown horse she’d chosen, leaning over and taking one of the chickens as Arya had already begun eating.

[onestepbackwards]

You need to get a life.

First of all, starting with the first paragraph. If Ace Anon has a problem with my writing, they can talk to me themselves. Sending you to talk to me makes me more upset than if they had reached out to me in DMs. Which they already had before. Sending you to me, and writing this, shows just how little either of you respect me. Next paragraph. As far as I am aware, I haven’t written any yandere character actually killing anyone, except with Warden Ingo one time. And it was an abusive ex who had stalked the Reader, and was threatening the Reader. The only other times I can think of would have been hypotheticals. Usually over people who would have hurt the reader, such as when there was the peeping tom incident. Stalking someone and peeping through windows is a choice. Not someone having a ‘bad day.’ However, in a lot of these scenarios, what little there are, the reader is unaware that anyone is being killed in the first place. Unaware their partner is a yandere. You also seemed to forget in the yandere warden Ingo series, the Reader actively tries to keep Ingo from murdering Volo. They don’t like him, but they don’t want him dead. So they appeal to Ingo’s sense of logic, claiming it could destroy the games code if he kills Volo. Even then, this is fiction. People requested this more than half the time. It is tagged, and in the cases where the Reader is into it, I have that tagged as well as the Reader enabling obsessive yandere behavior. Again, specific fiction that people are into, and specifically requested. And about the ‘how good that dick is’ comment. This is a blog where I write nsfw over pokemon characters. Of course dick is going to be a big factor, or did you forget what this blog is about? Third Paragraph. Not even sure how this is related AT ALL to the whole message, other than to try and make a dig at me, but fine, let’s address it. Yeah. In a dream, I pushed James from Silent Hill into a monster and ran. In a literal fever dream when I had been sick. “James did some shit, but really?” Yeah. He killed his sick wife. He killed her from being frustrated with not being able to have sex, and kept her body in the trunk of his car. Pyramid Head is literally his desire for punishment for these crimes. “What the fuck kind of good person does that?” I hate to be the barer of bad news, if you genuinely think that a person’s fever dream determines their status as a person, then you need to do some actual research on how dreams work. Not to mention how hypocritical this thinking is. You can give a pass to a guy who murdered his sick wife due to sexual frustration and anger, but you draw the line at a yandere character killing the Reader’s abusive ex? Okay. I see your priorities. Fourth paragraph. My Reader is selfish? How so? In at least half the things for Warden Ingo, it’s mentioned how the Reader desires to help him get his memories back, and make his brother aware like him. In another fic, with self aware Emmet, who ends up small, the Reader genuinely wants to help him reach his normal size. In another, the Reader desires to protect the Hero of Hisui, putting it over their desire for a relationship. They wish to protect the hero, and protect them as their own. Funny how you fail to bring these instances up. Is my Reader a flat character? Maybe. But again, this is a blog with primarily nsfw with the silly train men from pokemon. Fifth paragraph: “This is not hate. This is criticism.” No it’s not. You know damn well it’s hate. You insulted my writing, you insulted my reader inserts, and insulted me. “Your Reader has no empathy.” “Your Reader is selfish and has no redeeming qualities.” “What good person does that?” Those are not critiques. You call my writing bad, and say it has ‘all these problems’, but not once do you offer any advice for improvement. You just call it bad, and moved on. And again, insulted me over a dream. You don’t just get to insult me and my writing like this, then go “This isn’t hate, it’s a critique, tee hee!” That’s not how this works. Another thing. You acknowledge this is a fantasy land, and people here want to be adored. You acknowledge this is ‘fiction’. Yet you get so upset with the above points, when I’m specifically writing in a fictional set. You can’t have your cake and eat it. “It could be better.” Yeah! As a writer, I always aim to be better. But I don’t see you taking your ass off anon and writing your own shit, since you seem to have problems with mine so much. Only bitching about mine and then not offering any advice for improvement. And another thing. “It’s critique.” I never asked for critique. I do this shit for free. I write fanfiction as a hobby for free. I don’t have to share this. I do this because I enjoy sharing it with everyone here. I take time out of my day to share stuff I write, because other people do enjoy it, despite how bad of a writer you seem to think I am. It’s my blog, and I post what I want. It’s also considered rude to give unwanted ‘advice.’ Finally, the final paragraph: I didn’t answer your last entitled, manipulative, creepy message because I didn’t want to start drama, and I originally didn’t want to suck Ace Anon into whatever obsessive nonsense you were spewing. It was rude, entitled, narcissistic, manipulative, and weird. Just like this ask you sent.. “Hope you aren't gone again for months or something. You stressed her out really bad the last time.” Gee. Really feeling the concern for me, the one who disappeared. There are multiple reasons why I closed asks for a bit, primarily for my own mental health. Way to make it about you two. Funny. In the last ask, you mentioned how much you hate suicide baiting. What you are doing here isn’t too different. You just aren’t threatening a life over this. However, you are still trying to emotionally manipulate me, bringing up how Ace Anon is scared of upsetting me, and how stressed they were when I last disappeared. Lemme tell you something. Someone else’s stress isn’t my responsibility. If Ace Anon’s health and stress is heavily reliant on me, a stranger on the internet, someone who doesn’t even know Ace Anon’s name, that isn’t healthy. I understand being concerned for a creator to a degree, but if they are freaking out and getting stressed like this, especially over sending me these “problems” they have with my work, that is not my problem. If you two really are that easily affected by strangers on the internet, and get this upset over fanfiction written about silly train men from pokemon, neither of you should be on the internet. You two are not my responsibility, and I don’t have to cater to a rude anon with nothing better to do than send hateful asks. Harsh? Yes. But I’m not going to bend over backwards like this for someone like you. Neither you or Ace Anon are welcome back on this blog. Don’t message me again, and leave me alone.