#but also I have been told I’m too trusting so I’m hesitant to believe there wasn’t any actual malice intended

[mooseonahunt]

You’d think after the hate mail I get on here I’d have thick enough skin to take hate mail everywhere else and yet.

[iwritefandomimagines]

NO LONGER IN DENIAL

masterlist

pairing: anthony bridgerton x reader, bestfriend!benedict bridgerton x reader

description: anthony has made no secret of not wanting to marry, despite it being more than clear that he is head over heels in love with you, his “best friend”. benedict decides he is fed up of anthony’s denial, and takes matters into his own hands — by inciting jealousy from his older brother.

warnings: angst, jealous!anthony cos i’m a sucker for him hehe, benedict being a shit stirrer who i adore, fluffiness at the end <3

“Lady Y/N is joining us for dinner this evening, I believe,” Benedict hummed, a small smirk gracing his face as the eldest Bridgerton’s head snapped up, “Mother told me she hopes to, anyway.”

Anthony watched as his sisters fussed excitedly over seeing you, for it had been at least a week since you had graced Aubrey Hall with your presence and they missed you dearly.

Anthony had too, of course, though he’d never admit it was for any reason beyond how highly regarded you were in his family and how much he enjoyed your friendship.

“I very much look forward to seeing her,” Benedict continued, still smirking devilishly, “Though I did have the pleasure of bumping into her as she left Modiste yesterday.”

Anthony furrowed his eyebrows at his brother, “You didn’t tell me that, brother.”

“Must I share every occasion I see Lady Y/N with you, Anthony?” he quipped in reply, crossing his arms over his chest as Colin stifled a laugh, well aware of what was going on, “One might think you jealous.”

“Jealous? You jest, brother. She is my closest friend, I am simply surprised you would not mention even in passing that you saw her,” Anthony spoke through gritted teeth, “Regardless, I look forward to seeing her.”

“Ah, perfect timing!” Francesca grinned as Lady Y/N’s arrival was announced moments later, and in you walked with a gloriously bright smile on your face, though this faltered as you saw the bitter look on Anthony’s face.

“Is everything alright, my Lord?” you asked shyly, taking a few steps towards Anthony, whose expression softened at this, “Have we chosen a bad day to visit? If so I apologise—,”

Suddenly Benedict was at your side now, “It’s quite alright, my dear Lady Y/N. We are all pleased to see you. Might we take a turn about the room? We have some things to discuss!”

“No fair! You saw her yesterday, I want to show her my embroidery,” Hyacinth pouted, though Benedict raised his brow at her and flickered his eyes in Anthony’s direction as if to explain his actions.

Everyone in the family was well aware of the affection shared between you and Anthony, even if he dared not admit how he felt because of his apparent desire not to marry.

Benedict believed he just needed a push to see that you had myriad other options, and that he could only push away his feelings for so long.

“I’m sure Benedict has something important to share, my dear Hyacinth, but I would love to see your embroidery promptly after,” your voice was like honey to the eldest Bridgerton, who fought off the desire to make his own request for a moment of your time, “There is enough of me to go around! My brother will be arriving shortly, also.”

Benedict began whispering almost as soon as you had crossed the room, endeavouring to make you well aware of his plan so as not to cause any discomfort to you.

He didn’t wish for you to be confused by his sudden flirtation, so immediately indulged you with the details of his concocted plan to induce jealousy in his older brother that might finally allow him to be honest about his feelings.

With some hesitation, you accepted his plan.

Benedict was well aware of your feelings for his brother, and you knew this — after all, you had confessed it to him yourself because you trusted him dearly. Much to Anthony’s dismay, nowadays Benedict was your closest friend of all.

Anthony had once filled that role, but as each year passed and your youth slipped away, you had fallen far too in love with him to be so satisfied with a friendship as you were with Benedict.

Benedict was your best friend — Anthony was the love of your life.

Though he did not admit it, you were the love of his too. This is why Benedict’s interference was so necessary as far as the second Bridgerton son was concerned.

It was unfair for you to believe your love unrequited when it was merely his stubborn refusal to see beyond his ‘duty’ as Viscount and head of the household that prevented him from giving in to his feelings.

The plan seemed already to be working by the time you were seated for dinner, far closer to Benedict than to Anthony who sat at the other side of the table.

He scowled as he watched his brother gossiping with you, still irritated by both his earlier remark about seeing you yesterday and his persistence with being the only person in the room to maintain your attention.

“It is working, my dear friend,” Benedict beamed across at you, leaning forward to both better execute his plan and so that you could hear him better, “If looks could kill, my brother would have seen me long since dead and buried.”

You brought your hand to your mouth, hiding the giggle that escaped as you waited to calm before looking across at Anthony, “Benedict!”

You drew in a deep breath, composing yourself before glancing across at the Viscount and catching his eye immediately. His glare was suddenly no more, his lips curling up in a smile that sent your heart racing.

You mouthed a small “Hello,” to him, blushing crimson at the intensity of his stare. Despite the conversation going on around him, all he could do was look at you.

The staring contest you seemed to find yourself in was swiftly broken by Benedict’s voice calling your name again, returning you to conversation with him.

The rest of dinner passed much the same — small conversations here and there with the other Bridgertons, longing stares from an increasingly restless Anthony, and teasing comments from Benedict, who was certain that Anthony would be confronting you tonight.

“We should probably call for our carriage, I suppose,” you smiled sadly, disappointed with both how quickly the night had passed by and the fact you’d hardly spoken to Anthony throughout, “I’ve had such a lovely evening. I only wish I could stay longer!”

“You could!” Anthony exclaimed, an unusual outburst for the eldest sibling but one that made all at the table laugh as he rose to his feet, “We could have a room put up for you. It is late, and Wellsbury Hall is quite the distance.”

You bit your lip, smiling at him as he sat back down again, “Oh we couldn’t trouble you with that, my lord.”

“Perhaps my dear friend is right,” your brother disagreed, “It is getting late, and if it is no trouble we would be incredibly grateful. And I hope we might repay you with an invitation to Wellsbury in the near future? I hope to host a ball before the season ends so that my darling sister might finally find a husband.”

His eyes flickered between Benedict and Anthony for a moment and you realised that he must have been in on Benedict’s little plan.

You looked around the room cautiously at every smiling face, before settling your gaze on Anthony with a nod, “Very well then. I’d be delighted. The many childhoods spent staying here overnight are often much missed.”

Lady Bridgerton grinned, “Fantastic. Then it is settled,” she turned to the maids stood by the door, “Please prepare two rooms for our guests as quickly as possible. It is, after all, late, and I’m sure they will soon wish to rest.”

The way Anthony watched you for the rest of dinner made you impossibly nervous.

When the maids told you which rooms were readied, you stood to retire to bed, but not before Benedict offered to show you to the room as it was in his opinion the best decorated.

“Brother, I don’t believe it’s appropriate for you to show Lady Y/N to her room,” Anthony huffed, having had enough now of him being stuck to you like heavy-duty glue, “Perhaps you should allow one of our maids to kindly do so.”

“It is quite alright, Anthony. We are in the comfort of our own home, and I know Y/N quite well enough,” Benedict sing-songed, “Unless you would prefer to show her? The maids are quite busy clearing up.”

Anthony’s jaw clenched at his brother’s comment about knowing you ‘quite well enough’ and so he found himself at your side quickly.

“In fact yes, perhaps I should,” he agreed, a sternness in his tone you’d become used to again today. He was so much gentler with you, but today with you so seemingly far from him he has grown stoic again, “After all, I am the head of this household and you have not let me spend a minute with my closest friend, hm?”

Colin interjected now, aware of all eyes on the conversation, “Perhaps Lady Y/N can make the decision herself?”

“I—,”

“Fine, I concede,” Benedict raised his hands in surrender, “I suppose I’ve not let her leave my side this evening, though you cannot fault me for that. I will bid you goodnight, Y/N. Goodnight brothers.”

He took your hand in his, lifting it to his lips for just the gentlest of kisses to the back of it, before he bowed and quickly left the room.

With Anthony facing the other way, towards you, Benedict turned to shoot you a wink before leaving, and nerves bubbled in your gut at the unknown of what was to come.

The kiss to your hand was the final straw for Anthony, who linked his arm with yours and lead you out of the room without another word to anyone else.

You were silent for the walk, but once you stopped still outside of the room you were to sleep in Anthony turned to stand in front of you, his breathing jagged as his eyes searched your face for clues to why he was feeling so furious at your friendship with Benedict.

“Is my brother courting you?” he came right out and asked it, his chest heaving and yours doing so now too as you shook your head.

“Not at all, my lord,” you bit your lip again, before looking down at the ground to avoid his gaze.

He brought his index finger to your chin, lifting your face so that you were forced to look at him again, “And do you wish him to be?”

Again you shook your head, but his finger never left your skin for a moment.

“I was so sure—,”

“Forgive me, my lord, I have just been finding comfort in his friendship of late as I see him regularly about town,” you frowned, suddenly even more conscious of how little time you spent with Anthony in recent weeks.

He leaned ever so slightly closer, “Finding comfort in his friendship? And what of ours?”

“Our friendship, my lord? I—,”

“I apologise, Y/N, but I do not like to see you so close with my brother. Not least because of the fear of a scandal if others saw his behaviour,” he gritted his teeth, “He touches you too often. Leans too close to speak with you and it… it is misleading.”

You gulped, “Why would you be so infuriated by the notion of him courting me, my dear Anthony? He is your brother, and he cares for me. Even if it is not him I wish did so.”

He cocked his head in confusion now, before his eyes widened in realisation of his brother’s scheming. And in considering that, he realised that it had worked.

He’d never wanted to marry, and especially never for love.

But with you stood right there at his finger tips, smiling up at him nervously with a twinkle in your eyes, he threw caution to the wind and realised that you had changed that in him.

He could no longer deny his desire to hold you, to have you entirely as his, to make you his Viscountess.

“Who do you wish to treat you as such, my lady?”

“Surely you can see the answer for yourself, Anthony.”

“I simply wish to hear you say it. But if I must do so first, as a consequence of my foolishness in not seeing it sooner, then so be it. I dislike your closeness to my brother because I miss your attention being mine. I wish to have you at my side always, to laugh with you and dance with you and just talk with you all evening. I do not wish to see Benedict court you because I wish to do so myself.”

“Anthony—,”

“Please, my love, let me finish. I have most probably been in love with you for as long as I have known you, and yet chosen not to see it out of my own stubbornness. If not for my scheming devil of a brother, I might still be in denial. But I love you most ardently, Y/N. And if you feel at all the same then I should like to make you my wife. My viscountess.”

You were speechless, perhaps for one of the first times since meeting Anthony.

You had always told him everything, always saved your last dance for him at balls, always rooted for him in every game of Pall Mall even as his competitor.

And now here he was, the famously anti-marriage Viscount asking if you too wished to wed him.

“Anthony, I had hoped it was clear as day that I too have been unfathomably in love with you for longer than I can explain,” you blushed crimson again under his gaze as a smile spread across his face, “To marry you, well, would be the only way I might find joy in marriage. I know you’ve never sought a match, let alone a love match, but I love you most dearly, my dear Anthony.”

He captured your lips with his as soon as you stopped speaking, knowing that he shouldn’t do so but hoping nobody was around.

Besides, he would soon make you his wife, and he couldn’t contain the excitement.

“I know I’ve previously had my reservations but I am no longer in denial, and I’m sorry for taking my liberties with you by kissing you before we are wed but I could not help myself. And I wish to spend a lifetime kissing you, Y/N. Will you marry me?” he looked shy all of a sudden, which you had never seen before, and you grabbed both of his hands in yours to kiss them.

“Of course, my dear, there is nothing I would like more!”

His smile became impossibly wide, and once more he kissed you out of sheer excitement.

“I’m sorry that this was so abrupt, and I have yet no ring. But my mother will be ecstatic and I plan to give you her betrothal ring because— you are the only woman worthy. And I shall spend our whole life ensuring that I make up for taking so long to do this,” he was vulnerable now, still shy under your careful gaze,

“I had no desire to marry because I had no desire to put the woman I love through the pain of losing me like my mother did my father. She was distraught but— I see now that it is no good wasting time with this fear. However long I might live, I wish to spend those years loving you and making you happy, so that any pain might be worthwhile.”

You kissed him now, tearing your gloves from your hands and reaching up to cup his face and kiss him, “I love you, Anthony Bridgerton. Always. And I cannot wait to be your wife. It will be the greatest honour.”

You were both hot and flustered, and it was taking everything in him not to push open your bedroom door and sweep you off your feet.

But for you, he was a gentleman, and so he settled for one final kiss atop your head and a sweet goodnight.

“We shall tell the others as we break fast tomorrow, perhaps?” you could see the dizzy joy in Anthony’s eyes as he asked this of you, and you nodded profusely.

“I cannot wait, my dear.”

“Then I will bid you good night, my love. I will dream of you, and look forward to seeing you in the morning. Sleep well, my future viscountess.”

“Sleep well, my love.”

As you went to part, you heard a rustle a little way down the corridor, both looking up to see a smug Benedict smirking, leaning on the wall just down the hallway.

“Even I underestimated my own plan. Congratulations, brother. You finally saw sense.”

———

hello! i know this is completely random as i’ve been writing for djats lately but i has this idea and felt the neeeeed to write it. feel free to request more bridgerton fics, as i’m inspired at the moment and rewatching it.

in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

[adonis-koo]

wicked • 17

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 8k

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Note: it’s actually difficult to believe it’s been eight months since I’ve updated, went through two jobs, a friend group and a boyfriend who gaslit the absolute fuck out of me and made me experience female hysteria 😍 I wrote this chapter the night he broke up with me so it just has that nice little extra touch of ✨ intensity ✨ enjoy lovies and I will be back hopefully sooner then last time with another update

It felt wrong, packing a small case of clothes while so many things at the castle had yet to play out, and Wheein’s life was hanging in the balance of it.

You had no intentions to trudge your way to the barracks but here you were; early morning where all of the guards were training and the person you were looking for was watching them, hands on his hips as he called out to one of them to tighten their guard.

You hadn’t planned on talking to him today, but leaving without so much as saying a word felt wrong, and perhaps after everything that had happened you were searching for sober reassurance.

“Jungkook.”

Everybody froze at the sound of your voice, you ignored all the eyes on you, after having lived in Penumbra for almost a year, you had somewhere along the way gotten used to all of the eyes that constantly followed you.

The guards exchanged awkward glances with one another, Jungkook looked surprised by your appearance, eyes glancing over you as if you were a hallucination, but after a moment it was evident you weren’t going to disappear upon blinking.

He glanced between you and the guards before he waved them off, “Keep going.”

You couldn’t stand the hopeful look in his eyes, almost a bit bashful as you walked in line with him further away from the barracks, “How can you expect me to leave the castle when Wheein is in a dungeon? And furthermore sending your aunt to try and reconcile with me?”

Jungkook frowned, “Well I doubted you wanted to see me after my drunk display- which truth be told I hardly remember anything I said, and It’s probably for the best that I don’t, Y/n…” He sighed as he stopped, “It was only a suggestion, it crossed my mind about the estate because truthfully I think you would like it there, and it would be safe,” His hands tenderly grabbed your shoulders as your lips curled in anger but you said nothing, “And I think it would be good for you to put all of this out of your head for a few days. I’ll continue to handle things here and if things change with Wheein trust that I’ll be able to take care of it.”

Your expression didn’t change as Jungkook frowned, “I would also like to remind you that she’s been one of my closest friends since I was a child. You’re not the only one who cares for her.”

You begrudgingly looked away from him but your expression softened, a stab of guilt surging through your stomach at the realization that he was very much right, “I know, I’m sorry I just-”

“Don’t be,” Jungkook replied, “You have a mean bite but I can appreciate your loyalty. I can’t undo the past but I want to make things right. I…” Jungkook paused, looking hesitant his eyes darting away from you and then back to you once more.

You offered no words forcing him to sigh, as if it was difficult for him to admit, “I want to be with you Y/n, not as two people amicable due to marriage or friends on uneasy terms…” He bit down on his cheek, unable to hold your steely gaze as his hand hesitantly reached out, tenderly stroking along your jawline, “I want more than that with you, I want all of the fire and all of the rage, I want the pain, the hardships. I want you, all of you, every flaw that makes you, you.”

You hadn’t even realized your eyes had blurred until his thumbs were tenderly pushing your tears away, “Is this a declaration?”

“It’s a promise.” Jungkook’s eyes held such a softness in them filled with something you still felt uncertain to assume, “You told me that you wanted to bear the deepest parts of yourself to me, all of your insecurities, the parts you don’t like about yourself, the parts you may even hate, so I am standing here to tell you to show me, show me all of it, and I will still take you as you are.”

He was saying many overwhelming words to you, but you knew he was dancing around the most important word, you could see it in his eyes, how it lingered on the tip of his tongue.

But something was stopping him from truly confessing it.

Perhaps even after all of these months, it was still too soon.

Evidently so given your circumstances.

“I don’t want you away from me,” Jungkook admitted, a frown slowly forming on his lips, “But if that’s what it takes, I would wait a lifetime if it meant your forgiveness, if it meant a second chance to be with you.”

“Is that why you’re willing to send me away?” You sniffled, “Otherwise you’ll continue to drink and wake me up in the middle of the night?”

“It wasn’t my finest moment,” Jungkook gave a weak smile, “But you can’t deny it got my point across didn’t it?”

Just his smile made something in you crumble, a vast desire to embrace him here and to forgive him, surely you could put this all behind you…?

But a bigger part of you didn’t want to rush this, you didn’t want to be complacent anymore, that was how you got into this situation, how you immediately jumped to Claudin’s offer rather than confide in the person you were married to.

It was such a raw feeling, you could feel it licking at your very soul, trying to tame your desire to throw all caution to the wind once more.

And for a brief moment you could feel Jungkook have the same reaction as you, as if it took every fiber in his being to not beg you to stay, you don’t know if you could stand your ground against him again if he came on as strong as he had last night.

“Just for a few days.” You whispered out as he frowned, giving you an understanding nod.

“You’ll love it there.” His hands finally let go of you, somewhat reluctantly.

And then it was silent for a long moment, tension still lingering in the air and both of you clearly hesitant.

“Then…I’ll see you in a few days.” You mumbled and Jungkook nodded once more. It felt like the ground was trying to engulf your feet as you turned around, feeling oddly empty at your goodbye, waiting for something that wouldn’t come.

What was it you had hoped for? A hug…?

Maybe a kiss…?

But then again, it felt as though you were no longer deserving of those things, Jungkook may have done things to hurt you but you had also done things to hurt him, how could you both love one another if you couldn’t trust one another first?

You wished Jungkook had reached out for you, to at least give you some form of affection before leaving, but he also knew this was true, and let you leave with no grief.

It left you feeling empty inside, but this was for the best.

You journeyed over horseback for the day, trying to leave your fretting heart behind as you nervously glanced back at the far away sight of the castle, what if something developed with Wheein?

You felt as though you were betraying her just by leaving, more than anything you were desperate to get her back, perhaps that was why Jungkook was sending you away, as if he sensed your desperation would only heighten the longer this went on.

Dare you say, he feared the worst might happen if you stayed.

Your grip tightened on your reigns, once more trying to put it out of your mind, taking a deep breath you took in the heady scent of the pine tree’s the surrounded you, the Estate was much closer to the mountains then you had anticipated, by midday you had journeyed far enough that snow had already reached the ground.

“Are you nervous?” Yoongi had slowed his horse down to ride next to you, his eyes however still scoured ahead for possible danger.

“What do you mean?” You frowned as you glanced at his back, hearing a branch snap as your eyes darted towards the left of him.

Your faithful companion Fenrir having accidentally broke the branch he had been carrying in his mouth the past hour he had grown fond of, a whine leaving him in disappointment as he picked up the bigger side.

“Journeying away from the castle during these trying times…” Yoongi glanced back at you, a frown of his own, “It can’t be easy leaving with everything that’s happened.”

You didn’t reply for a long moment, Yoongi slowed down to ride beside you as he curiously took in your expression.

It was silent for a long moment before you finally relented, “It is difficult, but…After a long night, I figured this was probably best. It seems like my involvement in things only tends to make them worse. And truthfully there's no telling what lengths I’d go to at this point to get Wheein back.”

“Oh?” Yoongi looked curiosity once more, “I didn’t realize you had such a taste for danger.”

His joke made a smile finally tug on your lips, “Neither did I before coming to Penumbra. It seems this kingdom has a way of bringing out the primitive nature in me. But then again, it seems people have always looked down on me when I think of it.”

“On you?” Yoongi scoffed in amusement, “Dryad Matron of Eunoia? It’s difficult to believe, you’re like a pillar of light to the commonwealth of Penumbra, it used to drive the Prince nuts during your engagement.”

“It did…?” You peered somewhat hesitantly at him.

This made Yoongi grin, “Oh yes, when news of your engagement first broke out it had the people ecstatic, it had him gagging every second he heard good things of you.”

“This is hardly making me feel better…” You winced, though a small part of you was amused to hear this, though you wish you could say the same.

It always seemed to you that people in Penumbra didn’t fully grasp just how much people feared them on the outside world, instead poking fun at the titles they had earned as if it was a little joke.

The whole two years of your engagement are two years you’d rather die then live through again, the anxiety that kept you up at night, the endless amounts of tears you cried, the emptiness it left inside you how no one even tried to comfort you.

Looking back you understood, nobody wanted to feed you lies to comfort you, but at the time, you didn’t understand, it felt cruel.

“Not everyone feels that way about me, evidently from what I saw in the Underside.” You replied, somewhat reminiscing on the horrendous memory of the mock version of you.

“You shouldn’t pay that any mind,” Yoongi scoffed, “The humor is juvenile there, everything it stands for is juvenile, even it’s name; the Underside was a joke, a mockery meant for every royal that has to say it’s name with seriousness, point being- they don’t respect anyone who won’t give them money.”

You only shook your head, “It’s not just that though, there has always been a small part of people and court alike who haven’t liked me, even long before I was engaged to Jungkook. I was known for having a temper,” It made you smile wryly, “-The Bitch of Eunoia, that’s what they ran around calling me behind my back. It was horrendous in Kimhae.”

“Was it now?” Yoongi looked amused by this, “That in some ways does, and doesn’t surprise me.”

“The court ladies in Eunoia often liked to call me that as well. But it was very pronounced by Kimhae court men. When I was younger, I used to wear traditional Eunoian attire when i’d visit. Apparently shoulders and knee’s used to drive them crazy. I had one of the aristocrats boldly ask me if I was an exotic woman of the night, willing to pay for me.”

Yoongi’s jaw had dropped making you laugh as he gestured you on, “What did you say?”

“Something along the lines of calling him a perverted old man whom ought to have his loins cut off for making such a comment to a women- let alone a Princess.” The memory made you smile as you shook your head, “The Bitch of Eunoia…why is it men are allowed to be angry Yoongi? Why is it women are shamed so?”

Yoongi let out a hum, “This is indeed a good question, but perhap it’s because they know a woman's scorn could even bring heaven out of the sky. I’m not all too surprised about Kimhae- but you said Eunoians called you this as well?”

Your smile became saddened, “By many court ladies yes,” You scratched your cheek in thought, “I was always lonely as a child…the war took a toll on me, I was temperamental and childish. But the court ladies as children, also liked to mock me and egg me on. As we grew older they grew closer and I still stayed a distance away. They’d find any reason to pick me apart or give me more work to do. They were practically leaping for joy when the news broke that I was engaged.”

“Why do you think that was though?” Yoongi asked, “That they didn’t like you?”

You shrugged, you had never really thought about it much, rather you preferred to keep the past where it was rather then dwell on it, “I suppose it had a lot to do with the fact that while we were all training to be healers I excelled more at it, it came naturally to me and they ended up putting me in the tents before the others. They all assumed it was from favoritism…Maybe it was,” You pondered on this briefly, “I just remember thinking it wasn’t fair.”

“Fair?”

You didn’t elaborate on the word for a long moment, feeling something akin to guilt bubble in your stomach.

You glanced off into the distance where the mountains towered high, it made you feel so tiny in comparison to its greatness, and briefly you felt awe.

You always admired nature, how vast it was compared to you and all your humanly troubles, you turned to it and it’s kin when you needed comfort and in these moments you could turn to it when you were also troubled with words.

It was difficult to adequately explain to people the rage you had felt since you were a child, anger had always been in your bones, from the moment you were born. Your mother used to tell you, that when she gave birth, you had come out of her womb with a roaring cry.

You craved to be vulnerable, to be soft and tender, to be all the things you were not, and you were many things, just not those.

Many people people heard you, they just never listened, didn’t understand.

“I had a lot of resentment as a child, to everything, the war, my parents, our country. I didn’t want to be a healer, I didn’t want to have to watch people in my care die, I didn’t want to attend the burnings or hear the whales of agony and pain, the cries of mourning, the people who blamed me for not being able to save their loved ones.”

You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel haunted by those memories, watching the lifeforce leave someone's body as you tried to stop the bleeding, the maimed limbs and mangled bodies that were beyond your skill or help.

“I didn’t want to be made to go past our lesson times to keep studying, or made to go back in to practice when all the other girls were allowed to play. Or put in a tent over night while they all slept. It wasn’t fair.”You mumbled, perhaps still a lingering tone of resentment.

The past was the past, it couldn’t be changed, you had come to terms with this, but if you stopped and really thought about it, old feelings old eventually begin to resurface, it was why you tried so desperately to just forget about it.

At one time you blamed Penumbra, you hated it’s people for what they did, what they caused.

But then you married Jungkook and you journeyed here yourself, and saw with your own eyes, that these people, were simply people, who were also victims of their own royalty.

You felt the soft grip of a hand on your shoulder, “I am sorry, for what it’s worth,” Yoongi held a face of sympathy, “We all felt the same, or…I suppose a mutual feeling on the opposite side of things. Children being forced to enlist into a war we didn’t want to wage with little choice…”

You gently grabbed his hand giving it a small squeeze, a weak smile on your face, “It wasn’t fair for any of us. We’re all a bi-product of our parents' sins. It’s up to us now to break that cycle.”

You had arrived to the estate by nightfall and it was shrouded in tall pine and fir trees, the aroma had you closing your eyes for a moment to savor it, just as Jungkook said, it truly was beautiful.

Snow covered the ground in a few inches, and a chill was left in your bones, but you settled in rather nicely, Yoongi had managed to get a fire going rather quickly and it was quiet in the solitude of the estate.

For once, it was nice to be able to breathe without being watched.

The first two days had went by surprisingly quick, but you had found a natural rhythm in nature, you went on long peaceful walks, kept yourself wrapped in a blanket while sitting on the terrace taking in the crisp cool air.

You had even spent the evening watching the snowfall outside, enchanted at how it came in big fluttering puffy balls, you had heard of snow before, but you had never actually seen it fall from the sky, like a thousand little gifts from the heavens.

It was dull and gray out today, the same as it had been for the last week now, at the estate was unsurprisingly no different.

Today however you had Yoongi set up some haybales in the pit area where guards would typically be trained, it was run down now, old boxes used as storage had been broken down and were hazardously strewn everywhere, long nine inch rusty nails sticking out of wooden pieces at razor sharp jagged angles.

But with Yoongi’s help you both had piled it up safely away and got a decent bit of space ready for training.

“Too stiff-”

“Ah!”

It was a second too late, you had already released the string, sending the arrow flying, it had veered off target as the string slapped your forearm with a sharp snap causing you to drop it.

Fenrir suddenly popped up from the ground where he had been laid out the last half hour, head cocked in concern at the noise that escaped you.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Yoongi groaned, “You can’t hold it with a stiff arm! Look at this!” He got up from his spot as he held up your arm by the wrist, “It looks like somebody gave you a lashing! Jungkook will have my head if it isn’t heal by tomorrow.”

Your lips twisted into a sulky pout, “I am trying!”

“Not hard enough that’s the fifth time within the hour,” Yoongi whistled out as he let you go, Fenrir walking up to you as he sniffed your hand, giving it a lick before nudging it.

You rubbed your forearm, that was undeniably sore and throbbing with pain before placing your hand on Fenrir’s head to give it a nice long rub.

He had grown remarkably big in the last month, almost as big as you now, just a five or six inches shorter, it made you give a sad frown, at how big he was and soon he’d become a monstrous size…

You’d simply have to build a bigger stable you supposed.

“Aim comes naturally but holding a weapon does not,” You sighed as you placed both your hands on Fenrir’s head, now giving him generous rubs and pats that had him giving a toothy puppy grin that made you smile, “I’ve practiced here and there with a bow but with everything going on, I just haven’t made it a priority.”

Yoongi sighed, “Natural ability will only get you so far, discipline if a far greater advantage Princess, thankfully we can start working on this daily, I think it’d be good for you to have a hobby.”

“I have hobbies.” You frowned as crossed your arms.

“Such as…?” Yoongi gestured.

“Well…” You could think of several as a matter of fact, but you had given them all up once you had moved to Penumbra, the thought made you frown in realization, you had been so caught up in all the highs and lows of your new life that it was true.

You had hobbies, you just never participated in any of them.

“I suppose it would do me some good to work on it,” You sighed as you relented, “I still feel a tad guilty though, shouldn’t I be honing my skill in swordsmanship? Jungkook once told me that it’s expected the Crowned Prince and Princess are supposed to be the best at it.”

“Well…” Yoongi stretched the word, “This is true but, I don’t think somebody is going to fault you for not being the best at it. I’d like to think it’s an expectation from those born in Penumbra, not those who marry in. Not only this but if you are inclined to another form of weaponry, then it’s as simple as that.

“As long as you have some form of sword training then it’ll do,” Yoongi shrugged, “What matters is personal protection, some training is better then none, but having a form of training you’re good at is even better.”

“You Penumbrian’s certainly like taking precautions.” You sighed wistfully as you picked up your bow once more.

“The more the better,” Yoongi said, “Guards are great, but what happens when you’re caught without any? Learning to defend yourself is vital.”

You glanced down at your bow, “I understand but…”

“But?” Yoongi asked.

“Well, I suppose a part of me just feels odd,” You replied, “I grew up being taught to save lives, not take them,” You rubbed your neck in uncertainty, “When I took the Dryad’s oath, it was a promise to myself and my ancestors that I would abstain from our carnal nature. That I would never take a life nor would I consume its flesh. Animal or human. Even though the chances of me having to defend myself in such a way are so low, it’s odd to train for it, after taking that oath and living by it my whole life.”

Yoongi let out a small smile, “Then don’t view it as such.”

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head.

“Sword play is considered an art form in Penumbra, you can view a bow in the same light. It’s quite a beautiful thing really, it’s not just aiming and shooting, it’s how you hold it, the type of arrow you use, the weight of your feet. A lot goes into it.”

You thought on this for a while before nodding, “I suppose you are right.”

“Min Yoongi! I’m looking for a Min Yoongi?”

A voice called out that had you both glancing around the courtyard before seeing the courier at the gates glancing around before meeting his gaze.

“Yes?” Yoongi called out, walking up to meet him.

“I have a letter for you sire! It was urgent from the court” The courier dug through his bag before handing it to him, giving a short bow to you and then departing.

You glanced at it anxiously as you exchanged a look with Yoongi, was this about Wheein?

Yoongi opened the letter, reading it before he sighed,

“What, what is it?” You asked, anxiety in your voice.

“It’s not about Wheein,” You let out a breath in relief as Yoongi continued, “But it is a request for help.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

Yoongi sighed, “There’s a watchtower just east of here, about an hour away give or take on horseback, apparently they’ve been dealing with a gang of bandits up there. Supposedly they’re going to siege the tower.”

“They can do that?” You asked in surprise.

Yoongi shrugged, “I suppose so, I don’t know what they think I can do about it.”

“Well you said you were an assassin before you became a knight? So surely that counts for something.” You said, setting down your bow on a lonely bale of hay.

Yoongi sighed as he folded the letter back up, “Even so, I won’t just leave you here by yourself.”

You frowned, “It’s only us here, and it’s secluded so I won’t be in any real danger, and you said it was only an hour away. I doubt you’d take long in taking them down.”

“Are you just trying to get rid of me?” Yoongi asked in mild amusement.

“I would never!” You said, “But I’d hate to see something unfortunate happen that could be prevented, you’re far closer then someone is to the castle. It would make the most sense for you to go.”

Yoongi sighed, “Even if I’m over cautious, it doesn’t sit right leaving you here all by yourself.”

“I wouldn’t be alone!” You replied, grinning as you gave Fenrir a solid pat, “Fenrir will defend me! Jungkook and I have been working on commands. Sit!”

Fenrir immediately complied.

“Very fierce.” Yoongi said dryly.

You held up a finger, grabbing a piece of wooden box that was free of any nails off the ground, “Fenrir,” He perked up at his name, “Attack!” You threw it causing his gaze to follow it with a loud snarling howl, his jaws crunching the board in half immediately grabbing the smaller end.

Running back to you before dropping down on his front paws, tail wagging as he tried to get you to chase him.

Yoongi looked a bit more startled at the thick board of wood that had been crushed as he nodded, “Okay, a little more fierce than before…” Yoongi thought about it for a long moment, “I suppose if I left now I would make it back by supper….Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

You gave him a small smile, “It’s only a few hours, I think I’ll be able to manage.”

Yoongi still seemed hesitant but he nodded, “I’ll go gather a few things then and be off. The sooner I leave the sooner I’ll be back.”

“It’s one night,” You smiled, “And then we’ll be back at the castle tomorrow.”

You had waved Yoongi off before you continued on with your day.

Spending another few hours training with your bow you had eventually given up once the string of your bow hit a particularly sensitive spot on your forearm.

The rest of your day had been spent taking walks along the trail’s with Fenrir before eventually settling inside, roaming the halls and exploring empty rooms.

And eventually the afternoon came.

But slowly the sun began to set and a vague feeling of dread followed along with it.

Yoongi…would’ve been back by now, right?

Or perhaps it took him longer to clear out the bandits.

You nodded at this as you stayed curled up in your large chair, Fenrir curled up beneath your feet as he let out a sigh, as if sensing your discomfort and unsatisfied with it.

Continuing to read, time went on and soon the sun had set.

You had managed to get a fire going on your own and had lit the candles in the hall, making the estate feel less consuming then it had before but it didn’t quell your anxiousness as the hour went on later.

Yoongi would certainly be back by now…

You were certain you’d manage the commute back to the castle if you had too but…You wouldn’t feel right just leaving without him, but you also had no way of sending a message to the castle for help without going back yourself.

You felt at a loss for what to do, as you roamed the main hall, pausing at the sound of the gate opening. Opening the doorway you hurried out to the courtyard.

“Yoongi, I’ve been waiting all day, you worried me sick!” You stopped short at the sight ahead of you.

“Not who you were expecting?”

Di Jin’s smug smile was the last thing you saw before the sudden blow to your head caused your vision to go dark.

“You look lost.” Jimin commented as he plopped in a seat right next to his dearest friend, both sat out for breakfast on the terrace.

“Was it a good idea sending her to the Estate?” Jungkook stared down in hard contemplation, his food untouched, “If something happens I won’t be able too…!”

He inhaled sharply as he forced himself to lean back in his chair, but despite the motion his body refused to relax.

You had left two days ago and he felt a void ever since.

Jungkook didn’t realize how much your presence had filled every inch of the castle until you had left, and now, he felt utterly useless, it was one thing for you to be mad at him, it was another for you to be gone.

Jimin looked amused but felt bad for him nonetheless, “Nothing is going to happen to her, the estate is nice and tucked away, the entire court has forgotten about it anyways, it hasn’t been used in years. You did a good thing.”

“Did I?” Jungkook finally slumped.

He had been constantly replaying his last memory of you, the conversation you both had before you left, the memory of you looking up at him for a long moment as if silently yearning for some form of affection.

It left Jungkook’s hands twitching and an unfamiliar ache in his chest, he couldn’t even describe how it felt. And he was honest when he spoke with you the night before, true he didn’t remember much, but what he did remember was straight from his heart, he thought he knew many things.

But after meeting you he found out quickly that he knew nothing at all.

Tomorrow, surely you’d be back tomorrow. You hadn’t given him an exact timeframe, but surely when you said a few days, you had meant no more then three?

“What if I-”

“No.” Jimin cut him off, “The whole point of her going was to get out of the castle and by default away from you. Not only that but what if something happened to Wheein while you were gone?”

Jungkook sunk back in his chair, that was right…He had promised you he would take care of anything that might possibly happen.

He wouldn’t let you down.

“Have you found any evidence yet?” Jungkook lowered his voice, his gaze lingering on the far side of the table where Claudin had been dining with a group of court ladies.

Jimin frowned, “Yes but the problem is getting it open,” He huffed, “I was able to slip into his room last night, it was empty but he has a lock box beneath a hollowed broken floorboard piece, seems he was in a hurry when he left, otherwise it wouldn’t have been left afar.

“Regardless I haven’t been able to crack the lock. Whatever is in there, it has a master’s lock on it. I’ll need at least another dozen picks before I even come close to cracking it.”

Jungkook sighed as he shook his head in disdain, “Of course when we need Yoongi he’s gone.”

Their elder would be able to open it within the hour if he was here.

Jimin frowned as well, “I’ll try again this afternoon.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, “That’s early for you.”

“We’re running out of time Jungkook,” Jimin sighed, sinking back into his chair as well, eyeing Claudin with a certain wryness, “I keep hearing stirrings from the guards about how they’ve narrowed their search, but they’re hellbent on saying it was Wheein.”

“Sire,”

They both paused at the sight of Taehyun, a frown on his face as he glanced between them both, an anxious look as he bowed slightly, “It’s the council…they’ve summoned you. It doesn’t sound good, you should come as well Jimin.”

Jungkook glanced at his friend but said nothing as he stood up, not liking this one bit.

The walk to the throne room was swift and Jungkook wasted no time in arriving, the other council members had just arrived as well.

Clearly he wasn’t the only one uncertain of what was going on, other members had started hushing whispers to one another, all glancing in Jungkook’s direction occasionally as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he glanced at the empty throne the seats on its left occupied by his aunt and uncle whispering to one another.

They both glanced at him once before quickly looking away.

The tension felt suffocating and the longer it lasted the more anxious Jungkook felt, seconds turned into minutes and the whispers began to get louder.

And all within a moment, the doors open and a sweepingly silence took over the room save for the sound of boots against the ground. Dae Seong walked with confience in every step before standing before everyone on the throne.

“It is with confidence I have come to announce something of the utmost importance,” His voice boomed, “The attempted assassination on our Crowned Princess, was indeed committed by her maid Jung Wheein, we have reason enough to believe it was her as all the evidence points as such. Her form of punishment will be burning at the stake, tonight at the height of the moon. I ask you all join me on this divine distribution of punishment,”

Groaning softly your vision was blurry at first, and the first person to appear in your vision was not who you expected.

“Not so quick witted now are you Eunoian Bitch,” Seohyun sneered, her smirking figure beneath you as your vision of her doubled.

Your mind was confused as you only remembered Di Jin being here, your eyes closed briefly only for a sharp pain to spread through your side that you recognized as being kicked in the side by her.

Groaning your eyes opened and her eyes beaded, sneering at you as another voice spoke, “Come along now Seohyun, why don’t you go see if that insufferable knight has managed to come back yet, I will finish our business here.”

She eyed you warily but said no more as she left and soon Di Jin stood in front of you, “You have truly been a pain in my ass since I was enlisted to kill you, I only hope you realize that.”

There was no remorse in his eyes as he pulled the wickedly curved knife from it’s sheath and a sadistic smile curled on his face, “Don’t worry Princess, i’ll make sure you have a slow miserable death.”

Despite your sluggish movements, adrenaline had shot in your veins as you realized you were about to die, you had too much to live for still. You needed to see what would come of Eunoia, you needed to make sure Wheein was okay, that you would keep your promise to Jungkook.

You couldn’t die, and you would fight if it meant living to see it.

Your mind was slowly coming out of it’s haze as Di Jin stepped closer to you, realizing you were in the courtyard near the hay bales, the pile you had cleaned early next to you, your arm reached over to grab one of the planks, three long rusted nails sticking out of it.

You swung it with as much force as you could towards his legs, it made contact, the nail piercing his skin with a wet noise as he cried out in pain, falling back on the ground as he growled out. “You dumb bitch, a pain until the end!”

You attempted to crawl away, heart pounding in your ears as you scurried but he was still too mobile, yanking the plank out of his leg with a growl of pain as he managed to get on top of you, you caught his wrists as he attempted to plunge the knife in your throat, “I’ll enjoy watching the life leave your eyes. I’ll be sure to bring your head back for your little husband to see one last time.”

Your strength was already failing as you winced out, the knife slowly coming closer to your skin as you whimpered out as it pierced the first layer of your flesh.

It was an indescrible pain that had you yelping in pain,

“I’ll make these last few moments the most excruciating and perhaps if you beg me enough, I might just end your pathetic little life girl,” Di Jin grinned leaning in closer, “Maybe if you beg me more i’ll give you a little more than just a long death.”

He pushed the knife a little deeper as blood spilled from your skin making you cry out, his body weighing heavier on yours and his lips suddenly pressing to your ear, “Something tells me you’d prefer that over this.”

Something about his lips pressing against your skin lit something primal inside of you, every sense heightened inside you as your lips parted taking a wide bite into his neck, you could taste it first, the metallic flavor of blood running across your tongue and dripping down your throat and then his skin was next, uncomfortably soft and tender and next was the cartilage, it was rubbery and had hard bits in it, next was the sensation of something warm and wet against your face.

Di Jin could no longer properly speak, his grip suddenly loosened on the knife as you yanked the large chunk of flesh straight from his neck, grabbing the knife as you yanked it away shoving him down as you managed to get on top of him.

The chunk missing from his neck was ghastly, blood pooling on the ground, oozing everywhere and squirting from various places and he was gagging loudly, choking on his own blood.

Anger trembled in your body, it wasn’t enough, even with chunks of flesh missing and blood covering your face, skin hanging and cartilage visible it still wasn’t enough, before you could even think you plunged the knife into his neck, eyes blurring as you watched him gurgle, choking on his own blood as the life left his eyes.

Your hands were shaking as you waited for him to jump back to life to kill you, and then you slowly realized your vision was blurred from tears, your heart pounding as you took a shaky breath yanking the knife out of his neck before you let out blood curdling scream slamming it back in his neck again.

Jungkook’s betrayal.

Wheein being taken.

Exiled from your own kingdom.

Being forced to wed.

Made into a healer as a child.

Bone.

Blood.

Ash.

The mourning bells rang in your head and you could vividly taste the metallic on your tongue stronger than ever as the taste of raw flesh lingered in your throat.

Blood splattered upward as you stabbed the spot over again, all of the rage searing in your veins as Di Jin’s form became disfigured, his neck nearly separating his head from his body as you shoved the knife in deeper.

Hearing the wet gurgling noise as you heaved a breath, staring at his cold dead eyes staring back at you, the next scream was not your own, but it came closer within seconds before the door to the estate opened.

Seohyun was heavily bleeding from her left thigh, sporting a large bite as a loud snarl came from inside the door, shakily you stood up, “Fenrir, wait.”

The large wolf paused, and that's when you noticed the large gash on his leg, causing him to limp, rage quelled in your veins again as you limped over, Seohyun looked pale a ghost at the sight of you.

From the moment this woman met you, she had given you nothing but grief, attempted to humiliate you, belittle you, try to win a lost battle, attempt to kill you, and now she had hurt your precious companion.

Even with a mangled body behind you, it still wasn’t enough.

Tripping over her own two feet she fell down as you walked over, “We can talk about this Y/n!” Her eyes were as big as saucers, “Please! I’ll leave Penumbra and- and never come back.”

You felt nothing for her as you stood above her, watching pathetic tears drip down her face for a long moment, finally you knelt down, “If Penumbra has taught me anything Seohyun, It’s that some people do not deserve my forgiveness, nor my kindness.”

Her lips parted rapidly, her throat scratchy, and for the first time, you saw genuine fear in her eyes, “B-but you’re a Eunoian,”

Her words were pointed, bargaining, pleading even- if you listened close enough, “Eunoian’s don’t kill.”

Your lips slowly lifted into a joyless smile as you let out an uneasy laugh, “Well,” Your smile dropped, your hands were still shaky, unbridled rage still taunt in your veins.

The primal urge of need to prove her wrong, prove all of them wrong, that you would never again be looked down upon as weak or underestimated.

Your hand grabbed her neck, causing her to let out a choked sob as you squeezed it tight enough to choke her airway, yanking her nearly nose to nose with you.

“We’re not in Eunoia, are we?” Your nails dug into her neck, not stopping until you felt the blood from her skin oozing, you shoved her back before you stood up, ignoring her blubbering, tears trickling down her face as you walked away, “Fenrir.”

“Please!”

He let out a growl, “Attack.”

Her cries of agony were left of deaf ears as you walked back over to the corpse of Di Jin grabbing the knife from his neck and yanking it out before taking the sheath that went with it, adjusting it on your waist.

Collapsing on the ground away from him you noticed your hands for the first time, shaking, trembling as your vision blurred once more, scarred and covered in blood, just what had you done?

Fenrir’s mouth was covered in blood, but the whine didn’t escape your ears as he tenderly tried to sit down in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You ushered, grief strong in your voice though uncertain of who it was for, yourself, your country, your companion, you reached out for him, gently rubbing your hand down his neck, “But we have a long journey ahead of us Fenrir.”

The bells were ringing and a somber air had taken over, Jungkook had nearly lost his entire wits, his father had banished him from the room, not wanting to hear another word from him about this.

Being told he was too sentimental fell on deaf ears, he didn’t care, it was his friend, it was injustice, it was corrupt. He hated it, he hated that despite being the crowned prince, his son, his father simply didn’t care.

All Jungkook could do was wait for Jimin to unlock this damn box. But it felt as though it was too late, he was banned from so much as leaving his room, guards at his door there to keep him boxed in but this wouldn’t stop him.

pulling the cloak over his head, he opened the window, the bricks were jagged and uneven enough that he could easily climb down, he did it often when he was younger, much to the blindness of his father.

Scaling the wall, Jungkook got down, feet planted firmly on the ground as he kept the hood over his head tight as he made his way to the courtyard. A crowd had gathered, all wanting to witness the supposed assassin.

Nobody paid mind to him with his identity concealed, it would be soon now. If he couldn’t get evidence to get Wheein out, then Jungkook would take matters into his own hand. He didn’t want to have Wheein leave Penumbra, but if this is what it took to keep her safe until her innocence was proven, this is what he would do.

He owed so much of his existence to her, he couldn’t let this happen.

He wasn’t going to let this happen.

The bells stopped as Dae Seong stood up from his throne on the wooden stage they had set up, “We have all gathered here to see the execution of the assassin who tried to kill our crowned princess! Her very own handmaid, this is the killer, our own flesh and blood, and the punishment for a traitorous woman is fitting, burning of the steak!”

Wheein was brought out, her hands tied behind her back, her eyes had dark circles and she was crying as she shook her head, “Please! I would never do that to Penumbra! To Y/n! Please you have to believe me!”

But her cries were in vein as the crowd boo’d her, all shouting vile words her way as they dragged her down to the large wooden steak pyre that had been set up.

Jungkook shifted in his spot as he watched them begin to tie her up.

“Are there any last words you would like to impart to us traitor?” Dae Seong looked at her with pure disgust.

Wheein’s lips quivered as she parted them.

A loud bloodcurdling scream interrupted her before she could speak, the crowd tensed and everyone seemed alert, Jungkook was towards the front, having intended on getting her off there the right moment, but he quickly turned around to see people quickly departing and creating a path.

And the next thing he saw was hardly comprehensible.

You, covered in blood, your face was a horrific sight with it’s dried crimson color covering your mouth all the way down your neck, but what was even more horrifying was what was next to you, Fenrir limping beside you, a corpse held in his mouth.

Women screamed and men gasped in horror as they all moved.

The looks on the royals faces were indescribable, Dae Seong most of all, “What is the meaning of this?”

You stopped in front of the throne, Fenrir as if knowing this was the destination, dropped the body from his jaws, it smacked the ground with a wet echo, the head finally detaching from the body as it rolled towards Dae Seong.

You don’t think you had ever seen an expression quite like what Dae Seong had, and you were sure this would be the only time.

It was silent for a long moment before you finally spoke, your throat raw and scratchy, “That’s your assassin, he tried to kill me again just hours ago.”

Dae Seong’s look of shock slowly twisted into one of rage, “Where is your proof of this!” He stood up from his throne towering over you with a growl, “What does a girl like you have meddling in business you don’t understand and taking the lives of those who were helping!”

“Am I standing in front of you not proof enough?” You snarled back, “From the moment I have come to this kingdom I have been nothing but disrespected, disregarded, used, and seen as nothing more than a tool to further someone’s agenda. And i’m sick of it.”

“Even when it comes to my own life, you stand in front of me questioning it!”

“Why I ought too!-”

“I have it!” A voice cried out, Jimin was running from the side entrance of the courtyard, a notebook in his hand as he panted, his eyes widening when they set on you, ‘Y/n!? Are you okay? I have it, I have proof that Di Jin was the assassin! Here, your majesty.”

Dae Seong snatched it with a certain level of venom as he looked through the book, but slowly as his eyes read through, an unreadable look took over his face.

Exhaustion began to take over, your body beginning to sway.

Dae Seong closed the book with a sense of finality, “Very well,” He aid with gritted teeth, anger still simmering in his eyes, “Perhaps, you do have the grit to survive here princess.”

You didn’t hear his words though, your gaze had went down to the body of Di Jin, and swaying backwards you collapsed into an abyss of darkness, nothing more then multiple people calling your name.

[90sbee]

Dying is not an option (when you're by my side)

Leon S. Kennedy x Gn!reader

1k words. Also on a03

Soft fingers caress his lips, keep his body warm, his belly full and his back massaged.

“I’ll always have a home,” Leon finally manages to get out, a complete sentence, voice without hesitation.

He closes his eyes, kisses the skin of your shoulder.

Hell, he is trying.

When his mind seems to get too clouded by the visions of monsters, you pull him out of the depths of his trauma. He does his best to love you. He tries.

Or the fic in which you make Leon repeat comforting phrases so it finally gets in his head that he is loved.

Just a very soft idea that wouldn't leave my head and that's been too long in the wip folder. The warnings make it seem worse than it is, but happy ending I promise!!! Had re4r in mind for this one but can be read with other older versions of him. (Though the older the Leon, the angstier it gets lmao)

Content: No use of y/n, very very soft love, hurt/comfort, some angst, established relationship, living together, sitting on his lap, a tiny bit of possessive Leon (yay!)

Warnings: +18 ONLY. No smut but some suggestive lines. Mentions of blood, suicide, guns and overall (some brief) gore. Leon's mental struggles (depression, anxiety). I'm not a native English speaker but I (lazily) proofread and edited this one.

You lean forward, just a little closer to his body. Leon groans, his face unreadable still.

“Don’t want to,” he muses, kind of annoyed at your proposal.

“Just trust me.”

He reluctantly nods, as you get comfortable on his lap. His firm thighs under you, the warmest and comfiest seat you could ever ask for.

You worry about him, worry so much.

You know now: know what he does, what he works as. At first it was hard to believe it, the stories about human turned monsters, about creatures that linger between heaven and hell. But you had to believe him, you were forced to the first time Leon crumbled down in your arms, sobbing the entirety of the night, the immensity of his body reduced to shivering and tears.

“I love you,” you had told him that time. “I’m not letting you go. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You whisper the same things again now, your voice reverberating close to his ear. Leon eases the grip on your hips, replaces it with a soft touch. He tries to calm down, closes his eyes for a moment too long.

“You love me,” he seems to ask, as if trying to convince himself of it, as if trying to find himself worthy of such a feeling from someone like you.

“I do,” you confirm, cupping his cheeks.

He nods, though his heart is thumping in his chest still. Your hands move to his shoulders, then to his arms, caressing the skin with soft strokes.

“I love you… Look at me.”

He obliges, eyes like the ocean, marked by the heavy and dark eyebags.

It breaks your heart to see him like this. Your lip trembles as you lean closer, shortening the distance.

It is entirely possible —as you’re so much aware of— that one day you’ll come home to an unlocked gun and his body in the bathtub. Or maybe it would be the rifle, the carpet stained with blood and pieces of what used to be his jaw.

A jaw that you love so much, that you kiss now.

Leon sighs, seems content with such affection, his hands getting lost down your thighs.

“Listen to me. You’re gonna repeat as I say, okay?” an attempt to get him out of his head, to remind him of who he is.

“ …‘Kay,” he mumbles, seemingly distracted.

“I’m… good.”

He scrunches his nose, pinkish lips downturned. Naturally, he doesn’t dare to say those words. He doesn’t want to trick his brain.

“C’mon,” you egg him, patting his shoulder gently.

The action seems to at least make his lips curve slightly.

“I’m good,” he whispers, his voice insecure.

He tries. You can see how hard he does it: coming home as much possible, the dirty laundry now clean and with a soft cinnamon scent. A sunflower in the kitchen vase next to the window, the coffee mug always clean even when you leave it in the sink, ready to be washed in the morning.

“I’m a good partner,” you resume, reminiscing.

That does stops him in his tracks, a gentle blush rooting on his cheeks, the smile more pronounced now. Leon presses his face against your neck.

“… Do I really have to say it?”

“Yep.”

He breathes on your neck, as if trying to take in a bit of your kindness, a bit of your peace. He closes his eyes, tries to control his breathing. But his hands grip your hips harder.

He fucking loves you.

Leon is not sure he deserves this yet, the warm body on the bed, the pretty smile that kisses him goodbye, lets him go away even in the middle of the night.

“I love you,” he backtracks, pressing a kiss on your neck.

You chuckle, and allow him that admission.

“Very cute but that’s not what you had to repeat.”

Leon raises his eyebrows, feigning annoyance. He keeps his fingers on your hips, dancing on your skin, drawing patterns as he keeps you close. He wishes he could sign his name there, mark you forever so you’d never get too far away from him… So he’d always have a right to come back to you.

“But I love you…” he pouts.

You grab his face with utmost care, force his cheeks to look upwards at your face.

“I love you too. Lots.”

You kiss his forehead. His body melts under that touch.

“ ‘m a good partner” he mumbles, quickly.

“My baby loves me.”

Now Leon chuckles.

“My baby loves me,” he hides again on your neck, his smile etched constantly on his face now. You hug him closer, kiss his forehead once more, as if sheltering a lost angel in your arms.

“I’ll always have a home.”

Oh, that one seems to break him a little. Leon immediately whines, his hands gripping your body with ferocity against his. He can’t say… He shouldn’t. He… he can’t and…

His heart starts beating faster and he gulps.

“You can do it…” you encourage him and he wants to try. He knows, deep inside, that is true and that he is now safe. It takes him several minutes until his anxiety dissipates and he can look up at you, your eyes encapsulating warmth that he had never experienced with anyone else.

Soft fingers caress his lips, keep his body warm, his belly full and his back massaged.

“I’ll always have a home,” Leon finally manages to get out, a complete sentence, voice without hesitation.

He closes his eyes, kisses the skin of your shoulder.

Hell, he is trying. It is seen not only in how much he makes time for you, but also in the way he follows along with your little silly ideas, suggestions to try to build himself up again.

And though he wouldn’t directly admit it, since you two are together he has promised himself to fight his hardest in every mission. He spits his own blood, wipes off the exhaustion from his face and keeps pushing forward. Because, he’ll be damned, he wants to see you once more. And once more. And again and again… And when he comes home, to you, Leon immediately checks —for the tenth time— the safety on each gun and leaves them in locked boxes, his fingers slowly forgetting what it’s like to toy with weapons in the sanctuary that you’ve built for the two of you. The cold of the metal is now replaced by the warmth between your thighs, the flesh on your hips, the softness of your hands.

Hell, he is definitely trying.

And it’s fucking working.

God to be on his lap honestly!!! A dream. And if you've made it to the end, thank you!! Mwah, sweet soul 💙

[feyascorner]

7 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. “It’s too hard to see. We need to turn back.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little bit of darkness.”

You scrunch your nose at this, and he merely grins. Before you can say anything, he’s back to pacing across the dirt without a care in the world—almost too fast for your liking. “Will you at least slow down?”

“Shall I hold your hand?”

“I’d rather cut it off.”

“A pity.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, tav reader is a bard, italics are flashbacks

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. 6.9k words !!! this chapter took forever but somehow i managed!! thank you so much for your kind words and patience !!! he's kind of a silly guy in the chapter so pls enjoy this peace offering as the calm before a storm

“Are you sure this is the right course of action? Letting him ascend?” Shadowheart asks as you adjust one of the logs in the campfire, watching the other companions organize their tents from afar. You stop at this, turning to face her.

“It’s what he wants,” you mumble. “I won’t stop him if he’s sure this is the right thing to do.”

You’re still getting used to her hair, which’s now as white as a sheet, but you think it looks lovely against the fire. She seems calmer than she did when she was with Shar. At peace, almost. She casts you a sidelong glance. “Can we really trust his judgment of all people? He’s—I mean, well, him.”

“I know it sounds unreasonable," you say letting yourself sit down beside her on her bedroll. “But I want him to make his own decisions. He’s spent too many years having no choice of his own, and I’d be the worst person to take it away from him again.”

“I just,” her voice softens. “Astarion’s a complicated person, and I’m sure you know better than us. It’s because he couldn’t make his own choices for so long that it makes me think he’s lost his capability to make any choices anymore. Good ones, at least.”

“I trust him.”

“Gods knows how.”

You stifle a laugh, and she sips at her wine, eyes still glazing over the camp. There’s a kind of solemnness to them that makes your stomach churn. “You seem worried.”

“Not worried, per se,” she shrugs. “I just realize that I owe a debt to you for what you did for me against my lad—I mean, Shar. And I myself almost went down that dark path of becoming a Justiciar if it weren’t for you. At the time, I thought it was the best thing for me too, like Astarion believes ascension to be what will set him free.”

You nod patiently, urging her to continue.

“I only fear he might make the wrong choice if he doesn’t have the right guidance as I did.”

The words feel hesitant on her tongue. And although they make the voice in the back of your head, telling you to convince Astarion otherwise, louder, you ignore it, opting to smile at her softly instead. “Is this you caring about our companions?”

“Heavens, no,” she snorts, but there’s a joking tone behind her voice. “But like I said…I’m indebted to you all. Astarion also aided in my personal affairs with Shar, even if he didn’t have to, and even with his incessant complaining…I suppose this is my way of paying him back.”

Your chest warms. It’s soothing to know that even without you, your other companions have enough care for your lover to offer him bits of advice; in a way, it relieves a bit of weight off your shoulders. Even the companions who claim to detest his presence have grown fond of him over the months, and you’re sure it goes both ways. It helps because even if you’re gone, you know he’ll be okay.

“I never told you formally,” she sighs. “But thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me or feel indebted. I just did what I could for you.”

“Don’t be so humble. What you’ve done for me—for all of us—is something we’ll cherish for the rest of our lives,” she takes her last swig from her wine. “But from one messed up person to another, please, be careful.”

Your wrist feels sore.

Two days. It’s been two days since the incident at the Blushing Mermaid, and still, your body seems to burn whenever you see his closed door across yours from the hall, and all you can do is rub shamefully at the healing puncture wounds on your wrist. The bandages looping around the skin do a good enough job of hiding them, but you genuinely wish you could just ask Shadowheart to heal them for you because being able to see them does little to help with the constant thoughts of the vampire muddling the clarity of your mind. 

But you’d rather not let your companions know what happened between you and the vampire on the dirtied floors of the Blushing Mermaid. You’d likely die of shame for letting him drink from you, even after your mutual agreement to specifically avoid just that. What’s worse is that you expect the worst from Lae’zel, especially after her explicit advice to do the exact opposite of what you chose to do.

You tighten the bandages again.

“Did those yourself, did you?”Alfira snorts, and you almost have half a mind to glare at her if it weren’t for the crumpled sheets of paper surrounding the legs of her chair. The ink on the discarded pages now blends into mush as they lie in the puddles forming around her—an aftermath of the recent rainy weather. You don’t tell her, though. She seems frustrated enough as it is, and you fear she might snap a string of her lute if this prolongs any longer. “How’d you get hurt anyway?”

“It’s a bug bite.”

“A rather massive bug, apparently.”

The corners of your lips quirk downward, and she finally sets her lute aside, careful to avoid the puddles as she props it against the side of her stool to focus on her notepad instead. Though most of its pages have now been torn out, the remaining few have scribbles of song lyrics that even you can’t decipher with how messily the ink splatters across the page. She, however, seems perfectly fine reading its contents aside from her glaringly obvious distaste for the words themselves. You raise your brow. “Can you really read that?”

“Oh, hush. Don’t insult my penmanship.”

You snicker, eyes continuing to scan the sheets of paper that had been abandoned on Dalyria’s desk at the Blushing Mermaid. It’d taken quite some time to take apart the pages plastered on the wall and to organize the mountain of doctor’s notes lying across the lair, but you’d managed to fish out something useful eventually. The journal was one that seemed especially important, filled to the brim with Dalyria’s so-called ‘research.’ 

But if the past few days have told you anything, it’s that Dalyria is a terrible note-taker.

The pages are filled with shapes. Some are curved, and others just bend and contort into odd figures that you’re sure aren’t supposed to look like letters. Each page studies a different shape on a random part of the page, leaving them scattered and difficult to decipher.

You’re starting to think this is just some odd attempt at art rather than the studies she claims to be performing.

“And? Why are you here if you’re not here to look at those lyrics I gave you?”

“I’m trying to figure out what this journal says,” you sigh, flipping another page you don’t understand. “And if you couldn’t tell, I’m rather busy trying to find the people responsible for murders around the city, so excuse me if I haven’t had the time to glance at your song.”

“I’m plenty busy myself, you know! I just got hired to sing at this fancy party for some celebration. They even said I could dress all nice for it,” she smiles proudly, and you offer her a crooked one of your own. “It’s my first serious gig—so I’m a bit nervous with how large it is…”

“How’d you land something like that before you’ve even played at children’s birthday parties?”

“Well, I’m not doing it alone, obviously,” she reasons, scratching something on her pages again. “I’m going with one of my friends. She’s a wonderful violinist, and she managed to squeeze me into the event, which I’m so grateful for…I suppose I’m just a bit worried.”

You look up from Dalyria’s notebook. “Worried? What for?”

“That my fingers will lock up, and I’ll humiliate myself,” she admits sheepishly, tucking a portion of her hair behind her sharp ear. “Lihala used to call me silly for worrying about things that haven’t happened–but I can’t help it. It’s the before-show jitters. Pesky things. It’s a bit embarrassing, really.”

Humming in acknowledgment, you look to the murky skies overhead, where dark clouds threaten to pour down for at least another few days. A shame, you think. You’ve never seen the Summers of Baldur’s Gate feel so dreary.

It’s fitting, almost, considering the state that the city is in.

The painful sound of quill scratching against paper is all you can hear now as Alfira sighs irritably again, ripping out another sheet of paper.

“It’s not embarrassing,” you finally say.

She blinks up from her notepad. “What is?”

“Being nervous. I’ve done more performances than I can count, and my hands would still get clammy in front of a big crowd,” you laugh to yourself. “But when you see how they watch you as if you’re performing sorcery with your lute, it’s like you were never anxious in the first place. The audience is what makes it bearable.”

“Gods, I hope you’re right,” she smiles fondly as you continue to reminisce in your own memories. “It’s a rather shame we never got to perform together. Not after the last time we played at the Grove–and I don’t even count that occasion with how unstable my voice was…”

“I can watch if you’d like,” you offer. “Your performance, I mean.”

Her eyes gleam with excitement, and she reaches to clasp both your hands, beaming brightly. “Will you? I’m sure if you’re there, it’ll ease my nerves, too!-”

As you shift in your seat to follow your hands, Dalyria’s notebook slips off your lap. The simple splash beneath you tells you all you need to know as your eyes shoot down to where the notebook now lies face down into a puddle, and you don’t even have to lift it to know that its pages are soaked.

But you don’t have to pick it up yourself because Alfira’s carefully holding it in an instant, her face pale as she fans her hand in a fruitless attempt to prevent the damage already done. “Dammit, I’ve done it again! I’m truly sorry…I didn’t mean for that to happen! But I’m sure if we just put it in the sunlight for a few days, it’ll–”

You gently take it from her hands, shaking your head. Perhaps it’s because you were just deep into memories you hold dear to your heart, but there isn’t an ounce of panic in your voice. “It’s fine. I wasn’t getting anywhere with this thing anyway.”

“Still…”

The pages stick together in chunks as you flip the journal towards the pages that are at least half dry. You fear they might tear off at the slightest touch, so all you can do is stare at a page you deem to be soaking up the ink from the pages behind it. Alfira groans into her hands, and before you can spare her a glance to remind her it’s alright, you spot something in the middle of the page.

“Holy shit,” you whisper so quietly she doesn’t catch it.

“I’ll grab us a wind scroll. Or maybe that’s too strong? Surely there’s some spell that can dry off books.”

“You have no idea what you’ve just done for me, Alfira,” you blurt, already halfway to stuffing the journal into your pack. She blinks up at you with weary eyes, but you quickly clamber off the stool with no time to offer an explanation. “Let me know when the performance is. I’ll be here next week as usual.”

“Don’t you want me to dry off the pages?”

“No,” you shake your head, your heart pounding. “I need to show this to the others.”

She stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head. Still, as you rush toward the stairs leading to the city streets, she calls after you.

“Don’t forget to look at the lyrics!”

“Runes? As in the ones carved into Astarion’s back?”

“I thought they were random blots of ink, but,” you raise the notebook in your hands, and the soaked pages now show the contents of the following sheets, blending to form a larger image. The placement of the shapes were not random at all, and you internally apologize for calling Dalyria a few less-than-kind words in your mind. “They’re not. They’re parts of the runes that Cazador tried to use for the ritual. There are six sets of runes in here, and each one’s slightly altered.”

“But what purpose does that serve?” Shadowheart cocks a brow, eyeing the page questionably with crossed arms. “Cazador’s dead. There’s no ascension to be done.”

“Unfortunately, just because that haunting man is gone doesn’t mean the threat of an ascension is either.” Intrigued but clearly disturbed, Gale takes the notebook and squints at what it holds. “Cazador himself never needed to be the one to execute the ascension.”

The room goes silent, leaving an uncomfortable tension in the air that keeps you from moving. You’re not sure how many seconds pass before you hear the figure who’s been awfully quiet the past half an hour mutter something under his breath from the comfy armchair beside the fireplace.

Astarion clicks his tongue, seemingly unfazed. “Ah, I see.”

The fists at your side clench tighter. The bandages feel impossibly tight all of a sudden.

“It’s for the ascension, clearly. There’s no other plausible explanation,” his eyes remain glued to the flickering flames, swirling a chalice of wine in his hand. He doesn’t sip from it, knowing that it tastes of nothing but vinegar on his undead tongue, so why he’s poured himself a glass, you don’t understand. You also can’t be bothered to ask. “Perhaps they plan to enact it. Take a piece of all that power for themselves.”

“But they can’t do the ascension,” Shadowheart frowns, turning to you. “You said there’s only six runes in there. They don’t have the last one to enact the ascension because Astarion’s with us. Cazador’s the only one who could have done it because he’s the only one who knows what each of the runes looks like. Without Astarion’s, they can’t—”

“They wanted him,” you whisper the confession, and you swear your voice nearly cracks. “They wanted Astarion. That’s why they wanted to speak with me.”

All three of your companions whip their heads to you, and you stare down at the ground. Shame burns through you, and you can practically feel the disappointment radiating off them as it dawns on you that you lied to them. You lied to your closest companions for the sake of saving yourself the embarrassment that no matter what you do, no matter what you tell yourself, your subconscious forces you to care for the bloody vampire sitting beside the fireplace. Despite the many eyes on you, you can only feel one crimson pair that bore into you like the sun beating down on a hot summer’s day.

Even now, he’s your biggest concern, and you hate yourself for it.

“Then it’s not Astarion they need,” Gale says breathlessly. “They need the marks on his back.”

“And you didn’t tell us this, why?” Shadowheart hisses. “You said they just tried to kill you!”

You blurt. “They did! They said they’d stop killing citizens if I just tossed Astarion over to them, but when I said no, they completely flipped and–”

“You declined that deal?” Lae’zel snarls, and you unwillingly flinch at the venom in her tone. “You swore, istik. You swore you wouldn't be foolish if it came down to you or him.”

The words feel like a knife to your throat.

“Well, obviously, it worked out,” you grumble, ignoring how Lae’zel’s eyes are narrowed dangerously. No doubt, she has questions of her own that she’ll demand answers to later. “If I handed him over, they would’ve had the last key to conducting the ascension.”

“You still lied to us,” Shadowheart steps toward you, but Gale quickly clears his throat.

“I know how deceived we all feel, but must we fight? What matters is the spawns can’t conduct the ascension as of now, correct?” he attempts to calm her down, but her scowl only grows deeper. “As disappointed as we all are, we must admit that keeping Astarion here is the right decision.”

“You’re too hasty, wizard,” Lae’zel snaps. “A vampire’s ascension would mean ridding of all the other spawn wreaking havoc in the city. We mustn’t throw away a chance being offered without considering it.”

Shadowheart is immediately on her feet, her eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t be an idiot–a few thousand spawn is better than a nearly impenetrable being capable of creating even more spawn. That’s asking for just as bad as we are now–maybe even worse.”

They break into a simultaneous debate, one in which two room occupants do not take part. Because even as you try to focus on what the others are saying, all you can feel is the unsettling stare of the spawn in the corner of the room, his hand still swirling the wine. You wonder if his wrist ever gets tired. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of returning his stare, but you watch him from the corner of your eye as his attention shifts to your wrist.

“Are we even sure this is what they’re planning? Do a few drawings prove that they want to go through with this ritual, again, after what it nearly did to them?” Shadowheart’s attention darts to you. “This ritual would kill them. Why in the hells would all of them agree to do it if it only means one would come out alive?”

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out in return. The hurt embedded into her expression is so glaringly apparent that it makes your chest squeeze uncomfortably, and all you can do is look away in shame. “...I don’t know.”

Her face hardens. “Do you? Or are you just lying to us again?”

Cheeks flaring, you shake your head. “I’m not lying, I swear it.”

Her eyes flicker with something you don’t recognize before they flit to your bandaged arm and then back to your eyes. She doesn’t miss how you try to move your arm behind you. A miscalculation on your part since your attempt at hiding it makes your secret that much more obvious. “Then what are those for? You’ve had them on since you returned from the Blushing Mermaid, and you refuse to let me heal you myself. Just what did you get injured from?”

The room is so silent you can hear your own heartbeat.

“I–” you stop, wavering. “There was a—”

Shadowheart clenches her jaw. “Don’t lie. Please.”

But still, no words are willing to leave your throat. 

Your companions await words from you that do not exist. Like a deer in headlights, you stand numbly, unsure what to do. Fortunately, and also unfortunately, before long, Lae’zel has had enough of waiting, and she begins to march toward you in a way that makes you step away.

“Give me your arm,” she demands. “If you cannot say, then show us.”

You can feel all the blood draining from your face as she draws closer. But even Gale cannot hinder her this time because everyone in the room knows what she’s capable of with that blade attached to her hip, and she’s not against wasting a few potions of healing if she has to barrel her way through. You brace yourself for the inevitable, teeth gritting together.

Just as she reaches for your arm, someone else snatches it away.

“I drank from them,” Astarion says as you bump slightly into his chest, eyes wide at his pale fingers wrapped around your wrist. He yanks the edge of the bandage down with his free hand and lifts it for the others to see. The two puncture wounds, where the skin that surrounds it is darker than the rest, make you feel naked under the eyes of others. It’s too vulnerable. Too mortifying.

Your heart hammers pathetically, and whether it’s from the expressions of your companions or the hand wrapped around the sensitive skin of your wrist, you’re not sure. You hope it’s not the latter.

Gale’s jaw drops. “We agreed that this was the one thing you wouldn’t do.” 

“If I hadn’t, I would’ve perished,” the vampire retorts in response, releasing his hold on your arm as it falls back to your side. The place where his hand had been tinges under your skin. “And there weren’t exactly a few boars lying around the damn city for me to feed on.”

You notice he fails to mention there had been more than enough bodies to satiate him, but you keep your mouth shut.

The hurt on Shadowheart’s face is no longer one that throbs your sympathy. Instead, she seems to burn with something you haven’t seen in ages.

Anger.

Her palm flickers with radiant light, and Astarion immediately flinches, hissing as he moves to hide his body behind yours. In your haste, you can’t think of anything to do besides stepping toward her, holding out your hands. Astarion releases a strained laugh from behind you. “Now, Shadowheart, let’s not do anything hilarious, shall we?”

“I’ll kill you,” she growls maliciously, the glow of her palm growing brighter. “Like I should have done the second you came back to ruin everything we’ve done without you.”

You cautiously approach her, focus never leaving her eyes despite the danger festering in her hands. “You shouldn’t, Shadowheart.”

She throws daggers in your direction with just her expression, and you can’t deny how helpless you feel. “Killing him would end all of this. If we buried him somewhere, they’d never find the runes. They’d never be able to follow through with the ascension, and we won’t have to deal with his pompous ass anymore.”

You hate that she’s right. You hate that even though she’s right, you can’t agree with her methods.

“I know he’s—not exactly a friend—but he was once. And I know you considered him one as well,” you insist, inching closer. The hesitance in her motions as you come too close to the radiant light is undeniable. “I don’t want you to bear the guilt of his death.”

Because as much as you’re wrapped up in a world of your own–a world where you fight to hate the man behind you–you know that your companions feel the same way. The sentiments gathered from months of sharing the same camp, months of saving one another from multiple deaths, and months of aiding one another overcome their own pasts don’t just disappear. You know what they shared. Being the most similar amongst your companions, forced under the influence of a power they did not want to be subjected to, you know they considered themselves friends, even if they never voiced it out loud.

You know that deep down, Shadowheart’s hatred for Astarion stems from her own feeling of betrayal when he tried to kill you. When he attempted to harm the only other person who guided her to a path outside of Shar.

“Trust me, I won’t feel guilty,” she finally forces out. “You’re a fool to trust him again.”

“I don’t trust him,” you reassure her, your hands finally reaching hers as they dim and eventually vanish all traces of magic. “But if he’s to die for nearly killing me, I want it to be under my hands. Don’t sully your own for my sake when you’ve just escaped all the bloodshed.”

Shadowheart’s brows soften, but her face turns cold. Thoughts seem to run through her mind like an endless train before she decides that thinking through each one is worth more than Astarion himself is worth. She inhales deeply and nods, allowing you to finally release her hands. She shoots the others one last glance before turning to retreat upstairs.

You’re left in a pitiful silence—one that nobody in the room dares to break.

An entire day is spent with you wallowing in your shame, refusing to get out of bed.

You hope this is just a terrible nightmare, but you know better. If this were a nightmare, you’d already be dead.

You only climb out of your covers when you have to change the bandages on your wrist. It’s a painful process now since you don’t even want to look at the puncture wounds anymore, but it’s better than risking it to get infected. A knock on your door makes you stand from your bed, kicking the bandage rolls under your bed. “It’s open.”

You expect Gale or even Lae’zel, but you’re met with piercing red eyes. You contemplate begging him to leave you alone because looking at him right now only conjures up the guilt that’s been eating away at you for hours now. Instead, you build that wall between the two of you again, your face hardening. “What do you want?”

He’s never come to you willingly before. Not unless you were positively drenched in blood, and he had no choice but to follow his instincts for what he hopes to be a meal other than stale boar blood. Much less approached you in your own room.

Astarion lifts the empty glass bottle in his hand. “A charming welcome, as usual, I see.”

“You just had a full supply yesterday,” you say, brows furrowing. “I checked it myself.”

“Clearly, now I don’t,” he shrugs, and when you shoot him an intense glare, he frowns. “You can’t possibly blame me. I haven’t exerted myself as I did at that dirty tavern since the last time I had that damn parasite swimming around my head. So, unless you decide to offer yourself to me, again…”

You think he’s genuinely lost his mind. “Right now? Seriously? After what just happened yesterday, you want to ask me for blood?”

“Just a suggestion, darling. Otherwise, we always have the other option, as boring as it is.”

Perhaps you should just toss him to Lae’zel and call it a day.

Groaning in exasperation, you march past him, slapping a cloak into his chest. “There’s 15 minutes to sunset.”

He laughs, but it only makes your face turn sour.

The forest isn’t far off from the main square of Rivington. And by the time you reach it, the sun has long gone down, and you watch as Astarion takes off the hood of his cloak, breathing deeply in the moon's bask. And as he glances back at you, you don’t bother trying to walk side by side, remaining on guard and surveying his every move from three steps behind. He comments on it even though you think he doesn’t care for what you do. “I don’t bite, you know.”

“You’re not funny.” He snorts at your deadpan and continues into the deeper parts of the forest.

The entire time, your eyes remained glued to the backs of his heels, palms growing increasingly clammy as you become surrounded by nothing but the soft ambiance of the woods. His steps are as silent as they’ve always been, and it feels like following a ghost into the darkest parts of the forest. It’s becoming hard to see more than a few feet in front of you, and if your training with Lae’zel has taught you anything, you know that you don’t want to be at a disadvantage—especially when the other party is a bloody vampire.

You halt in your tracks. He does, too, turning to shoot you a questioning look. “What is it?”

“It’s too hard to see. We need to turn back.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little bit of darkness.”

You scrunch your nose at this, and he merely grins. Before you can say anything, he’s back to pacing across the dirt without a care in the world—almost too fast for your liking. “Will you at least slow down?”

“Shall I hold your hand?”

“I’d rather cut it off.”

“A pity.”

You curse his long legs as the forest becomes darker and darker, even as each time you think it can’t possibly get worse than this. You swear his steps become quicker, and a part of you wonders if this is where he attempts to run away and whether you should cast a sleep spell before he succeeds. But the most rational part of you reminds yourself that he’s had plenty of chances to escape. Hells, he could do it even now, considering how much more easily his eyes adjust to the darkness than you.

“Astarion, I swear to the Gods above, if you don’t stop walking so quickly…”

This time, you don’t get an answer.

Suspicions rising, you break into a jog and then into a gradual sprint. Every time you think you finally caught up to him, a branch whips into your face, and you barely manage to swat it away before it manages to cut your skin. You call his name a few times to no avail, and you genuinely begin to ponder if you should’ve brought your scroll for daylight.

Finally, you stumble through a tall berry bush into what you assume to be another branch.

And rather than more darkness, you’re met with a clearing. It’s only a few long strides in width and a couple more in length, but here, it doesn’t seem like nighttime at all. The moon peers down at you in all its glory, and you think this might’ve been Selune’s pocket of the forest if she were here. You blink wide when a speck of light—a firefly—flies barely past your face. And suddenly, you’re surrounded by light rising from the green grass beneath you in fragile wings. 

The tightness in your chest dissipates, if only for a moment.

Only once you’ve taken in the vast difference of your surroundings just a few moments prior do you see Astarion pulling off the clasp of his cloak. He tosses it to you, and it lands on your face before you yank it away with a scowl. “You could have just handed it to me–”

“Stay here,” he says. “I’ll return when I’ve finished hunting.”

You gawk at him. “I’m not going to let you just leave.”

“I’ve proven myself plenty,” he scoffs. “If I remember correctly, you would’ve likely perished were I not there at that tavern a few days ago. And I must remind you that I do have quite the memory. If I planned on betraying you, I would’ve done it then—at a more fashionable time.”

You don’t have much of a rebuttal to that.

While you could bring up the dozens of other times he’s made questionable decisions pertaining to his loyalty, the soothing bath under the moon’s gaze seems to calm you down. So, instead of fighting the internal urge to continue your petty quips, you drop the cloak beneath you. He cocks a brow, surely expecting more of a protest, but you just swallow your pride, plopping down on the grass with a huff. “If you don’t return in 30 minutes, I’m coming to find you.”

“40 minutes,” he tries. “30 minutes isn’t nearly enough time for anything fun.”

You scowl. “20 minutes.”

Astarion smiles wickedly just enough for his fangs to peek beneath his top lip. “Very well. I’ll expect you no later than that.”

And like a predator fading into his natural environment, he vanishes into the darkness.

Time passes slowly when all you can do is pick at pieces of grass. As beautiful as the clearing is, it’s a bit too soothing—enough to make you doze off as you lean against the trunk of a tree. Though you attempt to keep your eyes open, reminding yourself you have a responsibility to uphold, you haven’t had this sense of relaxation in ages. Especially now, in your home with an atmosphere thicker than the butter you use on your bread. It’s almost like a spell as you feel your heavy eyelids droop helplessly.

You pray you don’t dream tonight. Not when you know all you’ll think of is the betrayal you inflicted on your companions.

A rustle of leaves snaps you back awake.

And when you look up, you see two blood-red eyes staring down at you from the branches of the tree opposite of yours.

They look exactly like the spawn in the alleyway, practically a month ago now. The same ones that haunt your nightmares and the same ones that morph into your ex-lover in the ones you despise the most. And while you can’t see their face, you don’t need much more than that to break into action.

Immediately, you’re snatching the cloak and sprinting back into the forest's darkness. You don’t care about the branches flinging themselves at you anymore because you can barely breathe even without worrying about them. Twigs and thin branches flail across your cheeks as you practically barrel through the woods, your legs feeling like they could give up if you were ever to stop running. With only the cloak in one hand and a dagger in the other, you don’t even attempt to fight whoever this person is upfront–you learned your lesson well the last time you tried. So, instead, your boots crunch against whatever plants are being crushed beneath you as you frantically run from the creature chasing you.

The worst part is you can still hear leaves rustling behind you.

Your lungs hurt. Your head hurts. Everything hurts, and yet you cannot stop. You hope the forest itself swallows you whole at this point, especially as you hear the movements getting closer and closer.

Tripping over a particularly large root, you fall through a bush, bracing for impact as you curse everyone you can think of for your luck. But rather than your shoulder crashing into a pile of dirt and twigs, you plant face-first into what feels like…cloth?

“Eager little thing, aren’t you? If you wanted to touch me, you could have just asked,” Astarion teases and you instantly tear yourself away, pushing your palms against his chest with wide eyes. And as much as you hate to admit it, a flood of relief hits you. And as much as it shouldn’t, meeting his gaze makes you able to breathe again.

Gods, what is wrong with you?

“There’s something chasing me,” you say hurriedly, pointing in the direction behind you. “I think it’s another spawn, I saw his eyes–”

His face stills when you practically jump at the bushes moving in ways the wind cannot will it to. Your arm flies to push him in front of you in case something were to leap out, and while you’re sure he’d complain dramatically about this gesture on any other occasion, he’s too busy worrying about what lies behind the bush. His hand shoots to what you assume to be that blasted comb he takes everywhere while you grip your knife, and you hear both your breaths hitch when something lunges out of the shrub.

It’s a small, puny squirrel.

Astarion doesn’t even try to stifle the laugh that escapes him as he throws his head back.

“I swear there was something following me!” you hiss, slapping his arm while the squirrel scurries away back to wherever it came from. He doesn’t stop, having little care about how your face flushes with embarrassment, and instead seems to revel in it. The bastard is enjoying this.

You wish you could throw the damn squirrel at his head.

“Oh, yes, I do believe there was,” he’s barely fazed while you continue glaring daggers at him. “I’m impressed you survived an encounter with such a terrifying foe, my dear.”

“It was definitely following me...” your voice trails off, and the bloodlust that had overwhelmed your lungs is fading away, leaving nothing but the sound of Astarion and his annoyingly loud laughter. 

He stops when there’s a shrill scream from across the forest. One that wails in what is unmistakenly of excruciating pain.

The two of you slowly turn to one another, and a knowing gleam flashes behind his eyes.

“Darling, the smart decision here would be to leave–”

But you’re already rushing toward whoever this victim is, forcing him to groan loudly and trail after you, snatching up your cloak from the ground in the process. You feel him close behind as you practically fly through the forest, with little care of how exhausted you were just moments before as the screams of pain seem to fuel your determination to lend aid. 

Astarion, although displeased, only grumbles as he continues to follow your lead. “Is it necessary to be heroic now of all times? In a dark forest where there’s sure to be animals twice our size?”

You ignore him.

A leaf slaps into your face as you finally reach what’s now been reduced to soft sobs. And you’re not sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t someone you knew.

“Berry?” you blink at the small girl, who you’re sure can barely even see you with how teary her eyes are. She watches you wearily before she gasps in recognition, and it’s then that you realize that her arm is bleeding.

“Tav!”

“You’re hurt,” you’re kneeling beside her in an instant, assessing her wounds as you reach to dig around your pockets in hopes of any medical supplies you might’ve left in there. “Did something attack you?”

“Yes,” she winces as you lift her arm to inspect it closer. “I’m not sure what it was, but it came out of nowhere, and they—-they tried to bite me.”

A lump forms in your throat. As twisted as it is, you're relieved you weren't actually imagining what you saw earlier. “Did you see if they had fangs? Did they look like a regular person?”

“I think so,” she replies in a hushed voice, wiping her tears. “I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do when it–”

A hand grabs her by the back of her cloak, yanking her in the air with her legs dangling helplessly as Astarion holds her just high enough to render attempts to kick at him useless. “I’d normally entertain tasteless tricks like this, but I’m in a less than forgiving mood, I’m afraid. You’ve cut into the time I have to fill my own stomach.”

You gasp, jumping to your feet. “Astarion, what the actual hells are you doing?”

“Trust me, you’ll thank me later, darling,” he sneers at the girl, hissing at him aimlessly. “Show them, you little imp.”

Having no idea what’s going on, you decide the best thing to do is de-escalate whatever misunderstanding he’s had about the poor girl tied to his hand. “You’ll hurt her. Just let her go and explain what’s going on.”

“Show them,” he pronounces each word harshly, glaring at Berry. 

And finally, she tries to bite at his hand. This prompts her to unhinge her jaw just enough for you to see the glint of sharp teeth. Ones that do not certainly belong to an innocent orphan.

Were you always this unlucky, or was the past month just a living hell for you?

“See what I mean? You can offer your thanks to me later, darling,” Astarion smiles proudly, and if you knew him any less than you did, you’d think he’s psychotic for smiling like that in this situation. But then, again, maybe he is. “How you seem to attract so many of us is beyond me, but I believe we should refrain from keeping this one alive.”

Your jaw drops. As much as you feel appalled that the innocent girl you’ve been soothing over the death of her adoptive father for the past few weeks turned out to be one of the very creatures that nearly took your life (on multiple occasions), you can’t fathom the idea of just ridding of her. She’s still a kid—at least, to the naked eye. “Are you insane? No, we’re not killing her!”

“Gods, please don’t tell me you’ll try and make this brat see sense. She’s practically feral! Look at her!” he grits through his teeth, waving his free hand to the girl in question, who’s too busy trying to snap her teeth at him. “This thing doesn’t deserve your sympathy right now.”

Berry manages to catch the tip of his finger in her teeth, and Astarion lets out a string of curses as he drops her to the dirt. It doesn’t even take another second for her to lunge toward you, fangs bared and claws ready to sink into your flesh. You barely manage to swerve out of the way, her sharp nail grazing past your cheek.

“Berry, just listen to me! I don’t want to hurt you!” you practically yell, but she only stumbles on the ground a moment before rushing at you again. You reach for your dagger, fearing you may have to use it on a child until she’s snatched into the air again.

This time, Astarion hangs her by the cloak onto a tree branch, where she screams and grasps at the air, practically throwing a tantrum.

You gawk in utter disbelief; too many things are happening simultaneously.

And Astarion doesn’t help as he slips out the damn comb again, grinning from ear to ear. You notice that this time, he seems to have taken the time to sharpen the tips of the teeth, which nearly look akin to a row of needles. 

He holds the comb in Berry’s direction. “Well? Shall I do the honors?”

As you watch him threaten a child who also happens to be a vampire, you ponder that maybe you should have just handed him over to Dalyria when you had the chance.

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[throneofsapphics]

Can we please have a part two to some questions are better left alone? I’m obsessed!!!

some questions are better left alone, part 2

Rowaelin x f!Reader

(part one) (part three)

Summary: They want you here, I repeated to myself. If I said it enough, I might start believing it. Or the words would lose their meaning. 

Word Count: ~2.8k 

Warnings: drinking, angst, y/n is a bit impulsive  

A/N: I’m glad you liked it, here it is! This is a bit shorter than the first one! I’m thinking about doing a part three 

I thought about it for days. Whether I should stay - or go back home for some time to sort my thoughts out. I promised we would speak about it, but I never gave an exact time or date. 

Here, their presence was intoxicating and everywhere. I was drawn to them, and everything in me wanted to please them, to do what I had to to stay close to my mates. Maybe that was part of the problem, I couldn’t have a clear head here. And speaking to my family and friends back home about it … 

The journey wasn’t incredibly long - maybe one week, but with how busy everything had been I’ve only seen them a few times in the last couple of years. Every time the conversation about visiting home popped up, there seemed to be another event going on. I have been brushing it off as a coincidence. 

-

She looked right at us, her body stiff and her throat swallowing. “I need to visit home for a bit.” 

It felt like all of the air left her lungs. She said they would talk about it, would have a conversation, why would she need to leave? 

“Why?” Rowan asked bluntly. 

“I can’t …” She covered her face with her hands, dragging them down before exhaling slowly. “I can’t think here. I need space.” 

“We can give you space here,” Aelin said hesitantly. “You have your own space.” 

“That’s not the same.” She could see the pain in her eyes - the indecision, the doubt. 

Do you think she’ll come back? If we let her go. Rowan asked her, glancing her way. 

-

“As long as you swear you’ll come back.” Aelin’s eyes bore into me, like a brand. It sounded vaguely like a threat. Promises are some of the only things immortals deal in anymore - promises and bargains. 

There was a momentary, too-obvious, pause. “I swear it.” I promised. Not a date, or a time. 

-

She’s keeping everything vague. Rowan’s voice sounded in her mind, before he asked her, “When will you come back?” 

A fair, reasonable question but the hesitation in y/n’s eyes worried Aelin.

“I don’t know yet,” her fingers tapped against the wooden table. “I won’t be long, but I haven’t seen my family in a while.” A tang of guilt ripped through Aelin. Y/n had barely been away from them since she first moved here. Her family didn’t live that far away, y/n could reach them rather quickly. She got the keen sense that if they offered to go with her, it would be shot down - shot down quick enough it might sting, so she didn’t bother asking. 

“A month.” Y/n finally said, before her or Rowan could speak. “I’ll be back in a month.” 

About one week of travel each way, two weeks with her family. It was all reasonable. So reasonable Aelin couldn’t find a way to shoot it down, not without seeming unhinged herself. 

-

“You know why mates are put together, right?” My cousin glanced at me. I’d told her about my doubts and fears - about everything. She’s the only one I trusted to keep her mouth shut. As far as the rest of my family was concerned, it was a surprise visit home. I played it off well, but my cousin knew me better than the rest. As two only children, we were raised like siblings. 

“Because they’re equals.” I answered automatically, “or to make the most powerful babies.” 

She snorted. “I hope you don’t get pregnant anytime soon.” 

“I’m not planning on it,” I laughed. The thought of a pregnancy made me shiver. Something I was certainly not ready for. 

“But,” My cousin turned to look at me, grabbing my hand gently, “we were also taught that doesn’t mean mates are always a perfect fit.” 

I dropped her hand. I can’t imagine life without them. Not now, not now that I’d been with them so long. But … they had lived a life without me, and could probably picture it perfectly well. “Do you think they would be better off on their own?” 

“I don’t know them,” she raised a brow, “and that’s not a question you should be asking me.” 

The rest of the visit went well, and I did feel a freshness - but also an emptiness at the same time, like a key part of me was missing. I found myself both dreading and anticipating leaving. Dreading the conversation we’d be having on my return, but eager to be back with them, to have that part of my soul fulfilled. 

-

Aelin and Rowan were on edge the entire time she was gone. 

Rowan managed to sit in one place, even feign concentrating on a report, but Aelin wore a path back and forth across the room. 

“She’ll be back tomorrow.” He finally said, putting down the papers he’d been staring at, not really reading or comprehending any of the contents. 

“What if she doesn’t come back?” 

“Has she ever broken a promise?” 

“No.” His fireheart sighed, walking towards him instead, before perching on his lap, her head against his shoulder. 

“She should already be on her way,” he murmured, running his hand up and down her spine. “And before you ask, I won’t go check.” 

Aelin let out something between a grumble and a growl - enough to tell him he was right. They needed to show her they trusted her, trusted that she would keep her word. 

-

I was surprised I didn’t see any white-tailed hawks following me back to the castle, or scouting out my path. I was keeping my eye out for any birds that might be in the area. None followed me home, or checked I was on my way back. The show of trust surprised me. At least they know I’ll keep my promises. 

-

We were all toying around the conversation, the one we all knew needed to happen. It was unlike us, really, to be so hesitant about things like this. It was me, of all people, who brought it. 

“One of the thoughts I had.” I swallowed, “I’ve been taught mates aren’t always a perfect fit. That they’re paired together for either whoever can make the most powerful children, or who are equals, and I know something doesn’t have to be perfect to make it work, but sometimes I wonder why you’d want me when you’re already a perfect fit and if you were happier without me.” I thought of Fenrys’s warning - of pretending those words never came out of my mouth. Gods, what if I’d made a big mistake … what if this would make them think, make them realize they really would be better off without me, if they were happier. 

I found the courage to look at both of them. They looked crestfallen. Aelin reached out and covered my hand with hers. “We want you. We’re happy with you. Now that you’re here, we never want to let you go.” An unusual softness was present in Rowan’s eyes as well and he reached out, covering my other hand. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. 

-

They talked, and talked, and talked. Thank the gods they didn’t have any meetings or plans today, otherwise they would have been very very late, and not in the best mood to deal with anyone else. 

“Do you,” Aelin swallowed harshly. “Do you want to go home, permanently?”

“I don’t want to leave you.” Not a direct answer, but good enough that her shoulders visibly relaxed. 

Rowan and Aelin were more before we realized we were mates. Enemies. Friends. Carranam. My Blood-Sworn. Lovers. Husband and wife. Mates. A progression, a timeline. Comparatively, y/n jumped right in at that last step, without the other experiences to form a solid rock or foundation. But, they could build those experiences over time. 

-

Rowan thought he’d be prepared for things like this, having been mated for a decade already, but it was so damn different. Aelin and y/n aren’t the same, and he can't treat them exactly the same. Where Aelin will tell him off, y/n doesn’t - she holds all of that in. He needs to work on being … nicer, and she needs to work on saying what she’s feeling, or thinking. 

“We won’t be mad at you for the things you’re thinking, or feeling. We can’t fix a problem if we don’t know it exists.” 

“Right.” She hesitated for a few moments, but kept speaking, “part of this is my fault, for putting words in your mouth.” 

“We haven’t been very considerate of you, and your feelings.” 

Awkward, but good. 

-

I dragged Fenrys back to my rooms again, the day after we talked. 

“I assume I’m summoned here because of a certain talk you had.” His eyes glinted with amusement. I groaned, but motioned to the chair in front of me. He sat, looking half amused and half worried. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense.” 

“It was fine,” I hesitated. 

His face grew taut. “Fine?” 

“They asked if I wanted to go home permanently.” 

“And what did you say?” 

“That I don’t want to leave.” 

A heavy silence filled the room. I gave them a half-answer. I don’t want to leave here.

“You’re thinking about it.” Fenrys didn’t pose it as a question. 

“I’m always thinking about …” I didn’t want to finish the sentence, didn’t want to put the words out into the open - into the air. 

“Don’t tell me.” He said quickly, before I could gather my thoughts enough to continue speaking. He might get the urge to tell Aelin, if I said anything that could cause her any kind of hurt - emotional included. He stood, rolling his shoulders back. “You need a night out,” his eyes danced in amusement. “Invite your friends. Especially the pretty one.” 

“That sounds perfect,” I managed to say in between laughs. 

“Write a better note this time,” he winked. “I’ll meet you at the gates in half an hour.” 

I scrambled for a pen and paper. 

Going out with Fenrys, I’ll try not to walk into any pillars this time. Don’t be too nosy. 

They’d likely find that funny. Gods I hope they will. 

-

Rowan picked up the note, ‘I'll try not to walk into any pillars,’ he sighed. Fenrys definitely pulled her into this, well aware he and Aelin would be in an important trade meeting the next morning. He handed it to Aelin, who snorted in amusement. 

“They’ll have a good time.” She turned to him with narrowed eyes. “And you won’t make a big fuss this time.” 

“I didn’t make a fuss.” He countered, arms crossed. His mate only raised an elegant eyebrow. Really? I think you started a fight. Rowan ignored the barb, stalking from the room to find something to do. There were always reports to read. Aelin snickered, right on his heels. 

-

The night out was exactly what I needed. Laughter, friends, alcohol. Fenrys and I made our way back, drunk off our asses. Failing to hide our laughter as we made our way down the halls. I didn’t walk into any pillars this time, didn’t beat anyone in a drinking contest, and avoided Effie’s homemade liquor. 

Fenrys was too drunk - or too lazy to make his way back to his rooms, and shifted right in the sitting room, curling up on a rug. I sniffed the air. Drunk dog. That’s a new scent. 

I bit back another laugh, changing before stumbling into my bed. 

-

Rowan woke a bit earlier than necessary, intending to check on y/n before the meeting. Aelin grumbled at him, but didn’t follow him out of bed this time. 

It took a lot of self control not to laugh at the wolf curled up in her sitting room, sleeping like the dead. Alcohol and dog - he rolled his eyes, headed for the door. 

He opened it quietly, just enough to peer into the room. Y/n was sound asleep, one arm hanging over the end of the bed, mouth open and drooling slightly onto her pillow. At least she doesn’t reek of alcohol this time. The dawn rays were beginning to stream in through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on her face. Without thinking too much of it, he fetched a tonic for headache, and a glass of water, setting it on the side table. He let himself brush a few strands of hair away from her face. She didn’t move, didn’t stir, the entire time. 

Rowan frowned. Anyone could sneak into her room and … he cut off that line of thinking, but made sure to double check the locks on the windows before leaving. 

-

Aelin rubbed her eyes, yawning as Rowan trailed back into the room. 

“All okay?” She drawled. It was cute that he woke up early to check on her. Fussy buzzard. 

“Yes,” he grunted. “There’s a drunk wolf sleeping on the floor of her sitting room.” 

She snorted at the idea. A wolf-sized pony in her sitting room. Fenrys was either too intoxicated or too lazy to make his way back to his own rooms. Maybe next time she’d get y/n to glamor her, just so she could go out with them. 

“Two of them is enough.” Rowan must’ve seen the look on her face. “I don’t need to worry about three of you stumbling through the streets. You’d empty all of the alcohol out of that tavern.” 

Aelin gave an innocent shrug, ignoring his sigh before rising to get ready for the day. She wasn’t excited for this meeting. 

-

I woke up to the faint scent of pine and snow, and some blessings on my bedside table. Rowan can be sweet from time to time, in his own way. I downed the tonic in one gulp. The night out may have been a temporary relief, but the seed of doubt started to drift back into me. 

They want you here, I repeated to myself. If I said it enough, I might start believing it. Or the words would lose their meaning. 

Pushing the door open, a great white lump of fur dozed on the floor, a few feet in front of me. 

I poked him in the ribs, before jumping back out of the way. His lips curled in a snarl, the canine body poised to strike, before he realized who I am, and huffed. Fenrys shifted back into Fae form. 

“Good morning,” I chirped, unnecessarily loud. He winced, sending me a vulgar gesture. I rummaged my cabinets, tossing a tonic over my shoulder. 

I heard a curse, then a swallow. “Thank you,” he muttered. I turned and grinned at him. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing courtly things?” 

“Nope,” he snorted. “Their Majesties get to handle this one.”

I hummed. He hung around for tea, before leaving to do … whatever else Fenrys does. 

-

“Are you still having doubts?” Aelin brought up randomly, over dinner a few weeks later. It was just the two of us, Rowan out late training some new guards. Poor souls. 

I blinked in surprise. “Are you?”

“No.” She said a bit too quickly. My heart dropped into my stomach. 

“I’m not.” I said slowly, the words feeling like a half-lie on my tongue. Nothing had been unusual the last few weeks. If anything, things had been better. I forced a smile onto my face, and changed the topic - asking about their upcoming meeting with some delegates from Melisande. I listened to her complaints about the various ‘assholes,’ she’d have to deal with, but my mind swirled on how quickly she answered. 

I had Effie post a discreet letter for me the next day.

-

Aelin wondered if she sent the wrong message with her answer. She didn't have doubts, not about their relationship. No, doubts if y/n was feeling more secure here. The female did seem a bit distant the rest of the night. She decided not to think about it too much, to push it to the back of her mind and bring it up with Rowan later. 

-

The next week, an urgent letter came for me. I opened it with Rowan and Aelin, taking careful notice of the seal - my family’s seal. My eyes widened as I read it. A summons. The letter I posted arrived quickly. 

I handed it to Rowan and Aelin silently, settling my face into a lost and confused mask. I'm completely aware they're watching my every move, my every reaction.

“Do you want company?” Aelin asked gently. 

I swallowed harshly, “I should probably handle this alone.” 

[pagannatural]

1.22

Devil’s Trap

-Dean walks away from Meg and Sam is like “are you okay?” It’s just so cute how Sam shows his care for Dean by paying close attention to him like this

-Dean says he always wanted to be a fireman when he grew up and Sam goes “you never told me that!” in this cute little brother way like he can’t believe Dean would keep something like that from him.

I feel like we as a society (by which I mean the wincest posts that show up on my dash) moved on too quickly from fireman Dean. Dean would be a fantastic fucking fireman. He could put “rescued my perfect sweet-eyed baby brother from three burning buildings” on his resume. He really sees no value in anything that he can’t relate back to Sam, does he?

-The first time Dean knowingly kills someone it’s to save Sam. A love that corrupts etc

Images that feel both illegal and religious

The way Sam melts into Dean completely, mouth open, eyes shut.

Sam says softly “you saved my life back there” which is inherently romantic. Dean tells Sam “For you or dad the things I’m willing to do or kill…it scares me sometimes.” His love for Sam scares him sometimes. Dean also saved Sam in spite of his dad’s disapproval of him using the Colt.

-Dean to possessed John: “He wouldn’t be proud of me… you’re not my dad.” Yikes, condolences. Poor Dean

-Sam walks into the room to find Dean aiming the colt at John and goes “Dean!” right as Dean tells him to stay back. I have a feeling if it had been John aiming a gun at Dean, Sam still would’ve gone “Dean!” and Dean would’ve told him to stay back, and if it were either of them aiming a gun at Sam, Sam still would’ve gone “Dean!” and Dean would’ve told him to stay back. If something’s not right Sam’s gonna yell “Dean!” and Dean’s gonna tell Sam to stay back.

Dean tells Sam John is possessed.

Sam asks how do you know, because Sam likes to be informed, and Dean just says “he’s different.”

That’s enough for Sam. He GETS BEHIND DEAN. This is the underrated samdean moment of all time for me. He doesn’t even hesitate. He tested John with holy water himself, but he knows that Dean knows John well, and he trusts Dean. He said last episode that Dean is the one person he can always count on. And he doesn’t just go to his side, he stands close behind him so that Dean can protect him.

-The demon taunts Dean by saying his family doesn’t need him

and the camera cuts to Sam who’s like. He doesn’t think I need him? 🥺

-Sam shoots their possessed dad in the thigh and immediately runs to kneel by Dean and worry over him. Dean asks Sam to go check on John, and Sam makes a face like What the fuck? I’m busy checking on you

Sam complies and stands over John to check on him. It’s just so different from his concern for Dean. Like, that’s his dad that he just maimed, lying on the floor not moving, and 110% of Sam’s concern is directed at Dean. It’s not a competition, but if it were, Dean would win.

-John tells Sam “shoot me” but Dean tells him not to, so of course he listens to Dean.

John is disappointed in Sam because “killing this demon comes first. Before me, before everything.” Sam looks at Dean in the rearview mirror and says “no sir, not before everything.” John is the one that Sam chose not to kill when he had the chance to kill the demon, and yet it’s Dean he’s thinking about when John says this. Nothing comes before Dean. A big part of Sam’s choice not to shoot when his dad was possessed was not being able to hurt Dean like that, knowing that Dean would rather have John alive than the demon dead. I honestly think he would’ve pulled the trigger if Dean told him to.

It’s a beautiful resolution to their fight last episode when Dean told Sam that he is more important to him than killing the demon. They’re explicitly each other’s top priorities by this last scene.

[scekrex]

I just want to preface this by saying I love your work, your stories are wonderful and I have been reading them nonstop since yesterday, thank you so much for making them

Since you are taking request, can I ask for another part of the Overlord!reader storyline, like, maybe part 2 but from reader perspective as his angel explore his new home, him slowly coaxing Adam too get use to him, to find comfort in his touch. OH, and maybe a shot of reader hidden on a balcony just watching as his sweet birdy wander about in his garden, just basking in this little piece of paradise in the depth of Hell

I fucking love Overlord!Reader x Adam, gimme more of that shit I'm addicted. Also I kinda already wrote a part 2 for Overlord!Reader, so I'll make this part 3

Bird of Hell's Paradise

I promise you that I'll be good to you if you promise that you'll try to love me too

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, tooth rotting fluff

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

The way Adam carried himself inside the walls of your mansion was surely nothing but divine, his chin was tilted upwards, his eyes were partly closed and his back was as straight as possible, making him seem even taller. His body language told you with how much pride this man was filled with. And while he appeared so prideful and untouchable, his actions spoke a different language.

In the beginning you had offered him his own room, a thing he had accepted without any hesitation but as the bond between the two of you grew, as you continued to treat his wounds with kindness even though Adam was acting like a huge dickhead - even back then you had known that most of his behavior had been an act, nothing but harsh words that he had spoken to keep you away from him, something that had changed over time. But then, slowly, he started to accept your touch.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” your voice calmed the first man down, that you noticed, his body visibly relaxed under your careful fingers as you took off one of his bandages. You eyed the healing stab wounds critically - they would scar, you had known that ever since you had taken the brunette in, those wounds would leave imperfect scars on Adam’s perfect skin and you could only imagine how much he must have hated the thought of that. “I fucking know,” the brunette mumbled barely audible as he avoided your eyes at all cost, his chin was tilted upwards as he sat on your bed, chest bare, body exposed. And you believed him, because he’d react differently if he wouldn’t know. That was something that filled you with pride - knowing that the first man trusted you enough to let you treat his wounds, saw him in a state as vulnerable as the one he was currently in. You didn’t voice your pride though, you knew Adam would just make a pissy comment about it.

You gently traced the outlines of the healing wound, careful not to hurt the first man and to your surprise he let you. He even closed his eyes for a moment and seemed to genuinely enjoy your touch against his skin, before he harshly pulled back and slapped your hand away a moment later, “Enough.” You decided it would be best for you to not respond to his sudden moodswing, you simply kept your hands to yourself as you rose from your knees and took a step back, “We won’t need to bandage your wounds anymore, darlin’, they have healed incredibly well.” Adam dared to look down on himself, spotting the still healing stabs of the dagger Niffty had rammed into his body countless of times. And while Adam tried to mask his emotions like he always did, a little bit of worry shined through his facade, “They won’t fucking disappear.” It was less of a question and more of a statement, as if he was trying to get himself used to the thought of it. “Well, we could ask-” “Fuck no. There ain’t no fucking way that any demon fuck-up shit is going to touch my damn body, this bitch is divine and it will fucking stay that way.” You simply nodded, it was his choice after all and if you were honest, you understood, If your roles were reversed you’d act the same, that was for sure.

Adam took your silence as his sign to leave the room - or maybe he took it as the sign that told him you were one touching his wounds, whatever it was, the brunette was quick to leave your bedroom and wander through the building, where he went you were never quite sure of, but you trusted him - there was literally no other place for him down here. It was either staying with you or getting killed over and over by angry sinners and while Adam definitely made some reckless decisions from time to time, he wasn’t stupid. Even if it seemed like it sometimes.

You decided for yourself that you needed some fresh air, Adam’s mood swings could weigh quite heavily on you, he didn’t intend on that, you were positive about this. You slowly stepped across your bedroom and made it over to the small balcony that was promising you the view of an amazing garden. Your garden was your treasure, it was probably the most peaceful little place in all seven rings of hell, the most beautiful area a sinner would ever see. So when your eyes watched over your garden in protection, you noticed Adam’s wings gleaming between a couple cherry trees. He had loved your little garden right from the start, once, when you had found him half asleep underneath one of the cherry trees, he had told you that your garden reminded him of Eden, that it gave him a welcome feeling that could be compared to feeling at home. You were sure he didn’t even remember telling you that little detail, he had looked at you with tiny, tired eyes that kept falling shut. But it explained why he spent so much time laying in the grass, why he loved to take a bath in a small lake that was located at the center. You adored the way Adam’s eyes would lit up whenever the two birds that were living in your garden would show their faces.

In amusement you watched as Adam rushed from his current spot to the other side of the garden, then he quickly made his way over to the strawberries. Whenever the first man was spending time in the garden he seemed so carefree to you. Like it lifted a burden from his shoulders that was usually so heavy to carry. You decided that joining him would be a fantastic idea, so you left the balcony and made your way downstairs to join the brunette.

Once you set foot in the garden, Adam was quick to notice you - it seemed as if he noticed everything that was going on there. His eyes watched you skeptically, then he walked over to you, “I still don’t fucking understand how you manage to keep all of that shit alive in a hellhole like that.” The brunette sounded genuinely impressed and that filled you with pride. “TIme and love, my dear, and a little bit of patience of course,” you hummed proudly as you wrapped an arm around his waist. In the first moment the brunette flinched, tried to pull away from your touch, but then he seemed to change his mind because suddenly he was leaning into your touch instead of trying to get it off him. “You know,” you started as you gently guided Adam back to the cherry trees, they provided some shade and given the temperature shade seemed like a good thing. “I’m glad I found you,” Adam huffed at your words as he watched you while you sat down. Your back rested against one of the trees and you patted your thigh to tell Adam he was very welcome to sit down. The brunette hesitated for a good moment, then he sat down in front of you, his back towards you. And just as you were about to complain he leaned back and his head was resting in your lap. That was definitely something that you hadn’t expected, it wasn’t that Adam strictly avoided your touch, he just never initiated body contact this soft before. “Do you give me permission to touch your hair darling?” The question was spoken quietly, you were afraid to scare him away, but a hum in agreement answered your question and blew away the doubts you had.

Your hands gently massaged his scalp, fingers comed through his thick hair as Adam relaxed his muscles and allowed himself to fully drown in the feeling of your touch - it was beyond cute. Despite pushing you away over and over again, you had always managed to get close to him again and it seemed as if Adam was slowly growing tired of pushing you away and denying himself the comfort of your touch. His eyes cracked open a little as he asked, “Does that fucking offer still stand?” You curiously tilted your head a bit as you looked down on him, “Which one?” “Y’know, sharing a room,” he mumbled and turned his head to the side in order to avoid your eyes, one of your hands came up to move his head back into its original position, forcing him to look at you, “Yeah, that offer is still on the table.” A small yet cocky grin appeared on Adam’s lips and all he said before closing his eyes again was a simple, “Good.”

You leaned down, placing a soft kiss on his forehead and the satisfied sounding hum the first man let out at that told you that he was enjoying having you close - no matter what lies his words had tried to tell you, no matter how often he had pushed you away. “Could get fucking used to that,” and his words not only tool you by surprise, no they also made you smile against his soft skin. You placed yet another kiss to his forehead before you responded with the softest voice you had to offer, “I can offer you this,” Adam felt a quick peck on his cheek, “For all of eternity, if it is what you desire.”

The brunette opened his eyes once more as your face pulled away from his, and his beautiful golden eyes met yours, the lighting made them look even more beautiful, “What if I fucking want you?”

[yullen]

D.Gray-man c249 p1~18 TL

D.Gray-man 第249後: AWに別れを告げる Night 249: Saying Farewell to A.W.

束の間の団欒僅かな幸せを頬ばりながら While stuffing one’s cheeks with a brief moment of happiness together, gathered in a circle

p19~26 

google doc | JP transcription | proofreading: @/kudouusagi ※there are likely inaccuracies, feel free to check back.

さて！  Now, then!

あの......  Allen: Um……

ずっと同じ服装だと危険だから着替えなさい It’s dangerous to keep the same attire, so please change.

逃亡もののジョーシキ!  Common sense, for fugitives！

ここの物は自由に使っていいから Feel free to use these.

Link: 私は結構てす  I'm good.

お金のニオイがする A:  I smell money

これブランド品では．．．！？ A: These are brand-name...?!

うーんちょっと大きいな   動きやすく手直しするね Johnny: Hm, a little big. I’ll adjust it for ease of movement.

いやこれブランド品．．． A: No but wait— these are brand-name...

科学班モード [ Science Department Mode ]

昨日からずっと気になってたんですが... この高級なお宅は元帥の一体どういう......? A: I’ve been wondering since yesterday, but... what is this posh place of yours, General......?

ついでに髪も切ろっか！座ってアレン J: While we’re at it, why don’t I give your hair a cut! Sit, Allen.

ああ  はい．． A: Ah, sure...

靴はこれでいいかな Wonder if these shoes will do.

ここは私のパトロンの別邸だから気にしないで This is a secondary residence of a patron’s, so don’t mind it.

え！？  Eh?!

元帥は画家としても有名なんだよ   いくつかこういう拠点を持ってる The General is also famous as a painter. He has a few of these places.

なるほど...   師匠の愛人と似たようなものか... I see... So it’s like with Master’s lovers, huh...

あの不良と一緒にしないでね Please don’t lump me in with that hoodlum.

すみませんっ！！！   [ アレン ] Pardon, my bad!!!  [ Allen ]

パトロン......   あっ Patrons......  Ah,

クロスが一番信用してた人間に聞いてみるといい Try asking the person Cross trusted most.

オレの精神世界に在る屋敷 あの場所を目指せとクロスに言われたんだろ？ The mansion in my inner world  (lit. inner psychological world) Cross told you to head to that place, didn’t he?

はいカットできあがり～！ Cut complete~!

あのッ  ここ電話機はあります？ Um, do you have a phone (I can use)?

ジリリリリン  ジリリリリン  Riririririring  Riririririring 

なんだ  おまえか  Oh hey, it’s you.

マザーーー！！  Mother———!!

「クロス元師が一番信用してた人間」かぁ．．． The person General Cross trusted most, huh…

ネアがわざわざウォーカーにメッセージしてきたのなら 何か進展がありそうですね If Nea (went out of his way) to leave Walker this message, then there (should) likely be some progress from this.

……

心配  WORRY

でもさぁ〜〜〜  それってなんか 罠っぽく思えちゃうのは感が過ぎないのかなぁ But you know~~~  It’s just that, it seems much too like a trap.

ネアと言う男はそういう小細工を嫌うタイプかと Link: Nea seems to be the type of man to dislike such cheap tricks. (this is the revised JP script, cr for JP script: @/ponkotsubluuues)

アレンの上着をつめてます Sewing Allen’s jacket (つめて is used for e.g. ‘taking in’ a shirt, but chose ‘adjust’ since it’s vaguer  chose the more liberal option for more amusing tone)

私が思うにですが   ネアという男は   ちゃうのは考え過ぎなのかなぁ～～～～ This is (just) my opinion, but a man such as Nea might say,  “I wonder if you aren’t overthinking it~~~~”

ホントぉ〜〜〜！？  Really~~~?!

どちらかといえば”手段を選んでいられない”というように思える．．． If anything, I think it’s more like he “isn’t at liberty to choose his methods”...

ネアにとってこの現状は計画通りにいっていないのかもな Perhaps things aren’t going as planned for Nea.

わざわざメッセージを寄越したんだ 罠じゃなくても屋敷へ行ってもらいたい狙いがあんだろ おそらくネアは聖戦の真実や自分のことをモヤシに知られることを怖れていない   知って欲しいんだ He went out of his way to send this message, so even if it's not a trap, he (must have a reason) he wants him to go to that mansion. Nea likely isn’t afraid of letting the beansprout know the truth of the holy war or about himself. He wants (him) to know.

キャンベル邸には根深いものがあると思ったほうがいい It’s better to think there’s something deeply rooted within the Campbell estate.

ネアからはそれ以上の情報は聞けなかったとウォーカーは言っていたが ネアが助言してきた理由を問わなかったとは思えない 本当は何か聞いたのではないのか．．．？ でなければウォーカーがネアの言葉をすんなりと信じるわけがない Walker said he didn’t any information more than that from Nea, but I don’t think he wouldn’t question Nea's motives for giving counsel. Did he really not ask/hear anything (else)...？ Otherwise, Walker wouldn’t be believing Nea’s words without any trouble.

あの時鏡の前でウォーカーは確かにうろたえていた．．． ネアに何を言われた？ ここまできて我々に伝えることをためらうようなことがまだあるのか At that time, in front of the mirror, Walker did seem perturbed... What did Nea say to him? Is there still something he’s hesitant to share with us, who’ve come this far?

元気そうじゃないか   で？用件は何だい   Don’t you seem well.   Well? Something you need?

マザーじゃなかったら他に心当たりがないのでどうか頼みます……！ If not Mother, then I have no idea who else to ask, so please......!

あ？ Huh?

カテリーナ＂イヴ＂キャンベルという人を知りませんか？ Do you know anyone named Katerina “Eve” Campbell?

…………

？  マザー？  Mother?

．．．どこでその名を？  ...Where did you hear that name?

その．．．師匠から   幻だったかもしれませんが．．．    Well, that’s... from Master.   It might’ve just been a dream/illusion, but…

え～～と．．． でいいよな？ Eerm...   This is fine, right?

あいつめ．．． 生きていたんだね That man...  He’s alive, isn’t he.

...いつかおまえにその名を尋ねられたら   ”ある人物”を紹介するようクロスから言付かってるよ ...Cross told me that if you ever asked about that name, I should introduce you to "a certain person".

！！

この役目を果たす時がきたか．．． So it’s come time for me to fulfill this role... 

今から言うことは書いて残さず頭で覚えな From now, without writing anything down, remember what I say in your head.

ウィンダーミアの街に鳩と梟を掲げた「ズーグル」という名の古書店がある そのマスターが「宿主」を待っているだろう In the town of Windermere, there is an antiquarian bookshop named "Zoogle", raising on it a dove and an owl. Its owner will be there, waiting for “the host”.

証となるティムキャンピーをみせな   それが信用を得る唯一の合図だ As evidence, show Timcanpy as proof.   That is the sole sign to earn their trust.

……！？ ティムが．．．Tim...

マザー   実は  ティムは…… Mother.   Actually, Tim is already......

そうか．．．   アタシが言えるのはこれだけだ あとはおまえが何とかするしかないよ Is that so... That’s all I have to say. You’ll have to manage the rest.

おそらくただの古書店じゃないだろうさ 宿主だと証明できなければ殺されるかもしれない   油断するんじゃないよ It’s most likely not just any antiquarian bookstore. If you can’t prove you’re the host, they might kill you.  Don’t be careless, now.

うん  やってみます     ありがとうマザー Alright, I’ll give it a try.   Thank you, Mother.

.....はっ  Haー   なにが油断するなだ......   馬鹿かアタシは......   What’s that about carelessness...   What am I, a fool…

宿主を待ってる人物ってことはネアの協力者ってことなのかな？ The one waiting for the host, I wonder if that means he’s a collaborator of Nea’s?

すっすごく危険な気がするんだけど！ That–That sounds super dangerous!

安心しろよどこへ行こうがおまえとモヤシは危険だ Relax, no matter where you go, you and the beansprout will be in danger.

うぐぅ    それはたしかに Gerk–!    Well, that’s for certain.

そのズーグルさん？？といいクロス元帥やリンク監査官... ネアに協力したい人間って意外といるのかなぁ    何なんだろうネアって That Mr. Zoogle?? General Cross, and Inspector Link... I wonder if there aren’t a surprising amount of people who are willing to collaborate with Nea. (lit. want to) What’s with this Nea?

ギル私はもう監査官ではありませんので    何度もいいますが Gill, I’m already no longer an Inspector.    I’ve said it many times, but.

あっ    また呼んじゃった？  Ah, I called you that again, did I?

おそらくズーグル古書店はキャンベル邸への案内役．．． 危険なのはキャンベル邸だ   もしかしたらネアの生家なんじゃねぇのか 奴のホームグラウンドってわけだ The Zoogle Antiquarian Bookstore might be our guide to the Campbell Manor... The danger here is the Campbell Manor. It may be the birthplace of Nea, meaning his home ground.

ネアのメモリーが最も濃密な場所...... The place thickest with Nea’s memories...

僕もそう思う   ネアの侵食が始まってからずっと呼ばれてる気がするんです I think so as well. That place has been calling to me since Nea’s encroachment.

夕焼けに照らされたコーネリアの木……   そこに佇むあの屋敷 The mansion standing... by Cornelia’s tree, lit by the glow of the sunset

ネアの精神世界で師匠は言ってました「ここがアレン・ウォーカーの消える場所」だって それってつまり... キャンベル邸でネアが復活するって意味なのかも In Nea’s inner world, Master said “This is where Allen Walker will disappear.” So, that is to say...  Campbell Manor might be where Nea will be reborn.

このままクロス・マリアンの筋書きにのって良いのですかウォーカー Is it alright to follow along with Cross Marian’s plot like this, Walker?

いいじゃねーか    どの道ネアと白黒つけなきゃならねぇんだろ Isn’t it fine? We have to settle things (deal with matters of white/black) with Nea at any rate.

どこぞの鴉もそのほうが好都合じゃねーの？ Isn’t that more convenient for some Crow?

今はウォーカーの同行者ですのでウォーカーの決断に従います Now, I am Walker’s comrade, thus I will abide by Walker's decision.

同行者だったり協力者だったり   切り替えが大変だよなぁ A comrade and a collaborator, must be so hard switching between the two, huh.

トゲ トゲ トゲ トゲ トゲ prickly x5

ウォーカーが問題ないというのですから私も全く問題ありません   ご心配なく If Walker has no issues with it, then I am also completely without issue. No worries.

......

ギッズギス creak/grate

仲悪～い   On ba~d terms

うーん Umm...

まぁ神田の反応は仕方ないか……  リンク監査官のうしろにいるルベリエ長官の思惑もわかんないままだし Well, Kanda’s reaction can’t be helped… Since we still don’t know the intentions of Director Lvellie behind Inspector Link.

はは   確かに師匠の筋書きの通りにいっちゃってる感はありますよねー Haha, It definitely does seem like things are going according to Master’s plans...

このまま先へ進んだところで  宿主「アレン」が消える末路は変わらんぞ If things continue like this, the fate of the host “Allen” disappearing won’t change.

おまえはオレに宿主にされたんじゃない 自ら進んでその身をオレに捧げたんだよ おまえは  アポクリフォスに作り変えられてる I did not make you my host. You offered/sacrificed yourself to me of your own free will. You   were remade by Aprocryphos.

…決着をつけるために教団を出てきたんですから   このまま進みます ...Since I left the Order to settle this,   I’ll keep moving forward like this.

……

宿主の証か…… 師匠が僕にティムキャンピーを託してくれたのはこの為だったのかな Proof of the host...... I wonder if Master entrusted me with Timcanpy for this purpose.

ともだちになっていいですか……? Can I become friends with him......?

師匠もティムもずっと僕に宿主の役目を果たさせるために育ててくれたのかもしれない そうだとしても  僕にとってふたりが大事な存在なのは変わらない…… Master and Tim may have been raising me for the sake of fulfilling the role of the host all along. Even so, those two being precious existences to me will not change...... 

ずっとともだちだ You were always my friend.

どこまでも一緒に行こうなティム No matter where, let’s go there together, Tim.

着いたよ We’ve arrived.

ここで別れよう Let us part ways here.

色々とありがとうございましたティエドール元節 Thank you, General Tiedoll. For many things.

なに  大変なのはこれからだウォーカーくん What’s that?  The hard part comes now, Walker-kun.

私とユーくんは一度教団に戻り隠密に一「マナ」の墓とアポクリフォスについて調べよう 手紙も電信も危険だろうからしばらくは連絡はとれないが  必ず情報をもってキミたちを追う Yuu-kun and I will return to the Order, and secretly investigate Mana’s grave and Aprocryphos. Since letters and telegraphs are too dangerous, we won’t be able to contact you for a while, but   we’ll definitely bring you the information and follow along.

p19~26

[littledemondani]

1, 24, 70 for the writing prompts and make sure to break my heart into a million pieces and then mend it back together bc i am way too soft for a sad ending kloveyoubyeeee

say no more bestie 💅🏻 (also i hope you like this skdksdj)

warnings: fem!reader, angst with a happy ending, r isn’t from hawkins, canon divergence soo no upside down or vecna, modern AU, eddie and r are both 23, uhhh i think that’s it? 0.6k

prompt list

only you

//

you're sitting on your bed, scrolling through your phone when eddie walks out of the bathroom. he's wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, and you can't help but stare, completely mesmerized by him.

eddie notices you looking at him and smirks. "like what you see?" he asks, running his hand through his damp hair.

“not even,” you tease, playfully rolling your eyes. you turn your attention back to your phone, trying not to let him get to you.

as eddie walks over to the dresser, his phone buzzes on the nightstand. he doesn't seem to notice, so you glance over and see a text message from chrissy, one of the girls he used to hook up with in the past. the text is flirty, with chrissy asking eddie to meet up now that she's single again.

you feel a pang of jealousy and anger rise in your chest. eddie had told you he wasn't going to see other girls anymore, but clearly, that wasn't the case.

"what's that?" you ask, nodding toward his phone.

eddie looks over and sees the message. "oh, it's just chrissy," he says, shrugging. "we used to mess around."

"used to?" you say, your voice rising. "what the hell is she doing texting you then?"

eddie sighs and sits down next to you. "look, it's not a big deal. we're just friends now."

"friends?" you say incredulously. "she's clearly flirting with you, and you're cool with that?"

eddie rolls his eyes. "it's not like that, okay? we're not a thing anymore. haven’t been for, like, eight months.”

"but you told me you weren't going to see other girls!" you say, your voice shaking with anger.

eddie sighs and rubs his forehead. "i know, i know. it isn’t what you think, babe. i haven’t talked to chrissy since she got a boyfriend and i started dating you. scout’s honor.”

you stare at him for a moment, trying to decide whether to believe him or not.

“do you want me to leave?” eddie asks, eyebrows raised as he looks at you.

you’re silent. entirely unsure of what to do or say. you feel stuck. on the one hand you want to take his word for it and trust that he’s telling you the truth. but on the other, you know of his past and his fuckboy ways.

eddie takes your silence as a yes, you do want him to leave, and begins packing his things together.

you watch as he throws his shirt on, then his boxers and his jeans. it suddenly hits you that he’s about to walk out the door, and you clear your throat of the lump that’s formed.

“are you really going to leave without asking me the question i know you’ve been dying to ask me?” you ask, your voice small yet full of emotion.

“and what’s that?” eddie says as he adjusts his leather jacket.

you hesitate a moment before finally saying, “what are you afraid of?”

eddie sighs softly, shifting around on his heels before flicking his brown eyes to you. “well, what are you afraid of?”

“being hurt,” you say simply, your voice breaking slightly. “of feeling like i’m having to compete against other girls for your attention. that you’ll leave me for someone else.”

“baby, no,” eddie says, sitting on the bed and taking your hands in his. “that’ll never happen. you’re it for me. i swear to you.”

his eyes hold so much sincerity and love in them, and you can’t help but tear up. all of your fears dissipate, and are replaced by feelings of relief and happiness.

“okay,” you say, sniffling as a single tear falls down your cheek. “i believe you.”

eddie smiles at you, wiping the tear away with his thumb. “i have an idea.”

“what is it?” you ask, giving him a small smile back.

“text her back and tell her to fuck off.”

[charcharbinks333]

i never existed.

thank you to @chrissbluehat for the idea!

warnings: suggestive, angst, cheating, ex!chris, use of y/n, implied!fem!reader, not proofread

enjoy 🙏

“come on,” chris whispered, leading you into his house. you knew this was more than wrong, but he had hit you up, and you couldn’t resist him. you told your boyfriend, jack, that you’d be out with a friend tonight. you weren’t entirely lying, chris was a friend. just a friend. until you were under him on his couch, his hands all over you. you missed this, sure, and jack clearly wasn’t the one for you, but neither was chris. he was always douchey, “never was one for commitment” he told you as you broke up. every time you found yourself at his house, you’d tell him you were going to break up with jack the next day. every time you told him you’d leave your boyfriend for him, but you could never bring yourself to it.

“lemmie show you a few things you could do with him…” he murmured before moving his lips down to your neck, latching onto the spot he knew would make you squirm. he was careful not to leave a mark, but used his teeth just enough to leave you begging. his hand moved from your hip to the waistband of your pants, pausing for a moment.

“you left him yet?” he asks quietly as he looks down at you, his breath slightly heaving as he got more worked up.

“technically not,” you hesitate, and chris sighs. he sits back on the couch, patting his lap.

“come here,” he urged, holding his arms out for you. you crawl into his lap without hesitation, straddling him. he rubbed his hand up and down your thigh, looking up at you admiringly. he knew deep down he couldn’t get back together with you, and this sneaking around really got him going, but he hated being the reason you cheated on your boyfriend. “your relationship is none of my business ma, but we both know cheating is wrong-”

“oh, like you’re so morally upstanding?” you cut him off, a puzzled expression painted on your face. “you’re the one who keeps hitting me up, knowing i probably haven’t dumped him yet…” you lean closer, peppering kisses along his neck. he leans his head back, allowing you better access. you chuckle to yourself, the vibrations against his neck making him shiver slightly. “you know i’d leave him for you in a heartbeat.” he froze as you said that. he knew you were lying—you wouldn’t leave someone like that. not only that, he knew you two wouldn’t work out. 

“you can sleep here tonight, mostly because i’m not gonna make you drive this late, but nothing else is happening, alright?” he informed as he lifted you off his lap, moving to stand in front of you.

you had to admit it to yourself—all you wanted was him. you couldn’t bring yourself to break jack’s heart like that, but you wanted chris, and he clearly wanted you, even if it wasn’t a real relationship.

“nah, it’s… it’s fine, i’ll go home.”

“yeah, fine. just keep telling him i never existed or whatever.”

~~~

you stare at the ceiling, wishing chris would text you. you texted jack and admitted everything to him, hating the burden of having that on your chest. he broke up with you, obviously, you didn’t expect anything else. the guilt would, unfortunately, be with you forever. even if you and chris had a happy ending, neither of you were good for each other, there would never be full trust between you two. maybe you could work it out, but like he said, he wasn’t one for commitment. you just had to remember that.

chris sat on his bed, wishing you were beside him. he knew he had fucked up too many times, and also knew deep down that you probably hadn’t broken up with jack yet. he covered his eyes, clawing at his own skin, wishing this was all just a horrible dream. he couldn’t believe he was so terrible to you, when you two were together and when you weren’t. he had treated you like some side bitch when really you were the only one for him. he knew that, but he couldn’t find the strength to just admit that.

~~~

it had been two weeks, not a single text from chris. jack had come over to get his things, and thankfully he wasn’t as mad as you expected. he knew the hold chris had on you. 

“it was only 3 months, y/n, it’s not like we were 2 years deep in a relationship or something. i hope you work this out, and we can still be friends if you’d like.” man, you had really fucked up. jack was a great guy, and you lost him just to lose chris too. 

another sleepless night for you, what felt like a hundred at this point. you tossed and turned until 1 am, when you got a text.

~~~

“please, chris, i can’t do this anymore,” you sigh, exasperated. it was yet another night he showed up at your door, in the rain, staring up at you without saying a word. his lips were on yours before he even responded, gently leading you back into your own house, shutting the door behind himself. you pull away, looking up at him now.

“i missed you, ma…” he murmured, trailing his kisses down your neck. you push him away, not wanting to deal with him tonight.

“christopher, you’ve been ghosting me for nearly three weeks, did i not give you exactly what you wanted? i cheated on jack for you, i lost probably the best boyfriend i’ve ever had all for you, but we both know you’re just gonna leave the second you get the chance.” you padded further into your home, leaning against the counter, trying to gain some understanding of chris’ mindset.

“i know, i know, just… hear me out,” he pleaded, standing beside you, his hand firmly planted on the granite beside you. you sigh quietly, not raising your gaze to meet his. “i’ve been thinking, a lot, about you… i want something real with yo-”

“then why did you immediately kiss me when you saw me instead of, i don’t know, saying something?” you immediately interject. he sighed and ran his hand down his face, trying to find a way to prove himself. 

“ma, please, i mean it, i’ll get on my knees and beg if i have to, go out in the rain and scream it to the world… i want you, i want to make things right,” he pleaded. you couldn’t help but wonder what had suddenly changed, what switch was flipped in his mind. 

chris took your silence to heart, knowing he probably fucked up too many times. he huffed and grabbed your hand, pulling you outside. he moved out from under the awning on your porch and stood in the pouring rain, staring up at you from his place two stairs below you. “i have been regretting every moment i haven’t been with you, y/n. you were the best part of my life, and i was so stupid, i couldn’t see that you were the only reason i opened my phone in the morning, frankly one of the few reasons i had to keep going at all. every time i wake up im reaching for you, but you’re not there, and i couldn’t bring myself to text you after i practically made you dump who could’ve been the man you married, but honestly y/n, i’m the man for you, not hi-”

you clearly had a bad habit of cutting chris off. you rushed down the two steps and cupped his cheeks, pressing your lips against his in one swift movement. his hands immediately found your hips, holding you close. neither of you cared that you were standing in the middle of the rain, everything melted away at that point. it was just you and him, nothing else in the world mattered. 

you slowly pulled away, your eyes fluttering open to look up at chris. his eyes were still closed and mouth slightly agape, fully in shock.

“that’s probably the best kiss i’ve ever had…” he murmured, finally opening his eyes to meet yours.

“do you wanna come back inside?”

[kitty-kei]

Fiery Familiarity - Part 3

hey guys!! sorry it took longer than i expected to get this part out, i’ve been busy at work lol. also i realized i forgot literally like 3 paragraphs at the end of part 2 ;; they’re there now and they’re not crazy important but it’s something lol. enjoy part 3!!

words: ~1.9k

prologue | part 1 | part 2 | part 4

You resorted to carrying Toph, having her bend through the ground to tunnel closer to the camp. You stumbled out and fell to the ground, holding her defensively to shield her from more harm. “Katara, we need some help over here!”

“Toph, Y/n! What happened?” Katara cried, crouching at Toph’s side.

“My feet got burned!”

“Oh no, what happened?”

Toph’s sass started to come back, “I just told you, my feet got burned.”

Katara glared, “I meant how.”

Toph hesitated, “Well… We kind of went to see Zuko last night.”

“You WHAT?!” Aang yelled.

“Zuko?!” Katara cried incredulously.

Sokka let out a noise before Toph continued, “I thought he could be helpful to us.” Katara began to heal her feet. “And if I talked to him, maybe we could work something out.”

“So he attacked you?” Sokka asked.

“Well, he did, and he didn’t. It was sort of an accident.”

Aang had to ask, “But he did firebend at you?”

Toph sighed, reluctantly responding, “yes.”

Sokka started again, “See? You trusted Zuko, and you got burned. Literally!”

You needed to say something. “It wasn’t all his fault, Sokka! He was asleep and thought we were someone coming to ambush him. He tried to apologize, but she’d already been hurt.”

“It’s gonna take a while for your feet to get better,” she paused her healing, putting her water away. “I wish I could have worked on them sooner.”

“Yeah, me too,” Toph grumbled.

“Zuko’s clearly too dangerous to be left alone. We’re gonna have to go after him.”

You stopped listening as Aang and Sokka spoke, choosing to help support Toph and carry her to the fountain for some rest. But of course, you couldn’t get a moment's rest, as an explosion sounded moments later.

You all panicked, grabbing Toph protectively.

“Stop!” You all turned as you heard Zuko’s voice. “I don't want you hunting the Avatar anymore! The mission is off. I'm ordering you to stop.” Zuko tried to block Combustion Man, only to get shoved aside as he let off another explosion even closer to you.

You watched in vain as Zuko tried to stop him. When Combustion Man turned, you felt like everything went in slow motion. Your heart stopped as the explosion pushed Zuko off the ledge, you couldn’t help the scream you let out.

“Zuko!”

Sokka forced you down behind the fountain, only letting you back up once the explosion passed. You almost cried in relief when you saw Zuko had managed to catch himself on the roots hanging between the rocks.

As Aang and Katara used their bending to shield the group, you helped Sokka carry Toph behind the pillars as fast as possible.

“He's going to blast this whole place right off the cliff side!”

Katara tries to peek out, only for another explosion to set off, “I can't step out to waterbend at him without being blown up and I can't get a good enough angle on him from down here.”

You see Sokka’s eyes light up, “I know how to get an angle on him!” He grabs his boomerang, watching before aiming and winding up. “Alright buddy, don't fail me now!”

The boomerang whips into the distance and you hear Sokka cheer as it hits Combustion Man in the forehead. He tries to set off an explosion, but it backfires, and he only succeeds in blowing himself up along with a whole pillar of the air temple. You watch with bated breath, only releasing it when you see Zuko climbing up the root and onto stable ground.

You wait with the others as Zuko makes his way to you.

Aang looks up, “I can’t believe I’m saying this but… Thanks, Zuko.”

Sokka poses as he speaks up, “hey, what about me? I did the boomerang thing.”

“Listen, I know I didn't explain myself very well yesterday, I've been through a lot in the last few years, and it's been hard. But I'm realizing that I had to go through all those things to learn the truth. I thought I had lost my honor, and that somehow my father could return it to me.” He paused, looking down before continuing. “But I know now that no one can give you your honor. It's something you earn for yourself, by choosing to do what's right. All I want to do now is play my part in ending this war, and I know my destiny is to help you restore balance to the world.”

Aang’s face softened with those words, and you could feel hope rising in your chest at the sight.

Zuko turns to Toph, “I'm sorry for what I did to you.” He gave her a bow, “It was an accident. Fire can be dangerous and wild, so as a firebender, I need to be more careful and control my bending, so I don't hurt people unintentionally.”

You could tell that hit Aang in the heart, the memories of his first attempt rushing to the surface as his eyes widened and he looked down in quiet contemplation. He looked up, “I think you are supposed to be my firebending teacher. When I first tried to learn firebending, I burned Katara, and after that, I never wanted to firebend again. But now I know you understand how easy it is to hurt the people you love.” Aang bows to Zuko, “I'd like you to teach me.”

Zuko smiles, bowing back. “Thank you. I'm so happy you've accepted me into your group.”

“Not so fast. I still have to ask my friends if it's okay with them.” Aang turns to Toph, “Toph, you're the one that Zuko burned. What do you think?”

She grins, pounding her fist to get palm jokingly, “Go ahead and let him join. It'll give me plenty of time to get back at him for burning my feet.”

Aang smiles and looks at you, “Y/n?”

You hesitate, looking into Zuko’s eyes as you speak. “I know that there is good in his heart. He deserves a chance to show it. He’s the best shot you have at learning firebending.”

Aang nods, looking to the left, “Sokka?”

Sokka shrugs, “Hey, all I want is to defeat the Fire Lord. If you think this is the way to do it, then, I'm all for it.”

Aang nods once more, looking at the final person. “Katara?”

You watch sweat roll down Zuko’s face, a look of pure hope and fear in his eyes. She glares as she speaks, “I'll go along with whatever you think is right.”

Tension bleeds from Zuko’s shoulders as he steps forward. “I won't let you down! I promise!”

You carry Toph as the group bleeds out of the area, watching as Sokka tells Zuko to grab his things.

You hear Sokka calling to Zuko, something about lunch, after he shows him to his new room. As he slips out of the room, you watch Sokka turn to Aang and say, “Okay, this is really, really weird.”

You slot yourself behind a pillar, watching silently as Zuko pulls a photo out of his bag. You stay quiet for a moment as you watch his thumb rub against it. You see Katara lean against the doorway, his head whipping up as he feels her eyes on him. He stands as she begins to speak.

“You might have everyone else here buying your... transformation, but you and I both know you've struggled with doing the right thing in the past.” You watch as she walks toward him, standing inches from his face as she sneers, “So let me tell you something, right now. You make one step backward, one slip-up, give me one reason to think you might hurt Aang, and you won't have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I'll make sure your destiny ends... right then and there. Permanently.”

You watch as hurt blooms on his face, his eyes wide and sad as he watches her leave. You hide behind the pillar as she slams the door. You wait until her footsteps and mumbled curses subside before you approach the door.

You knock on the door softly, “...Zuko?”

You hear shuffling before the door opens, a disheartened look on his face.

“Have you come to give me a piece of your mind, too?”

Your eyes softened before you shook your head. “Can I come in?”

He watched you with an indiscernible look before he stepped to the side and opened the door, giving you more than enough room to step inside. You slid in, taking a deep breath before you spoke up, “I’m sorry for Katara’s… outburst. I’m sure you can understand it comes from a place of love for her friends, but her protective nature comes out more threatening than it needs to.”

He looks down, “No, she has every right to be angry. After the things I’ve done, what my nation put them through… I don’t blame her for being mad at me.”

You nodded sadly, trying to find something else to take his attention off of the past. Your eyes lit up as you looked down at the bed, “Is that your uncle Iroh?”

His eyes snapped to meet yours, “I… Yes, it is.”

You picked it up gently, studying the painting. “Tell me about him.”

You could feel Zuko’s eyes studying you, but when you turned to meet his eyes, they were focused on the photo. “He is… the closest thing to a real father that I’ve ever known. He stood by me, no matter how childish, stubborn, or foolish I was. He cared for me in a way that my father never could. He is crazy and wise and tea obsessed, but I wouldn’t have made it this far without him. He loved and supported me, and I still couldn’t see it. I just wish I could go back and make things right.”

You studied his face as he spoke, awed at how beautifully he’d grown into himself. The sharp cut of his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose, the way his hair fell perfectly, long enough but somehow not in his eyes. And his eyes, Spirits, his eyes shined like gold, even in the muted sun. He looked ethereal. You could still see the youth in his face, just the slightest bit of softness left in his cheeks even with how active he was. You could see how the years had worn him down, his face full of worry lines even at 16. Even his scar, the skin now healed and rough, his left eye permanently squinted just so. He was perfect.

You realized he stopped speaking, looking at you with a sadness in his eyes you couldn’t bare. You traced the edge of Iroh’s portrait softly as you whispered, “You really love him, don’t you?”

Zuko inhaled sharply, his eyes widening as he searched your face. He smiled almost imperceptibly, “I guess I do.”

You held your breath, wanting so badly to hug him, reassure him that Iroh would forgive him, that everything would be okay… but you didn’t know him that well, not anymore. So you settled for a reassuring hand on his shoulder as you handed the portrait back. “The next time you see him, tell him. I’m sure he feels the same.”

You paused for a moment before slipping your hand away, beginning to trail towards the door. His raspy voice made you pause.

“What was your name again?”

You stopped in your tracks, inhaling sharply before casting a glance over your shoulder. “Y/n.”

You walked out before you could see his reaction.

taglist:

@mochminnie

[sfwregressionfanfictions]

Dean Winchester X Little! Reader: LD PT2

WC: 1882

Summary: An online dating app leads to a long-distance relationship.

A/N: Why does wifi suck? Also why does college give you no personal space to write??????

Part 1. Part 2

Dean was attached to his phone and computer like a high schooler. He adored having a little one he was getting to know. He recently sent a package containing a paci, a onesie, a tiara, and a few other trinkets and toys. The little one really needed to be more cautious about giving out their address as they did with him. 

Cases had currently been at a standstill. So Dean was allowed to stay at home all day and talk to the age regressor he had come to care for. He learned so much in such a short time about the little artist, they told him about their family, how they work as a little bakery, and how they were scared of the closing shift. He felt bad about lying or not telling the full truth to them, but it was for their safety. 

But how badly he wanted to tell them and let them know and trust him. He wanted to fully commit to the little and be their caregiver. He wanted nothin more than that. He missed taking care of someone so small and in need of protection, now that Sam was grown, he didn’t have that.

A ding from his phone interrupted his pining. It was a text from the little one.

Y/N: Good morning! I’m in charge of the bakery today! So I have to bake, wish you could try it :((

Dean: Good morning, Sweetheart. That’s so exciting! I wish I could try it too, what are you baking today?

Y/N: Gonna make macaroons, cookies, pies, and cakes. Gotta make so much, but it’s okay. Cause it will be fun. 

Dean: That sounds like so much fun, bet they are gonna be so yummy! Maybe one day you could teach me how to bake?

Y/N: YES YESYESYES!!! Does that mean you are gonna come see me? 

A pause just for a moment, hesitation filled the air.

Y/N: Or I could visit you? You wouldn’t even have to travel.

Dean: Maybe, how about we talk about it after you finish working?

Y/N: Okay, talk to you at 6?

Dean: Talk to you then, have a good day baby

(Y/N) tried to continue their day like they weren’t nervous, however, they were unable to keep the act up long. Their hands shook with nerves, he was probably gonna say no most likely. 

Although they were doing something they love, time seems to barely move. The hours were dragging and it was hard to focus due to the nerves. They tried their best to focus as to prevent any mistakes, they wanted the owner of the small bakery to like them. The owner was an older woman, who was like a grandmother to everyone in the store. 

Soon the clock struck 5, it was time for them to clean up and go home. They would clean up the mess they made while cooking, and clock out at 5:30. Then walk home and hopefully be home by 6. The path wasn’t long, they just usually go distracted by random stuff on their walk home, at one point they had sat on a bench on the walk home to gawk at a rather hairy man, as they believed he may be a werewolf. 

Y/N: Heading home now! Talk to you soon. 

Dean smiled at his phone as he cooked bacon to go on top of the burger he was making. He had a day full of contemplation and planning and recontemplation. Should he stay or should he go?

Dean: Good, now be safe on your way home. 

The walk home was short, with very few distractions. How could they be distracted at a time like this? They were in a hurry. They arrived back at their beat-up small apartment quickly, only stopping to unlock the door and grab the large box on their doorstep. Usually having a box at their doorstep would bring them extreme excitement, however now they had to call Dean.

Ringggg… Ringggg… Ring….

Dean was quick to answer, nearly ripping his pocket off his jacket. It was playing the special tone that he set for (Y/N), as he didn’t want to answer the phone all grumpy like he did the first time they called. Meaning they got home and wanted to talk to him.

“Hey Buba,” Dean answered, making weird wobbles in his voice. He knew he did a good job when a giggle floated through the phone.

“Hi.” It was shorter than their usual enthusiastic greeting, which cause some concern to bubble in Dean’s stomach. “I got a big box at my door, it was hard to carry.”

“Wish I could have helped you with that, why don’t you open it where the arrow is pointing? Maybe there is a surprise in there for you.” Dean smiled at the thought of them still in their work clothes, about to be small and bouncing.

“Arrow?” There was a pause, “You sent me this?”

“I did.” Dean answered, knowing he was about to have to reassure big (Y/N) that it wasn’t a big deal, “ before you start saying anything about this, it was nothing. I wanted to get you a gift, don’t try being all ‘oh you shouldn’t have.’. I did it, and I will do it again.”

“I-” They paused, “Thank you, I’ll get my box cutter and open it.”

He smiled as he heard them beginning to rustle to find the box cutter. They seemed excited or nervous to see what was in the box.

“Gonna be careful right?” Dean asked once they made a sound that he would consider success. 

“Ye, no touching the pointy parts.” They respond obviously absorbed in the thought of a gift, that they were aware was most likely for little (Y/N).

“I wish I could see your face when you open the gifts.” He smiled, as he hears the light slicing of tape, and them struggling with the box to open the edge that wasn’t cut completely. “You gonna read the note first?”

“Ye,” They spoke, beginning the note with a loud and proud voice, but slowly going quieter and mumbling as they began regressing. They were always shy about how hard reading could be when they were small. 

“Open the gifts now baby.” Dean prompts, as they finished the card. The sound of the newspaper being removed from the box was louder than he thought it would be. 

“You got me a paci?” They sounded choked up as they stared at the design. The design was Siren-like, and it had the words “little monster” on the handle.

“Yeah, do you like it? Should be a few other things in there too…” Dean asked hopefully.

“Yeah, didn’t need to do all this…” (Y/N) mumbled over the phone.

“But I wanted to, how about you try on the gifts and we can maybe have a talk?” He wanted to talk about the possibility of him visiting them. 

The atmosphere in (Y/N)’s apartment deflated quickly at the mention of the dreaded conversation was brought up. They had believed for a moment that everything was perfect between the pair. However, he was preparing them for his big no.

“Oh yeah, umm we can talk, yeah.” Their voice was less childlike and more anxious.

“Baby, it is okay, this talk isn’t gonna be bad.” Dean replied quickly, trying to calm the obviously stressing little.

“Okay, can we talk about it now?” They said, just wanting it to be over.

“Of course baby,” Dean says as he opens his computer that he was looking at routes on, “what does your schedule look like for the next few weeks?” 

“Mmm Nothing only working,” They replied, picking their thumbs.

“Okay, how would you feel if I left tomorrow and got to see you in about 2 days?” Dean asked.

“Wait.” They paused almost processing what was being said. “What?”

“Obviously it could be sooner or later depending on traffic, would it be okay if I slept at your place? It would be like a little sleepover.” Dean continued knowing they would register what he was saying soon enough.

“YES YES YES YES!!!” They screamed, only to stop, “Sorry, didn’t mean to yell. Thought you were gonna say no. 

With that conversation completed, (Y/N) was quick to regress and babble about all the stuff they would do together. Dean was packing as they spoke as he would have an early morning. It was all simple and little (Y/N) even started cleaning, it wasn’t much just putting some of their toys away. They stayed on the phone until (Y/N) fell asleep.

The next morning came quickly, Dean was already on the road by the time the sun was up. It was unheard of for him to be awake even a few hours after the sun is up, but today was different. He wasn’t being the safest going quite a bit over the speed limit, but he just couldn’t help it. He would text sweetheart at stops, when he filled up for gas, took a bathroom break, or was getting snacks/souvenirs from each state he went through. Both days were like this although the second contained more bouncing in his seat and fewer stops.

(Y/N) spent the two days working and stress cleaning. They swept and mopped their floors three times, and dusted them twelve times. While at work they asked for the first day Dean would be there off and the owner hearing how excited they were, gave them a week of paid time off. The owner stated something about only being young once and young love, (Y/N) was too excited to correct her. They were only friends, for now at least. 

The day had come when Dean would arrive, he called saying he’d arrive around 1 pm. That means they woke up at 5 am to clean everything twelve times again, and run to the store to get actual food and ingredients, so as to not force Dean to eat fast food and microwave meals.

With their grocery bags on the counter, half of the food was already put away when there was a knock at the door. I wasn’t even 12 pm, the first thing that passed their mind was that there was no way that it was Dean already. But their feet moved on their own, and the door swung open before they though to check who it was. There a man stood, he was tall with slightly spiked hair, he had a ‘Joey’ from friend’s smile. 

“Sweetheart?” Their voice died in their throat, eyes began to water slightly as they stared at the man that was acting as their platonic caregiver and honestly best friend. Rather than speaking, (Y/N) threw themself into his chest sobbing out of join. 

“Dean… “ was all that managed to excape them, as they clung to him. He clung back seeing the person he came to life made him cry in joy. If anyone asked he would say it was simply allergies.

They sat in the hall and hugged for longer than any two friends should. Neighbors stopped to stare as they walked passed, but Dean and (Y/N) only saw each other. 

[brightwanderer]

A phoenixflare idea I may or may not explore in fic at some point: Joshua falls first.

By, oh, give or take 20 years or so.

It’s hero-worship when they meet as children. Joshua is painfully aware that Clive is the one the Phoenix should have chosen, while he’s a frail pile of embers terrified he can’t live up to expectations. Dion, meanwhile, is the strong, brave, perfect heir, who bears Bahamut’s strength so easily, so chivalrous and noble. Everything Clive should have had, everything Joshua wishes he could be - and yet beneath it all, the compelling hint of a loneliness and uncertainty Joshua knows well.

Then, Phoenix Gate. Joshua loses everything. He spends his adolescence being raised in secret and shuffled around by a cult that worships him as something close to a god. Even his closest companion cannot treat him as an equal. I’m sure he’s lonely, and as he learns more of Ultima, I’m sure he longs for someone else to share the burden.

Imagine Joshua drinking in every story he hears of Dion the Bold. Maybe he daydreams about the handsome prince sweeping in to take him away from this stressful, secretive life. Maybe he imagines them joining forces to save the world. Maybe as he gets older, other thoughts creep in, fuelled by everything he hears about how handsome Prince Dion is as an adult.

(Maybe he hears rumours that the prince does not care for women, and maybe it makes his heart flutter with ridiculous hope.)

(Maybe he also has some fairly intense thoughts about what a man with a body like Dion’s could do to him in, on, or anywhere near a bed, but let’s keep this relatively PG.)

Imagine Joshua nursing this crush for years, for more than a decade. Clinging to it like a long-lost keepsake, finding it changes with him as he grows: from something innocent to something heated to something complicated and deep.

Because when he’s old enough and strong enough to travel on his own, of course his ears still prick up at every mention of Dion’s name. The battles he’s fought for the Empire. The orders he’s been given, sometimes less than honourable. The Empire’s growing greed, first glimpsed in the treachery at Phoenix Gate, now writ large in its annexation of Rosaria - then later in the invasion of the Crystalline Dominion. The people all say Dion is a good man, a thoughtful leader, a true prince. Is he uneasy with the change in his country and his father? Does he see the shadows lengthening too? Or is he complicit, no longer the shining idol of Joshua’s youth?

And Joshua is smart enough to doubt his own motives. He wants to approach Dion as a potential ally, but can he trust his own judgement? Does he really believe, in objective terms, that Dion will help him - or is he still in love with the stories he told himself all those years?

(And can he bear it, if it turns out Dion isn’t who Joshua wants him to be?)

So he hesitates. He waits. He waits until events make it clear that the Emperor intends to pass over Dion in favour of Olivier. Joshua knows then that whatever else, Dion is not a part of his father’s scheming. Approaching him is a risk worth taking now, as long as Joshua can put aside his childish daydreams and unrequited longing, meet the man as he truly is, see past the fantasy.

No wonder he’s tight as a wire when he steps into that tent. No wonder he keeps his hands gripped out of sight behind his back. No wonder he moves like every step, every breath, every word, is one he considered beforehand. No wonder he buys himself a few seconds picking up the fallen flower, restoring it, keeping his eyes off Dion as he fights his pounding heart.

And no wonder Joshua blames himself, after the fall of Drake’s Tail, that he didn’t go to Dion sooner.

[mgnifiqueyoo]

— "love at first spark."

requested by: anon pairing: zb1 matthew x fem!reader song recommendation: dear no one (tori kelly) lowercase is intended… — a/n: y'aaaaall, i really wanted to start writing a zb1 oneshot but i actually didn't know where to start but thanks to the person who requested this, here's my first ever seok matthew oneshot! i hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! ^^ (btw, i am also thinking of making a masterlist for all my uploaded projects very soon!)

[ total words: 1.9k ]

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“ricky, i’m fine. you don’t have to call me every hour. tell mom and dad that i’m doing just great, okay?”

it was the second week since you moved into your new dorm. flying across the country is not really what you expected at all this year. you already had your plans; just trying out an online entrance exam to a university abroad and then, not expecting anything from it. you could say that it was all “just for fun” until you received an e-mail.

and that letter basically told you that you had to move out. 

“look, i don’t trust you on your own and i’m just looking out for you,” your brother said back in defense, probably already making up an excuse for this call to even take place. “... i’m gonna miss you a lot, y/n.”

“me too.” you paused for a bit as you remembered how fun it was to be back home. with each day that passes, things are changing and you just couldn’t believe that this was the actual start of something new. out of the country and pursuing something so difficult– law. “... m’kay, i’ll text you later after i review. love you, ricky.”

“... love you, too.”

ending the call yourself, you chuckled at the way he sounded so hesitant to say those words back. ricky would refuse to admit it but there was always that soft side in him that comes out every time something completely life-changing takes place; the type of thing that doesn't really have a clear answer in the end.

to him, this was one of those things.

by the time you got back to your plans, you were already so eager to start cleaning out your desk to spend the rest of your hours with your nose stuck in a book– and, oh, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"huh?" you stood up straight after bending down the table, your palms still looking for that bright, vibrant blueish aqua highlighter you'd always use for notes. "... just a second!"

nonetheless, you made your way to the door even though you had no idea who else could've been behind it. and once you opened it, you were met with a guy who held a mysterious box; he had dirty blond hair and a nice set of teeth that seemed to have been covered once he saw you.

but why?

"sorry, who are you?" "here's your order… ma'am?"

he didn't even sound sure when he said that last word as you took the box in your own hands, your brows furrowed. god, you were just so confused. you didn't even buy anything!

"... there's no way you're jonathan whales, right?"

that's when things got clearer for you as the tensed muscles on your face slowly loosened up… but at what cost? this guy in front of you obviously just got ditched by some horrible customer. 

"well," your smile widens but it only made him feel a lot more unsettled, especially with those dead eyes of yours staring back at him, "i'm not a johnathan apparently."

the boy in front of you bit his bottom lip, frowning as he squinted his eyes in anxiousness and a whole lot of uncertainty. he scratches the back of his neck, confused yet curious eyes looking around your dorm room from the outside as he later lets out a defeated sigh.

"... have i been scammed?"

your shoulders slowly rose up as a grimace was plastered on your face, your head nodding hesitantly in response. the blond had every right to roll his eyes, letting out a deep breath as you quickly assumed that he didn't like the way you reacted.

but in your defense, you were just starting your weekend with a supposed two-hour long review session. you didn't expect an unpaid package and a scammed seller to come by your doorstep!

"hold on… let me check my account." he raised his pointer finger up for a bit, pulling out the phone from his hoodie's pocket. not once did he smile at the view of whatever it was on his screen. "... oh, no."

"not a good news, isn't it?" "yeah… i just got robbed."

you widen your eyes, baffled at this ridiculous situation happening right in front of you. ‘i can’t just leave him here, can’t i?’ you thought to yourself, also letting out the same deep breath he did. — well, all those things you wanted to do? they’re gonna be done tomorrow because you feel the need to help this guy.

looking down at the package you held, you noticed how neatly it was prepared and you knew that this guy wanted to impress his customer. “... what’s your name?”

“matthew... matthew seok.” he then stared at the bulletin board behind your desk, raising both of his eyebrows in what seemed like fascination. “and i think we go to the same university, miss l/n? i’m really sorry- i need to take this back.”

as he reached for the package, you frowned, pulling it away from him. for some unknown reason, you didn’t want to return to him. 

“no,” you argued shortly, causing him to tilt his head, making him even more confused than before, “i’ll pay for it.”

the blond lets out a chuckle that is obviously having a lot of feelings mixed. you couldn’t help but mentally curse yourself for refusing to return the parcel to him. “you don’t have to do that-”

“this is mine now. i’ll pay for it.” your arm covered the lid of the box in baby blue shades, your brows furrowing further as matthew seemed to not get the memo yet. was it because it’s his first time meeting someone as persistent as this? or was it because he just didn’t know what to do? anyway, you cared less enough to answer those questions.

and instead, paid attention to this weird, sudden desire of this random parcel that you didn’t even purchase. “listen, i know you want to help me but i don’t want you spending your money on this.” matthew’s growing concern didn’t fade away at all as his hands reached for the box once more, resulting in you flinching as you held it in your arms tightly. — this is the weirdest you’ve ever been.

‘why am i so obsessed with this?’ you asked yourself silently in a form of an uncertain gulp and a puzzled, blank stare at the seller, who still stood by your doorstep. “what’s inside of it?”

“... well, you don’t need to know-” “is it drugs?” “what? no!”

but no matter how many times the guy tried to stop you, your hands started tearing the tapes around the box’s lid and body. — this is the most chaotic you’ve ever been. “ma’am, calm down!” he grabbed your wrists to catch your attention and it did… in the most unusual way.

in fact, it was so unusual that your gripping hands let go of the box, letting the package fall on the floor, a loud thud and a few cracks were heard. looking down, you soon realized that it was a record player. 

'oh, what a shame,' you thought, deep into your regrets. it was like there was this rope pulling you towards it even though you didn't know what this "johnathan whales" guy bought.

and apparently, it was really pretty, sky blue record player.

“i… i told you i’d pay for it,” you blurted out, unsure of the consequences as matthew kept his head down, taking a few deep breaths. audible and full of shame. you were sure that you just made the situation worse. “i’m sorry.”

as his hands let go of your wrists, you swore that something stinging was left on your skin. no, it wasn’t an insect or the itchy feeling of your sweatshirt. it wasn’t even the wind that entered your room from the windows… it was something else.

and there were sparks of it.

in pink and are all over your arms, glowing before they faded away like nothing; like it was some smoke.

“did you just… see that?” matthew did not wait for a second to let it pass, staring right into your soul with no plans of looking somewhere else. “you saw that, right? am i just hallucinating or-”

“no, i saw it too.” you couldn’t look away from him, founding comfort in the fact that he also saw (and felt) the same thing. not to mention, it didn’t look like it was just a faint glimpse– it was like fireworks in the afternoon skies, especially the ones before the clock strikes five o’clock. 

the boy then took a step back, realizing that he still held your arms as the time-stopping ambiance slowly left the room; but it lingered as if hours had gone by. “... what do you think was it?” he rocked himself back and forth in an almost unnoticeable way, little by little. you could see the genuine curiosity in his eyes but you were left with no answer.

i mean, how does someone know the reason behind that? seeing magenta sparks? it’s already so delusional just by listening to those words. “i’m not sure about that… do you want to talk about it?” you had no idea that you opened a new path for him as he kept his head tilted, jaw slightly left hanging as he smiled with his pretty teeth. 

“are you kidding? of course! i mean, you’d never see anything like that everyday!” he joked, making you let out a chuckle that was still very much lost in the moment. 

finding yourself staring at him, you woke yourself up in the middle of it, standing by the side of the doorframe to let him walk in as he giggled, oddly settled after all that disaster earlier as you began to slowly see the bright side in it, too.

“can you give me a moment to fix this mess?" you asked, which made him nod almost immediately, later walking his way in. you expected him to sit on the solo couch to make himself at least feel at home but he only stood, looking around with his bright eyes. 

and again, it made you smile for no reason. “so, you study law, huh? that’s pretty hard, isn’t it?” his eyes were glued to the textbooks that were piled on your desk as you chuckled, shrugging right after. 

“well, it’s something that i really wanted to do,” you said back, slightly biting the tip of your tongue as you remembered the mess you’ve made off of his product. “matthew, i’m so sorry for what happened. i’ll pay for it, i promise-”

“hey, i just told you that you don’t have to! we’ll just… i don’t know? tell this to the police? maybe they could do something.” he interrupted you, still pushing his priorities over your suggestion. and even though you didn’t like that, he sure did have a point. none of this was your fault. if only the scammer was a genuine customer, this wouldn’t have taken place.

but something tells you that this was meant to happen. you’re just not sure why.

once you returned to the ruined box with the badly damaged record player, his glare followed every move you made. maybe even syncing with the rhythm of your breathing. “... would you let me help you with that?” he offered as you turned to look back at him, exerting extra effort, considering that you’re crouched to the ground with broken pieces in both of your hands. 

“that’d be great.” you laughed as he did so too before continuing to sit down next to you, willing to share the work with you at least. 

when silence was starting to take over, the blond paused for a while as he couldn’t help but stare at you and it intrigued him. was it the way you were so determined in helping him? was it because of how odd the situation was? he never had a clue. “i think it’s not just my money that was stolen.” 

you faced him in response, raising an eyebrow with eyes shining in interest. “what else was stolen, then?” you let out another laugh once more, noticing the way you felt drawn to him more and more. for a bit, he seemed like he didn’t want to say those next few words but of course, he wouldn’t let such a perfect chance pass.

“... i think you just stole my heart.”

[patronsaintofteachercrushes]

1/28

i was sort of hesitant to post this because i know how it sounds, but it’s not really like that. nothing is going to happen between us.

i recorded a conversation between me and H on the 19th, it’s a long one, about 30 or so minutes. i was listening to it yesterday and i noticed something that i didn’t hear in the 100 times i’d already listened to it. he called me a naughty girl.

i don’t know if i should be disgusted and appalled and tell a trusted adult about this, or if i should be insatiably horny. because i feel like a sick mixture of both. because 1 why did he say that, shouldn’t he have known how that would affect me ? and 2 oh my gosh he called me a naughty girl !!! it feels almost too good to be true, which is where i think my aversion to this is coming from; i finally got what i wanted. he finally faltered. but i’m not sure if i believe it to be honest. it seems too perfect. how could this have just fallen into my lap this way ? i mean, yes, i’d been praying for this like a pious freak but things like this don’t ever happen to me. frankly, i’m not sure i deserve it.

the conversation goes as follows:

me: what kind of poetry did you write in college ? i’ve been wondering about that since you told me.

H: did i tell you that i wrote poetry ?

me: yes. i asked you if you wrote-

H: *begins to explain but i’m talking over him*

me: -poetry in college and that you were really good.

H: what ? i never said that.

me: yes you did.

H: i fucking never said that.

me: yes you did.

H: *unintelligible*… naughty girl.

me: nuh uh.

but when this conversation happened, i wasn’t thinking. i wasn’t listening as well as i should’ve been. i was just replying, just talking. nothing he said felt crazy or out of pocket when it was actually happening. i didn’t even notice he’d said that to me until last night, a week after it had happened. him saying that doesn’t really make sense in the context, but i don’t know what else he could’ve said. he very audibly says “girl”, but i just don’t know. would he really risk teacher-student boundaries that way ? because all this shows me is that maybe i haven’t been imagining things and that we do have something.

the following monday and tuesday he was very cold with me, he practically ignored me completely both of those days. which would make sense, him pulling away because he let me in too close and forgot who i was. which would also lineup with how he acts any time we have a good moment, he’s constantly pushing me away just to reel me back in. whenever he slips up, he ignores me.

really, really unsure how to feel right now. this complicates things horribly.